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Warship Wednesday 10 June 2026: Tough Trolle

Here at LSOZI, we take a break every Wednesday to explore the old steam/diesel navies from 1833 to 1954, profiling a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places.- Christopher Eger. 

If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”

Warship Wednesday 10 June 2026: One Tough Trolle

Via the National Library of Norway

Above we see the class-leading Danish kystforsvarsskibet Herluf Trolle some 120 years ago this month at the coronation of Prince Carl of Denmark and his wife as King Haakon VII and Queen Maud of Norway on 22 June 1906 in Trondheim, Norway.

A ship of peace, Herluf Trolle had a long, quiet career, save for some tense wartime service, but is nonetheless a fascinating subject.

The Trolles

In the 1890s, Denmark was in need of a new, modern navy with steel hulls, steam propulsion, torpedoes, and breechloading weapons.

The country’s prototype “bathtub battleship,” Skjold (Shield), was ordered in 1893. A 2,200-ton ship, she was stubby at 227 feet overall and drew 14 feet under her steel hull.

Danish armored coastal defense ship Skjold

Using a three-stroke engine with water-tube boilers, which were quick to fire, and with her single 9.4″/40 main gun’s rotation and ammunition supply handled by electric motors (which, for the time, was revolutionary), Skjold was modern and capable of 13 knots when summoned. Further, with up to 11 inches of armor, she could take a beating.

The Danes then moved forward with a three-pack of improved coastal battleships with the lessons learned from Skjold, with emphasis on more guns and better speed, coupled with the ability to remain in the shallows.

What resulted was the Trolle class, which was nearly half again as heavy as Skjold (3,750 tons), not to mention over 50 feet longer (283 feet oal), yet could still float and fight in 16 feet of water.

Herluf Trolle circa 1908 via Kalundborg Maritim formidling

They were designed to carry two main guns very similar to those of the larger (328-foot, 7,000-ton) Chilean battleship Capitan Prat, which was built in France at FCM in 1889-91.

Chilean battleship Capitan Prat, Engineering Magazine, Jan 4, 1895, gun diagram

While Prat had four 9.4″/35 Canet guns, Trolle would carry two improved 9.4″/38 L/40 Canets dubbed M/96 models in Danish service. These had a better rate of fire (1.3 rounds per minute) than the guns mounted on Skjold (one round every two minutes) and, of course, there were two of them. Plus, the Canets were good out to 11,500m while Skold’s gun had a maximum range of 9,800 even with its slightly longer barrel.

Officers posed in front of one of Trolle’s 9.4″/35 Canet guns.

Boxing practise on the deck of Herluf Trolle THM 4494

Her secondary battery was four 5.9-inch Bofors PK L/43 M/96s mounted on a gun deck protected by a central casemate. A tertiary battery was intended for defense against boats, including ten 57mm/40 M.1885s and eight 37mm/20 M.1885 Hotchkiss guns. To help spot those incoming TBs, she carried two 30-inch and two 35-inch electric searchlights.

Finally, a torpedo battery of one bow and two abeam below the waterline 18-inch tubes was installed in three different compartments.

This scheme of Trolle from circa 1917, when she had replaced most of her 57mm 6-pounders with heavier 3″/52 L/55 KM.07s, gives you a good understanding of her arrangement. Note the forward torpedo tube as well as the beam/keel-mounted tube.

Also like Prat, Trolle would use an armor belt and scheme of Creusot steel, just not as much (the Prat had a nearly 12-inch belt). The Dane’s scheme included a 2-inch deck, a belt that was 7 inches amidships tapering to four at the stern, 6 inches over the casemates, and 7 solid inches in the barbettes, bulkheads, and main gun houses. The conning tower ran 7.5 inches.

When it came to propulsion, Trolle was designed with two Burmeister & Wain vertical triple expansion engines and six Thornycroft boilers arranged in a central room turning twin shafts. At 4,200 shp, she was good for 15.5 knots and carried enough coal (245 tons) to cruise 2,400nm at 9 knots, not long enough legs for cross-ocean service, but she was designed to fight in and around the North and Baltic Seas, just over the horizon from home.

Jane’s 1904:

The three ships of the class were all incrementally different and upgraded from one another.

Danish Herluf Trolle-class coastal defence ship Olfert Fischer on trials

Among the changes were that Trolle’s immediate sister, Olfert Fischer, had Krupp cemented nickel steel armor of the same scheme rather than Creusot plate, had slightly better Bofors M/03 model 9.4″/42s and Bofors M/01 5.9″/42s. This was a big deal as the Bofors 9.4s had a better rate of fire (1.8 rounds per minute versus 1.3 on Trolle’s Canet guns) and a longer range (13,700m vs 11,500m). Fischer was also fitted out as an admiral’s flagship, with extra cabins.

Peder Skram entering the port of Aarhus at the South Pier circa 1919 by Arge Andersen

Meanwhile, the third member of the class, Peder Skram, carried better engines of 5,400 shp, which were needed as she went some 200 tons heavier on a slightly longer and wider hull. Like Olfert Fischer, she had Krupp armor of the same (general) scheme and, again, even a better mark of Bofors M/06 9.4″/43 and Bofors M/06 5.9″/50s, while carrying 10 3-inch guns from the start instead of the 57mm 6-pounders.

Jane’s 1921 entry for the class, showing the differences between the three half-sisters.

Which sets the stage for us to…

Meet Herluf

Our little battlewagon carried the name of one of the Danish Navy’s biggest heroes, the 16th-century Admiral Herluf Trolle. He bested a larger Swedish fleet under Jakob Bagge at Öland in 1564, wrecking the massive 173-gun Swedish flagship Mars and capturing Bagge. He took on a second Swedish fleet at Bukow in 1565 and, gravely wounded, returned home to his wife and school only to pass away there 17 days later at age 49.

Together with his wife Birgitte Gøye, he transformed the Skovkloster monastery into the Herlufsholm school, which is still in operation.

Our subject was laid down at Orlogsværftet, København, the yard which built the entire class, on 20 June 1897.

Sketch of Herluf Trolle under construction, c. 1898, by Paul Pedersen

HDMS Herluf Trolle on a slipway before her launch on 1 September 1899. Note her ram bow with her forward 18-inch torpedo tube under the “beak.”

HDMS Herluf Trolle on a slipway before her launch on 1 September 1899.

Launched 1 September 1899, Herluf Trolle entered the fleet on 7 June 1901, some 125 years ago this week, and was on her trials through 20 July.

Danish coast defense ship Herluf Trolle on trials in 1901

Herluf Trolle, 1902

Looking at the launching and completion dates of her sisters, it would seem they followed on the same graving dock, with Olfert Fischer joining Trolle in May 1905 and Peder Skram in September 1908. The fact that each subsequent ship was laid down after trials of her previous sister makes the numerous small changes from ship to ship logical.

A great postcard of Herluf Trolle showing her original profile with two tall masts and an assortment of Royal Danish Navy rate badges below, including gunners, torpedomen, medical, musicians, machinists, electricians, and boatswains. THM 7889.

The most powerful Danish warship when commissioned, Herluf Trolle was a showboat at the time and undertook two long, independent summer cruises (14 June 14- 4 October 1902 and 2 June- 30 September 1904), waving the flag in the Baltic and Western Europe.

Danish coast defense ship Herluf Trolle, early in career, with buff superstructure. THM 3587

The former included attending the fleet review at Spithead on the occasion of King Edward VII’s Coronation.

The June 1902 Spithead review included 160 warships from around the world, including Herluf Trolle.

A 1905 refit, after her sister Olfert Fischer arrived in the fleet, saw Herluf Trolle bolster her armament with six 47mm/40 M.1885 3-pounders.

As noted in the opening of the post, the summer of 1906 saw her in the Royal Division in Norway for the coronation of one of Denmark’s princes as the Scandinavian country’s new king.

Danish coast defense ship Herluf Trolle during the coronation of the Norwegian king Haakon VII, 22 June 1906, National Library of Norway

Danish coast defense ship Herluf Trolle during the coronation of the Norwegian king Haakon VII, 22 June 1906, National Library of Norway

Danish coast defense ship Herluf Trolle during the coronation of the Norwegian king Haakon VII, 22 June 1906, National Library of Norway

The next seven years saw Trolle alternate her summers with a series of exercises and maneuvers with the fleet’s main squadron (1.Eskadren), then settle into a winter nap period.

Around 1909, Trolle and her sisters switched to a more 20th-century battle gray (kampgra) scheme.

Danish coastal battleships Herluf Trolle and Olfert Fischer, 1909, Squadron service, dressed in flags and firing salutes. THM 36515

A subsequent 1910 refit saw her land her troublesome new 3-pounders in exchange for a couple more 57mm 6-pounders.

Herluf Trolle in the Kaiser Wilhelm Kanal, June 1911. THM 6625

Danish coastal defence ship calling in Scotland on the Tyne in June 1914, photo by Bob Short

War!

On 1 August 1914, with Germany, France, and Russia joining the Balkan sideshow that had been brewing against Austro-Hungary and Serbia/Montenegro, Denmark moved to a robust war footing, the concept of a strong neutrality appealing to the government.

The Navy participated in this Security Force (Sikringsstyrken) with the traditional single fleet squadron splitting into two, with the 1st Squadron guarding Øresund and the 2nd Squadron in the Great Belt. The squadrons were made up of the Trolles along with Denmark’s handful of light cruisers and assorted torpedo boat flotillas. 

Great War service: Torpedo boat Tumleren, coast defense ship Herluf Trolle, by Benjamin Olsen, painting in the Danish Naval Museum Gallery

Dismantling enemy mine during the Great War on Herluf Trolle THM 7352

Herluf Trolle in battle gray (kampgra) with her masts folded and decks clear for war in a Christmas 1914 postcard.

The Danish Navy in 1914 had two Donnet-Lévêque FBA Type A seaplanes in service, dubbed Maagen 1 & 2, as well as five aviators. Here is one seen off the stern of Herluf Trolle. Note the rifle-armed sentry under the barrel of her aft 9.4-inch gun. The Danes later built a domestic seaplane factory, Luftmarinestation København, and constructed a dozen seaTHM 7353

Trolle and her sisters were building blocks and flagships in the Sikringsstyrken for the next half decade, Denmark only demobilizing on 28 February 1919.

Back to peace

Following the war and the inevitable peacetime budget cuts by increasingly liberal Danish governments, Herluf Trolle was relegated to reserve status in 1922, while her sister Olfert Fischer was used as a training ship, even carrying an HM-1 seaplane (Danish-built Hansa-Brandenberg W.29) for a period.

Trolle was retained as a pier-side training ship for officer candidates until paid off in 1930, then later sold for scrap.

Her place in the fleet had been taken by the new artillery training cruiser Niels Juel, which had entered service in 1923.

Holmen, 1932, with the Niels Juel to the left, royal yacht Dannebrog top left, the famed Mastekranen crane center with Herluf Trolle, Olfert Fischer, and Peder Skram at the bottom center

Fischer ended her career as a target ship for naval aviation, clad in extra coats of wood planks over her decks, and able to steam at 9 knots with a skeleton crew. A purported 389 practice bombs would rain down on her decks. Eventually, she was decommissioned in 1936 and discarded.

The final member of the class, Peder Skram, was used in the 1930s as an accommodation ship for the Apprentice School and in various other training tasks until WWII brought her back to the good graces. Rather than be surrendered to the Germans, she was scuttled by her crew at Holmen in August 1943, salvaged by the Kriegsmarine and commissioned as the gunboat Addler, then was sunk a second time in Friedrichsort by Allied aircraft, raised, and then later scrapped by 1949.

Danish warships after the fleet’s sinking at Holmen in connection with the state of emergency on 29 August 1943. From the right is seen the artillery ship Peder Skram, torpedo boat Vb. 2, and the motor torpedo boat Hvalrossen (only the masts are visible). In the background is the frigate Fyn. FHM-166686

Lived on in Coastal Artillery

Continuing to serve, Herluf Trolle’s main guns were sent to form a battery protecting the naval station at Holmen, while her four 5.9-inch guns were sent to Kongelundsfortet, on the southern end of the Copenhagen Fortress.

Danish coastal artillery Kongelundsfortet THM 319541

Emplaced in 1939, the Germans came along in 1940 and moved the 150s to the Sjællands Odde (Gniben reef) to control the submarine barrier in the Kattegat in 1943. Utilized by the Germans during the War and returned to the Danes immediately after, the guns were scrapped in the 1950s, although Artilleriskolen Sjællands Odde endures as a training ground for roughly 200 naval gunners per year. Meanwhile, Kongelundsfortet is preserved as a park and nature trail. 

At least some of Trolle’s guns, likely drawn from her myriad of small 75mm, 57mm, 47mm, or 37mm counter-boat/AAA batteries, are in the extensive collection of the Royal Armory of the Danish War Museum (Krigsmuseet) in Copenhagen, albeit not on display.

Epilogue

Our subject these days is best remembered in period paintings and postcards.

Herluf Trolle at Copenhagen by Christian Benjamin Olsen, 1902

Copenhagen circa 1907 with the Danish Herluf Trolle, Russian imperial yacht Polar Star, and Frigate Jutland/Jylland, Christian Benjamin Olsen

Postcard for Danish coastal battleship Herluf Trolle THM-30778

Storm in Drogden Sound by Christian Mølsted, 1919, with Herluf Trolle in the distance

A beloved naval hero, Herluf Trolle’s name endures.

At least one large naval barracks in Denmark carries the name.

One of the companies of the detested German-raised Schalburg Corps (Schalburgkorpset) of Danish SS volunteers was named after Herluf Trolle and had the cuff band to show for it.

The Royal Danish Navy recycled the name for a circa 1967 Peder Skram-class frigate (F 353) that served 20 years on active duty and a few more in the reserve before she was scrapped in 1995.

Danish Peder Skram-class frigate Herluf Trolle (F 353) visiting Kiel, West Germany, 20 June 1970. Photo by Georg Gasch, Stadtarchiv Kiel.

Thanks for reading!

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

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Britannia Squeeks

The Royal Navy has spent the past 14 weeks gearing up a mine countermeasures response to send to the Persian Gulf region.

That mission will be the 16,000-ton civilian-manned Bay-class auxiliary RFA Lyme Bay (L3007), loaded up with lots of sorta ad-hoc bits and pieces, including the Video Ray Defender-Viper system, “four specialist mine-hunting vessels, three RHIBS, more than 20 containers packed full of tech,” and a skosh of good wishes.

20 May 2026 – HMS Stirling Castle is using their crane to load kit and equipment onto RFA Lyme Bay. RFA Lyme Bay receives a kit while in Gibraltar ahead of deployment to the Gulf. HMS Stirling Castle has transported and delivered kit, including drones and sea boats. The Bay-Class auxiliary ship is in Gibraltar, undergoing maintenance and loading vital kit for further operations.

A closer look at Video Ray

It really didn’t use to be this way.

Just 30 years ago, the circa 1996 RN, a victor of the Cold War, had five brand new 465-ton Sandown class Single Role Minehunters on hand with up to 20 planned as well as 13 aging (built in the late-1970s-mid-1980s) but still very useful 725-ton Hunt class minehunters.

There was also a backup.

At the time, four 700-ton River class sweepers, constructed in the mid-1980s, were being re-rated to patrol boats for the Northern Island Squadron. Eight additional Rivers were in reserve at Plymouth, with an eye towards disposal, even though they were not even a decade old. Speaking of reserve, 10 old Ton-class sweepers (including the experimental GRP-hulled HMS Wilton, M1116) were still “on the books” pending disposal and being used for training and Sea Cadet units, along with other roles.

No matter how you dice it, that’s more than a dozen very modern active boats, another dozen on the schedule, and a dozen more in reserve.

Ships of the British Royal Navy’s Third Mine Countermeasures Squadron briefly meet the aircraft carrier HMS Illustrious (left). The Faslane-based mine hunters HMS Invernes, Bridgeport, and Sandown (right), were accompanied by their support ship Royal Fleet Forward Repair Ship, Diligence (center front), and the survey ship HMS Herald (center rear). 13 March 1998, USN Photo by Jonathan Guzman, PH1.

Since then, of the 15 Sandowns eventually completed (down from the planned 20), all save for HMS Bangor have been passed on to overseas allies, and Bangor was only given a last-minute reprieve to keep her around for five years.

Similarly, while seven of the now very old 13 Hunts are still on the RN’s list, just four (Ledbury, Cattistock, Brocklesby, and Hurworth) of those are manned and in service; the others are either laid up or transferred aboard.

The Tons and Rivers are long gone, save for Wilton, which is a floating museum.

The British Hunt class minesweeper HMS Cattistock (M31) celebrated her 40th birthday in 2022 and is scheduled to remain in service until age 50.

Poor Jackie Fisher.

Warship Wednesday 20 May 2026: Long Night of the Wolf

Here at LSOZI, we take a break every Wednesday to explore the old steam/diesel navies from 1833 to 1954, profiling a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places.- Christopher Eger 

If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”

Warship Wednesday 20 May 2026: Long Night of the Wolf

Naval History and Heritage Command NH 85868

Above we see the modified Spica (Alcyone)-class torpedo boat Lupo at sea during maneuvers likely at the “H” naval review off Naples on 5 May 1938. Note her “LU” hull identifier, 3.9″/47 OTO M1937 forward, and four 17.7-inch torpedo tubes aft.

Lupo had a short career– as did most of her assorted three dozen sisters– but she was exceptionally well-fought (or lucky, depending on the outlook) some 85 years ago this week.

The Spicas

The Italian navy was huge, and I mean huge, fans of torpedo boats.

Going back to the 80-foot Thornycroft-built Nibbio and Yarrow-built Avvoltoio in 1881, they had already built and discarded more than 60 Aldebaran and Euterpe class boats before the Great War began.

In the early 1920s, the fleet had almost 100 newer torpedo boats on hand (Condore, Pellicano, Gabbiano, four Sirio class, 18 Perseo class, four Oriones, 38 1PN-class, 39 40PN-class) that went 200~ tons, were good for 25-27 knots, and carried a few 350mm or 450mm tubes with a couple of light guns.

Italian torpedo boat 54 AS during World War I. She was one of 39 40PN-class boats built during the war. At 150 tons, they ran 139 feet oal, could make 27 knots, and carried two 76mm guns, two 450 TT, and had space for 10 mines.

That’s not even counting the 422 small 20-30 ton mosquito boats of the MAS (Motoscafo Armato Silurante) type that were ordered during the Great War, of which 244 were completed.

As we said, the Italians really liked torpedo boats. I mean, if you look at the Italian coastline and consider the short ranges involved in fighting in the Adriatic and chokepoints such as the Strait of Messina and Strait of Bonifacio, it makes perfect sense.

Fast forward to the late-1920s/early 1930s and, with Italy’s 100 Great War vintage large torpedo boats slow, poorly armed, and aging, the Italian admiralty moved to replace them with a new class of faster (34 knots) boats that were much better armed (three 3.9-inch guns, four Vickers 40mm AAA guns, four 450mm tubes, as many as 28 mines).

To allow the weight and space for needed engines (two sets of Tosi geared steam turbines and two Yarrow boilers generating 19,000hp, good for 37 knots) and extra armament, this new class of TBs would come in just under 600 tons (on paper) to take full advantage of the London Naval Conference of the 1930s minimum tonnage threshold for regulated warships.

This left a fairly large 269-foot hull with a layout similar to a downsized Italian Freccia class destroyer (1,200 tons, 315 feet oal, 44,000hp). When compared to other navies, these ships would be more akin to destroyer escorts or frigates, only faster and without the ocean-crossing range, the latter a feature that the Italians didn’t need.

The Italian Freccia-class light (1,200 ton) destroyer Saetta, probably at the 5 May 1938 fleet review off Naples. The Spicas could be seen as essentially just downsized Freccias at 45 feet shorter and half the weight.

Main gun armament was three OTO 100/47 Mod. 1931 guns in single mounts, backed up by a AAA battery of eight 13.2 mm machine guns in four twin Breda Mod. 31 mounts.

Torpedo armament was four 17.7-inch tubes arranged either in a twin turnstile with a single tube on each side of the bow, as in class-leader Spica, or in four single tubes, two on each side of the bow, as in the Vega and her flight.

17.7-inch torpedo tube mount on an Italian torpedo-boat, summer 1941

450 mm (17.7 inch) torpedo being launched by the Italian Spica class torpedo boat Pallade during an exercise, 1936

See below from Jane’s 1938 edition:

Jane’s 1938 entry. Disregard the mention of 37mm guns. Only Spica and Astore had two twin 40/39 Vickers-Ternis. None had 37s. The typical pre-war AAA mounting was M.31 Breda mounts with twin 13.2mm guns. These were later replaced by twin Breda 20/65 Mod. 1935 and then by four single Scotti-Isotta-Fraschini 20/70 Mod. 1939 mounts.

They also had weight and space reserved for two depth charge throwers, although they had no listening gear, at least pre-war.

When it came to mines, they could both mechanically sweep (with embarked cables and paravanes) and lay mines (able to carry up to 28) if needed.

Lupo’s stern showing her paravane stowed with a good look at her two aft 3.9″/47 OTO mounts.

A good stern view of Lupo showing her beam-mounted tubes, aft 3.9s, and “peppermint” aerial recognition pattern over her bow

Named for constellations, the first two of the class, Spica and the Astore, both built in the Bacini & Scali Napoletani (BSN) yard between 1933-35, were sold to Sweden in 1940 and commissioned as the destroyers (jagaren) Romulus and Remus, respectively, serving that Scandinavian Navy until 1958.

HSwMS Romulus (Jagare Nr 27) Swedish Marinmuseum  D 14939:179

Plan of HSwMS Romulus (Jagare Nr 27) in her 1950s layout, sans torpedo tubes and with sonars and M/48 Bofors 40mm guns fitted. Swedish Marinmuseum

The next 30 were built in three flights (16 “Alcyone” type, 6 “Climene” type, and 8 “Perseus” type) with very minor variations in armament. Besides BSN, which built four more vessels, CT Riva Trigoso built two (Canopo and Cassiopea), CNR Ancona built four, Ansaldo Genoa built 12, and CNQ Fiume 6, all entering service by November 1938.

The brand new Italian Spica-class torpedo boat Calipso setting sail from Naples. She was sunk on 5 December 1940, by mines from submarine mine-layer HMS Rorqual east of Tripoli

Launch of Italian Spica-class torpedo boat Altair in 1936. She was sunk on 20 October 1941 in the Saronic Gulf, also by mines laid by HMS Rorqual

They proved prolific in pre-war images of the Regia Marina at play.

Several Italian Spica-class torpedo boats photographed in 1938. The Circe (1938-1942) appears in the left foreground. NH 85999

Italian Trento-class heavy cruiser and Spica-class torpedo boats in the late 1930s, probably photographed at the 5 May 1938 naval review off Naples, Italy. NH 86334

Italy Torpedo Boats. CG=Cigno, SI=Sirio, VG=Virgo, SG=Sagittario, PS=Perseo, AD=Andromeda (classe di Climene). Spica – Partenope class, circa 1938. New York Times Files. NH 111510

Several Italian Spica-class torpedo boats, probably photographed at the 5 May 1938 naval review off Naples. NH 111485

Meet Lupo

Lupo was one of a dozen of the Spicas built by CNQ (Cantieri navali del Quarnaro S.A.) in Fiume in spitting distance of the old Whitehead torpedo factory with her direct sisters Libra (LB), Lince (LC), and Lira (LR), all having the same armament and arrangement.

Late model boats, they suffered a bit from mission creep and had grown to 785 tons standard, 1,035 full load, on a hull some six feet longer than the original Spica design but with the same engineering plant. This dropped the maximum speed down to just over 30 knots, a big difference from the blistering 37 that Spica got in light load on trials.

Italian torpedo boat Libra (Fiume-built Alcione type Spica class). Circa 1939. Note her two stern 3.9″/47s, twin paravanes, beam-mounted torpedo tubes, and Breda 13.2mm AAA guns on bandstands amidships. NH 111428

To be sure, by this stage, they were more DE than TB.

Jane’s 1938 entry putting Lupo and the rest of the “L” boats built by CNQ as part of the 16 Alcyone/Alcione type vessels listed as Partenope type.

Laid down 7 December 1936, Lupo launched 7 November 1937, and commissioned 20 February 1938, under the command of LCDR (capitano di corvetta) Pio Valdambrini, based in Sicily.

Lupo at launch, when she carried an “LP” pennant. This was soon changed to “LU.”

War!

By the time Italy entered WWII on the side of the Axis during the Fall of France, Lupo and sisters Lince, Libra, and Lira, were part of the VIII Torpedo Squadron (Squadriglia torpediniere) based at Torpediniere Rhodes in the Aegean Naval Command.

Beginning the war under the command of LCDR Gennaro Cioppa, by December 1940, Lupo’s skipper was 37-year-old LCDR Francesco Maria Mimbelli. A Livorno-born regular from a Dalmatian family who put on his cadet uniform at age 15, by 1923, he was serving as a junior officer on the gunboats Caboto and Carlotto on China Station. Part of the Italian delegation sent to the London Naval Conference, he later served on the cruiser Trento and commanded torpedo boats during the 1939 invasion of Albania.

Lupo drew her first blood at 18:00 on 31 January 1941 when, taking part in a patrol of the Caso Channel in the Dodecanese with sister Lince, spotted part of British Convoy AN.14 and went in to attack. Headed from Alexandria to Piraeus, the small (Aegean Northward) convoy element had two merchantmen escorted by the light cruiser HMS Calcutta and two corvettes.

With Lince pulling away Calcutta with a torpedo attack that failed, Lupo went after the largest merchie, the big Shell tanker Desmoulea (8,120 GRT), and hit her with two fish (the British say one), badly damaging the vessel. Abandoned by her crew in a sinking condition, the tanker was later towed the next day to Suda Bay with her cargo intact.

Notably, along with torpedo damage inflicted on the cargo ship Clan Cumming (7,264 GRT) of Convoy AS.10 on 19 January by the Adua-class submarine Neghelli (NG), Lupo’s hit(s) on Desmoulea were the only Italian naval successes against British convoys in the Aegean.

Lupo and her sisters were soon pressed into service shuttling troops around the Greek littoral.

On 25 February, she and Lince, along with the old destroyers Crispi and Quintino Sella, carried a reinforcement force of 240 soldiers and 88 marines to the embattled islet of Castelrosso (Kastellorizo​) in the Levantine Sea, which was being assaulted by British 50ME Commandos in the rather slapstick Operation Abstention. This led to a swirling night action between the two TBs and the British destroyers HMS Hereward and Decoy, with no casualties on either side. Finally able to land their troops on the 27th, Lupo and Lince also turned their 3.9-inch guns on said Commandos (reportedly causing three deaths and seven wounded), which withdrew the next day.

This brings us to the…

Night of the Wolf

As part of the epic German airborne assault on Crete, while Kurt Student’s Fallschirmjäger made their last ride-of-the-Valkyries level jump to glory in Operation Merkur, a two-pronged seaborne assault was attempted by the mountain troops of Julius Ringel’s 5. Gebirgs-Division.

One of these convoys of mountain troops was made up of 21 overloaded requisitioned Greek caiques, coasters, and barges, carrying 2,331 men, which left Piraeus on 19 May, bound for Maleme on the Allied-held Greek island at a lumbering seven knots. A second, larger, flotilla of 42 vessels would carry 4,000 mountain troops to Heraklion.

Both convoys were surveilled by RAF reconnaissance aircraft and duly reported.

The smaller Gebirgsjäger convoy was escorted at first by the Spica-class torpedo boat Sirio, but had to be replaced as she lost her starboard propeller. Her intended replacement, the old de-rated destroyer Curtatone, was sunk by mines on 20 May.

This left Lupo to answer the call alone.

Assigned to the defenseless convoy of wallowing caiques, she arrived on scene on the 21st of May and by that night made contact with British RADM Irvine Glennie’s Force D north of Canea, still 18 miles from their intended landing beaches at Maleme.

First involved was the destroyer HMS Janus, which Lupo fired two torps at from 1,000m at 2233.

Then came another vessel looming out of the night, the cruiser HMS Dido, which got a third and fourth torp fired at her from 700m at 2235.

Then came a second cruiser, HMS Orion, which she avoided ramming by just a few feet.

A third, the legendary HMS Ajax of Graf Spee fame, was on scene, as were the destroyers Hereward, Hasty, and Kimberley.

There was no way one Italian torpedo boat could compete with that kinda pressure, especially when the Brits had radar on their side. Just counting the cruisers, Lupo had three 3.9-inch guns against the British cruiser’s 10 5.25-inch and 16 6-inch guns. Then add the 20 4.7-inch guns on the four British greyhounds.

Lupo broke contact, and the Brits were able to sink 10 caiques in the night, sending over 300 German troops to the bottom of the Med, decimating the III Battalion of the 100th Gebirgsjäger regiment. Two caiques, altogether loaded with 113 Germans, made it to shore on Crete at Cape Spatha. The other caiques were able to slip away in the confusion and made it back to Piraeus.

Lupo during the Battle of Crete convoy action

The second, larger, convoy was recalled to prevent a similar fate.

The only damage done to the RN was via friendly fire, with Orion suffering 11 casualties due to 40mm (2-pounder) hits (which Lupo didn’t carry). The Brits also fired a tremendous amount of ammunition in the clash, with the cruisers firing some two-thirds of their magazines (Orion had 38 percent of her shells left, Ajax 42 percent, and Dido just 30 percent). Further, Ajax rammed and sank a troop-carrying barge, damaging her bow in the process, her stem fractured and bent over waterline level, and her forepeak flooded.

Lupo had been hit at least 18 times by 6-inch and 4.7-inch shells from British destroyers and cruisers, although most of the AP rounds passed cleanly through her without exploding. She suffered two dead, quartermaster Orazio Indelicato and gunner Nicolò Moccole, and 26 wounded. This against a complement of 116 officers and men. She nonetheless returned to the scene of the convoy massacre at dawn on the 22nd to pick up survivors, with Lupo, seaplanes, and rescue launches picking up 242 waterlogged Gebs by 1600 that afternoon.

The 5th Gebirgs-Division reported 506 missing in the Crete campaign, with most having drowned with the caiques, delivered to Posiedon by Force D.

German assault on Crete – May 1941 via USMA collection

Most of the Gebs involved in Operation Merkur that arrived on Crete did so as fly-in reinforcement, with 5,000 brought by Junkers 52s.

As for Lupo, she sailed back into Taranto looking like Swiss cheese.

The clash saw Mimbelli awarded the Gold Medal of Military Valour, while Lupo had the Silver Medal placed on her ensign.

Continued campaigning

Repaired and refitted, Lupo picked up a more ASW-oriented battery to include landing her 13.2mm guns for four twin Breda 20/65 Mod. 1935s, and taking on hydrophones and as many as 40 depth charges, with many of her sisters so converted.

Italian Libra (Fiume-built Alcione type Spica class), late in the war with camouflage. Note her depth charge racks instead of torpedoes and twin Breda 20/65 Mod. 1935 on port beam. Aldo Fraccaroli collection.

Thus rearmed, the Spicas became a fixture on Italian convoys in the Med, supplying outposts in occupied Greece and running troops to North Africa.

Italian Spica class torpedo boat Lupo, May 1941

Italian Spica class torpedo boats Libra, Lupo, and Lira in Mytilene, 4 May 1941

Italian torpedo boat Lupo and hospital ship Gradisca Tobruk, Libya, on 28 May 1941

While escorting a convoy of four steamers with the torpedo boats Altair and Monzambano and the auxiliary cruiser Barletta on the evening of 19 October 1941, Altair struck a mine laid eleven days earlier by the British submarine Rorqual in the Gulf of Athens, and her sister Lupo came to her aid. Taking 124 men aboard from Altair, Lupo tried to tow the vessel, whose bow had been blown off, but had to cut ties and let the stricken TB sink.

On 23/24 November 1941, Lupo and sistership Cassiopea, while escorting two German steamers, Maritza and Procida, to Benghazi with supplies for Rommel, bumped into British Force K, which had been birddogged to the convoy by deciphered Ultra messages. This pitted the two Italian TBs against the light cruisers HMS Aurora and Penelope and the destroyers HMS Lance and Lively. The resulting night action in the rain left the two German steamers sunk, but the Italians survived to fight again. Lupo is generally credited with hitting Penelope’s superstructure with her 3.9s, causing minor damage, and in turn, picking up some minor damage herself.

Lupo was with another convoy, from Piraeus to escort to Suda, again with sister Cassiopea, escorting three merchies when they escaped an attack from HM Submarine Porpoise on 17 January 1942.

In March 1942, the now-famous Mimbelli was sent to command the IV MAS Flotilla operating in the Black Sea, leaving Lupo in the hands of her third wartime skipper, LCDR Giuseppe Folli.

Committed to a series of Piraeus to Tobruk convoy runs, it was on one of these sorties on 2 September 1942 that Lupo’s convoy came under the combined attack of USAAF B-24s and HM Submarine Thrasher.

On her next run to Tobruk, with sister Sirio and three small freighters, Lupo survived an attack from HM Submarine Taku.

The extremely lucky Lupo’s run ended on the evening of 2 December 1942 when, along with the TBs Ardito, Aretusa, and Sagittario, she was escorting three steamers from Naples to Tripoli. After dodging Albacore bombers of NAS 828 out of Malta, which struck the steamer Veloce, the convoy again found its old nemesis, Force K, this time composed of the radar-equipped destroyers HMS Jervis, Nubian, Kelvin, and Javelin.

Lupo, at the time attempting to tow Veloce and bathed in the light of 40-inch searchlights, was smothered in 4.7-inch shells at 2,000 yards, and sank in the Gulf of Gabès at 2345.

Lupo carried LCDR Folli and 134 other souls to the bottom of the sea. Just 29 survivors were picked up by Ardito.

The shattered wreck of the ship, missing her bow and stern, was found approximately 96 miles SW of Lampedusa and 20 miles off the Kerkennah Islands in December 2011 by AHTS Buccaneer, some 435 feet down. It has been extensively surveyed.

Epilogue

The Italians recycled the name “Lupo” for Battaglione Lupo, a marine infantry unit within the infamous Xª Flottiglia MAS in 1944. It fought with Mussolini’s rump Italian Social Republic in Northern Italy against Allied forces and partisans until the end of the war.

Lupo Battalion Italian Marines of X MAS division, La Spezia, Italy, 1944. Note the “samurai” mag carriers and MAB 38 Beretta SMGs.

The modern Italian Navy commissioned a frigate (F 564) using the Lupo name in 1977, which served until 2003. She is still in service with Peru as BAP Palacios (FM-56).

Italian frigate Lupo (F564)

Of Lupo’s 30 Spica-class sisters in Italian service, 23 were lost during the war. Seven survivors returned to Italian service, modernized as fast corvettes outfitted with radar, sonar, and Hedgehog ASW devices. The last two, Sagittario and Libra, were only retired in 1964.

As for Lupo’s only victim during the war, the Greenock-built Shell D-class tanker Desmoulea was patched up, survived a second torpedoing in May from an Italian S.79 bomber, was patched up again, survived German He. 111s, and continued sailing until 1961. A tough-to-kill tanker for sure!

The Shell tanker, Desmoulea, Fremantle, 1948. Fremantle History Collection LH004488

Lupo’s most famous skipper, LCDR Mimbelli, earned two Iron Crosses (EK1 and EK2) for the Sevastopol campaign and picked up two companion Silver Medals and five Bronze to his Gold for leading several actions with his speedy MAS boats along the Calabrian and Sicilian coasts. Post-war, he commanded the battleship Vittorio Veneto and the cruiser Garibaldi before heading the Naval Academy in Livorno.

The Italian fleet’s CNO from September 1959 to April 1961, Ammiraglio di Squadra Francesco Maria Mimbelli, moved to the retired list in 1964 and passed in 1978, having spent 57 of his 72 years in uniform.

As noted by the Marina Militare, “The mission report of the Royal Torpedo Boat Lupo, written by Commander Mimbelli in a dry and elegant style, is kept by the Historical Office of the Navy in Rome, for current and future generations.”

In 1993, an Ammiragli-class destroyer, ITS Mimbelli (D 561), was commissioned with his name and remains in service.

The destroyer Francesco Mimbelli in Valletta, Malta, 17 May 2005. Wiki Commons by Anthony Vella.

Thanks for reading!

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

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Warship Wednesday 22 April 2026: The Morning Star

Here at LSOZI, we take a break every Wednesday to explore the old steam/diesel navies from 1833 to 1954, profiling a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places- Christopher Eger.

If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”

Warship Wednesday 22 April 2026: The Morning Star

Photo via the Danish Naval Museum (Orlogsmuseet) Archives THM-6115

Above, we see the small protected (krydserenGejser (also variously known as Gisjer and Geyser) of the Royal Danish Navy in Copenhagen, with the historic St. Alban’s Church in the background.

The class leader of a new series of modern warships under the Dannebrog, she joined the fleet’s 1st Squadron (I Eskadre) some 130 years ago this month and would go on to perform a solid 30 years of enjoyable, even picturesque, service, punctuated by a moment of horror.

Danish cruisers

The first warship rated as a “cruiser” in Danish service was the 2,663-ton ram-bowed iron-hulled sail-rigged steam schooner cruiser (skonnert-krydseren) Fyen, which commissioned in 1884. She carried an impressive 16 5.9-inch Krupp guns (two 149/32 RK L/35 C/80s and 14 shorter 149/22 RK L/25 C/78s), along with two 356mm bow torpedo tubes, protected by 39mm of armor plate. Capable of 12.5 knots, she was swathed in a 1.5-inch armored steel deck.

Danish cruiser Fyen’s armor and gunnery plan, showing her impressive battery of 16 5.9″ Krupp guns and two torpedo tubes, which wasn’t bad for 1884

Danish cruiser Fyen photographed during the winter of 1885-86, likely during one of her early Mediterranean cruises. By 1907, replaced by newer and more modern ships, she was disarmed and immobilized, turned into a barracks/school hulk, a role she held until scrapping in 1962. NH 85361

Then came a quartet of old (built 1862-78) armored screw schooners/sloops: St. Thomas (1,550 tons) Dagmar (1,200 tons), Ingolf (1,019 tons) and Absalon (533 tons) which were modernized in 1885-88 with new powerplants and a main battery of 4.7″/27 RK L/30 C/84 Krupp guns, backed up by 87mm and 37mm QF guns, to be reclassed as 3rd rate cruisers (krydstogtskib 3. klasse), to remain in service as such for a decade.

The 228-foot Danish Orlogsskonnerten St. Thomas in white tropical paint with yellow stacks and masts, common for service in the Danish West Indies (the Virgin Islands), where she was a station ship during the Spanish-American War. She had been re-armed in 1885 with eight 4.7″27 Krupp breechloaders along with six 37mm Hotchkiss 1-pdrs and redesignated a cruiser corvette (krydserkorvet)

Then came the British-built 3,000-ton krydserkorvet (cruiser corvette) Valkyrien, a close cousin of the Armstrong-built Chilean protected cruiser Esmeralda. Entering service in 1890, she cruised the world and waved the Dannebrog as far away as Siam and Hong Kong, and is most notable for overseeing the Danish West Indies (Virgin Islands) to the U.S. in 1917.

Valkyrien, dansk krysser, krigsskip, Oslofjorden Norwegian archives HHB-15663

This brings us to the 1,322-ton Helka, which would be the first of three planned protected cruisers to replace the old, converted 3rd rates, which were nothing but a stopgap for new construction. Laid down as Yard No. 70 on 9 April 1889, at the Royal Dockyard Copenhagen (Orlogsværftet, København), Hekla had a sloping (1.75-inch to 1-inch) “turtle back” armor deck right, fore, and aft, protecting engines, magazines, steering engines, and shell hoists. Meanwhile, her open gun mounts were all protected by shields.

Danish cruiser Hekla Farenholt collection NH 66303

As noted in 1889’s (London) Engineer [notes mine].

The upper deck is clear fore and aft, leaving ample scope for firing the two 6-inch [149/32 RK C/88 Krupp Schnelladekanone Länge 35] guns, one of which is placed at each end of the ship. Amidships are four [57/40 M.1885] rapid firing guns and two torpedo [381mm] launching tubes. Above the deck houses are six machine guns [37mm M.1875 Hotchkiss 1-pounder Gatling types]. The bridge and a conning tower constructed of nickel steel armor plate are forward. A powerful electric search light is placed on the top of the conning tower and another at the stern of the ship. The Hekla is 225 feet long, her breadth being 33 feet, and of light draught. The engines have been supplied by the Burmeister and Wain Shipbuilding and Engineering Company, Copenhagen.

Before she was even fully outfitted and commissioned, the guns on the old third-rate cruisers were evaluated on the new Hekla.

Danish protected cruiser Hekla photographed at Copenhagen dockyard, 1891, after trials of her cellulose protection in which a 4.7″ shell was fired at 30-35 m. distance by gunboat (3rd rate cruiser) Absalon. The dotted line indicates the bow wave. Searchlights and secondary armament are not in place. NH 85349

Same as above of Hekla, NH 85363

Proven satisfactory in terms of arms and armor, Hekla’s 8-pack of coal-fed locomotive boilers and twin VTEs generated 3,000 shp on twin screws, which was good for 16 knots. Her bunkers could hold 113 tons of coal, which was enough for 1,700nm at 10 knots.

The Danes thought they could tweak that powerplant to do better.

Meet Gejser

Named for the turbulent steam and water discharge common to Iceland (then a Danish territory), Gejser was based on Hekla and nearly identical above water save for the fact that she had a single funnel rather than Hekla’s twin pipe arrangement.

Ordered from Burmeister & Wain, the future Gejser launched on a beautiful summer day on 5 July 1892 with HM King Christian IX in attendance.

Gejser photographed at launch, 5 July 1892, at Burmeister & Wain in Copenhagen. Note her forward 450mm torpedo tube in her ram bow, restraining cable, two old hulks (probably steam frigates Sjaelland and Jylland) in the background, and coast defense battleship Helgoland to the right. Local reports noted, “The beautiful weather had lured many spectators out to the naval yard to watch the launch, both ladies and gentlemen.” NH 85379

As completed, Gejser had roughly the same armament scheme as Hekla save smaller main guns (4.7″/38 QF L/40 C/92s) rather than Hekla’s 5.9s, while retaining the same four 3.45″/37 SK L/40 secondary guns, six 37mm Hotchkiss 1-pdr machine guns, and four torpedo tubes (one 450mm bow, two 381mm beam, one 381 over the stern).

She also had two 35-inch searchlights (Spejlprojektører) and two 8mm machine guns. It should be noted that, while our cruiser had smaller main guns than Hekla, Gejser’s guns could fire more than five rounds per minute compared to one round in Hekla, to a range of 9.2 km compared to 8 km for Hekla’s guns.

Danish Krydseren Gejser

Danish cruiser Gejser NH 85350

Danish cruiser Gejser NH 85354

Gejser had more significant changes from her half-sister when looking below deck, which included the first installation in an armored ship (not a torpedo boat) of eight Thornycroft water tube style boilers (instead of the locomotive boilers on Hekla), which enabled a combined SHP of 3,157 on her full power trial and a speed of 17.1 knots. Further, the smaller (and faster to heat) boilers and other minor changes shaved some 80 tons off Gejser’s displacement when compared to Hekla, even while allowing a gently strengthened armor scheme because of lessons learned from the latter’s 1891 trials.

Via the December 1892 edition of the Engineer (London):

The Danes liked the new Thornycroft boilers so well that they used them on the new “bathtub battleship” armored coastal defense ship Skjold, which was 2,160 tons and mounted 9.4-inch SK L/40 Krupp guns and had up to 10 inches of armor.

Gejser and Skjold in Aarhus THM-6470

The Danes also ordered a near carbon-copy of Gejser, the single-funneled Orlogsværftet-built cruiser Hejmdal (Heimdall), which launched in August 1894 and commissioned in 1895. Meanwhile, Hekla had her boilers upgraded to the new standard in a later refit.

The one-stacked Danish Gejser-class cruiser Hejmdal anchored in a harbor, probably in France, during the summer of 1910 when she was employed as a training ship for naval cadets. She spent much of her early service as the Icelandic station ship, patrolling those waters from March to October-November, then retiring to metropolitan Denmark for the winter. THM-16033

Danish Krydseren Gejser, Heimdal, Hekla, Janes 1904, with several errors. 

Quiet Peacetime service

Delivered on 8 May 1893, Gejser spent her first few years in the fleet in a series of extended tests, trials, and showboating, later steaming that fall on a Baltic cruise with the coastwise battlewagon Iver Hvitfeldt, the cruiser Valkyrien, and four torpedo boats.

Gejser, showing off her stern “stinger” torpedo tube. THM-3241

Then came a series of shipyard availabilities in 1894, followed by a mission to neighboring German waters in the summer of 1895 with her sister Hekla, and the torpedo boats Narhvalen, Støren, Søløven, and Havhesten to represent Denmark at the opening of the Kiel Canal. Seventy-six warships totaling 380,000 tons from 15 different nations anchored in the roadstead for this historic event.

The Danish ships were positioned in the international naval parade ahead of the German cruisers SMS Kaiserin Augusta and Gefion and behind the American USS Marblehead (Cruiser No. 11) and New York (Armored Cruiser No. 2), anchored just off the German Marine Akademie.

The squadron representing Denmark at the official opening of the Kaiser Wilhelm Kanal in Kiel in 1895. The ships, identified in verso of the frame, consist of modern war vessels: the torpedo boats “Nahrvalen” (launched 1888), the “Havhesten”, the light cruiser “Hekla” (launched 1890), the torpedo boat “Støren” (launched 1887), the light cruiser “Gejser” (launched 1892) and the “Søløven” by Vilhelm Karl Ferdinand Arnesen.

Plan of the harbor, showing anchorages of warships present for ceremonies opening the Kiel Canal, June 1895. NH 89539

Fully operational, Gejser joined the 1st Squadron in 1896 and remained in the fleet’s first line until 1903. One of her skippers during this period was Prince Valdemar, a career naval officer who just happened to be the last son of King Christian IX of Denmark and brother to King George I of Greece and Frederick VIII of Denmark.

She was then tasked as a training ship (Øvelsesskib), home to the gunnery and torpedo school.

She would continue in this role, clocking in for regular Squadron exercises each fall, until November 1905, when she was used, along with the bruising coastal battleship Olfert Fischer, to escort the royal yacht (kongeskibet) Dannebrog to Oslo, the latter taking Prince Carl of Denmark to become the king of newly independent Norway upon the dissolution of that country’s near century-long union with Sweden.

The Danish Prince Carl sailing on his way to becoming King Haakon VII of Norway. The Dannebrog was escorted by the Danish coastal defense ship Olfert Fischer (to the right) and the small cruiser Geiser (behind O.F.). Painted by Vilhelm Karl Ferdinand Arnesen.

Prince Carl and Princess Maud arriving in the Oslofjord as King Haakon VII and Queen Maud of Norway in 1905. The royal yacht Dannebrog leads the column, escorted by the Danish naval ships Olfert Fischer and Geiser and joined by two Norwegian coastal defense ships. Painted by Vilhelm Karl Ferdinand Arnesen.

After spending most of 1906 in refit (she had 10 years of squadron service behind her), Gejser shipped out with the Royal Division (Kongedelingen) alongside the Danish EAC steamer Birma (ex-Arundel Castle) to carry King Frederick VIII and the members of the Danish Parliament to the Faroe Islands and Iceland in the summer of 1907.

King Frederik VIII’s departure from Reykjavik, 1907. Frederik VIII visited Iceland in 1907 with a deputation of members of parliament. The picture depicts the king’s departure from Reykjavik on board EAC’s Birma. Cruiser Gejser following. Painted by Vilhelm Karl Ferdinand Arnesen.

Gejser then returned to service as the training ship for the Artillery and Torpedo School (Artilleri- og Torpedoskolen), a stint interrupted by escorting Frederik on his visit to relatives in Russia (the Tsar was his first cousin) in the summer of 1909, with the Danish royal family gathering at the Tsar’s palace at Peterhof.

Russian Empress Alexandra Feodorovna, Queen Louise of Denmark, Victoria Battenberg, King Frederik, Tsar Nicholas II, Grand Duchess Olga, Tsarevich Alexei, Grand Duchess Marie, Grand Duchess Anastasia, Princess Thyra of Denmark, and Princess Dagmar of Denmark in front of the Lower Dacha in Peterhof, July 1909.

During a circa 1910 refit, both Gejser and Hejmdal landed their half-dozen 37mm Hotchkiss guns in exchange for a quartet of more modern 57mm 6-pounder M.1885 Hotchkiss high-angle anti-aircraft (antiluftskytskanoner) guns. Meanwhile, older half-sister Hekla was transferred to the reserve and disarmed. Hekla was converted into a depot and logistics ship by 1913. Hejmdal returned to service as a cadet training vessel.

In ordinary from 1 October 1912 to 7 January 1914, Gejser was brought back into active service for use as a submarine tender, leaving the Valkyrien as the Danish Navy’s only active cruiser.

At the time, the Danish fleet had nine submarines: eight Whitehead (Fiume) diesel-electric types of 129 feet/200 tons and the older gasoline-engined Fiat-built 114-foot/130-ton Dykkeren.

War!

When the lights went out across Europe in August 1914, the Danish navy counted some 4,000 officers, men, and cadets. They protected not only the country’s coastline and overseas possessions (Iceland, Greenland, Faroes, West Indies), but also its merchant fleet, which at the time had some 558 registered steamers (398,323 tons all told) and over 3,400 sailing vessels of all sizes.

At its disposal were five coastal battleships (Peder Skram, Olfert Fischer, Herluf Trolle, Skjold, and Iver Hvitfeldt), three remaining cruisers (Gejser, Hejmdal, and Valkyrien) rushed back to front-line service, 20 assorted torpedo boats, the nine small submarines detailed above, and a handful of mine ships, gunboats, and “fisheries cruisers” (inspetionsskibe), with none of the latter larger than 700 tons.

With that, on 4 August 1914, the fleet was put on a war footing and, as the Security Force (Sikringsstyrken), was divided between the 1st Squadron in the Øresund in the North between Denmark and Sweden and the 2nd Squadron in the Great Belt (Storebælt) to the West between Zealand and Funen.

Gejser spent most of the war alternating between squadrons, with exceptions for a refit (from September to December 1916) and for brief stints as a training ship.

She even carried King Christian X from Copenhagen to Korsør in November 1915.

King Christian X onboard Danish cruiser Geiser in snow squall on the way to Korsor, 25 November 1915, with three torpedo boats following. By Vilhelm Karl Ferdinand Arnesen

One of Gejser’s past skippers, CDR Rord Hammer, who commanded her from 1905-09, would lead the delegation carrying the bodies of the men killed aboard HM submarine E.13, which, after being grounded at Søndre Flindt, was fired upon by German torpedo boats on 19 August 1915.

Post-war tragedy

With peace, of a sort, falling over Europe, Gejser was moved back to her regular mission of summer cadet cruises and school ship duties, interspersed with training evolutions.

Gejser’s training cruise, 1919 THM-33595

Coal gang during Gejser’s training cruise, 1919 THM-33597

Cutlass drill during Gejser’s training cruise, 1919 THM-33598

Gejser’s training cruise, 1919 THM-33599

To the cutlass! Gejser’s training cruise, 1919 THM-33605

Gejser’s training cruise, 1919. THM-35518

Danish Krydseren Gejser 1921 Janes

A ship designed with naval thinking that predated the Spanish-American War, Gejser was well past her prime in the 1920s. Her typical service during this period was in summer exercises and maneuvers (May-July).

The worst day aboard Gejser came on 25 May 1923 when, during a demonstration of a new fog generating apparatus (Taageudviklingsapparater), an explosion occurred.

The device used “the devil’s element,” yellow phosphorus, held in a tank that, when fed via a steam line from the ship’s boilers, would yield great clouds of billowing smoke used to hide the cruiser and its accompanying force. Shown off to an assembled crowd of officers gathered from throughout the fleet, the novel device exploded with a shot like that of a cannon, and Gejser was enveloped in an extremely poisonous and flammable cloud of vaporized phosphorus, glowing like a morning star through the smoke.

No less than 47 men were extremely injured, including her skipper, Capt. Godfred Hansen, the famed second-in-command of Amundsen’s Gjoa expedition through the Northwest Passage in 1903-06.

Most of the commanders of the exercise squadron’s nine torpedo boats and three minelayers were also among the wounded. LCDR Paul C. Rützou, commander of the torpedo boat Delfinen, died at the Garrison Hospital in Vordingborg after an agonizing 16 days. Crown Prince Frederik (later King Frederik IX from 1947), then a junior officer, had only left Gejser moments before returning to his torpedo boat.

Many of the men suffered terrible disfigurement, with Sir Harold Delf Gillies, known as the father of plastic surgery in Britain, traveling to Denmark especially to treat them.

Gejser was repaired and returned to service. Notably, she conducted a series of cadet training cruises around the Baltic and Mediterranean in 1924, 1925, 1926, and 1927. She also functioned as an escort ship in the Royal Division for King Christian X’s trip to the Faroe Islands and Iceland in 1926.

Danish cruiser Gejser 1926

Geyser in dry dock Naval Yard 1926 THM-7305

She was removed from the fleet’s list on 28 May 1928 and sold for her value in scrap.

Her sister Hejmdal was likewise disposed of in 1930.

Danish cruiser Hejmdal circa 1922 THM-8985

Their collective older half-sister Hekla, hulked in 1915, amazingly was only disposed of in 1955.

Epilogue

Little remains of our cruiser that I can locate, other than an abundance of maritime art.

Danish cruiser Gejser, by Vilhelm Arnesen, showing off her bow torpedo tube

As Iceland gained sovereignty as a separate kingdom under the Danish crown in 1918, and then moved toward complete independence in 1944, Denmark had little impetus to name another warship after geysers.

When it comes to Gejser’s former skippers, Emmanuel Briand de Crevecoeur (as headmaster of the artillery school in 1923 and then as her commanding officer proper from 1926-27), was a rear admiral holding the tough dual seats of Chief of the Naval Command and Acting Director of the Ministry of the Navy in 1940 after the Germans occupied Denmark, assuming the spots vacated by RADM Hjalmar Rechnitzer, who had resigned in disgrace. Later interned by the Germans, De Crevecoeur retired after liberation in 1945, wrapping up a career that he began as a cadet in 1898. Spending his retirement as a professor of languages at Krogerup College, he passed away in 1968.

Perhaps the best-known of Gejser’s skippers, the polar explorer Hansen, recovered from his wounds and held several further seagoing commands before becoming commandant of the Danish naval academy. He passed in 1937, aged 61, while still a rear admiral on the naval rolls.

However, the legacy of Gejser’s 1923 explosion echoed well into the 1950s.

One of Gejser’s junior officers, 1Lt Kai Hammerich, was so debilitated in the blast that he was under medical treatment in both Denmark and England for several years thereafter. Later transferring to the country’s lighthouse service, he soon became active in the Danish Red Cross and, as head of the organization in 1950, took command of the 356-bed Danish hospital ship MS Jutlandia during the Korean War. Serving for 999 days during the conflict, Jutlandia cared for 4,981 gravely wounded soldiers from 24 different nations, as well as over 6,000 Korean civilians.

Royal Danish Navy Reserve Capt. Kai Hammerich aboard MS Jutlana during the Korean War, one of Gejser’s most prominent veterans. Hammerich was awarded a South Korea’s Order of Merit (대한민국장), the country’s highest honor, in March 1952 UN Photo 7667766

Thanks for reading!

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

If you like this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find. http://www.warship.org/membership.htm

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.

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Warship Wednesday 18 March 2026: A Lake by any Other Name

Here at LSOZI, we take a break every Wednesday to explore the old steam/diesel navies of the 1833-1954 period, profiling a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places.- Christopher Eger

If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”

Warship Wednesday 18 March 2026:  A Lake by any Other Name

Via the New Zealand Navy Museum, Torpedo Bay, photo AAT 0005

Above we see the very Commonwealth-oriented Loch-class frigate HMNZS Tutira (F 571) with a bone in her teeth off Korea between August 1950 and April 1951.

Built in Tyneside, she served with a Canadian crew under a different name during WWII before shipping to her new home a world away with a Kiwi crew– and a much different war against a new enemy.

The Lochs

The 151 frigates of the River class, built in 29 yards across three continents between May 1941 and May 1946, were a baseline for anti-submarine escorts in the British Royal and Commonwealth nations. While built in five slightly different groups, the Rivers were all generally 1,500 tons light/2,000 tons full load displacement, 301 feet overall length, and with a 36-foot beam. Using twin reciprocating steam engines that could generate about 5,500 shp, they could make 20 knots and steam for 7,000 at an economical 12.

Manned by a ~100-man crew, they carried a couple of 4″/40s augmented by an AAA suite but were primarily outfitted as sub-busters with a Hedgehog projector, up to eight depth charge throwers, two depth charge rails, and allowance for as many as 150 “ash cans.”

River-class frigates fitting out at Vickers Canada, 1944

Where the Lochs were an incremental improvement over the Rivers was that they were gently larger (307 feet oal), were simplified in construction, used mercantile engineering machinery, and had an allowance for a single 4″/40 mount, then ditching the Hedgehog for a pair of triple-barreled Mark IV Squid ASW mortars. Each Squid could project three 440-pound depth bombs to 275 yards abeam.

The overall layout of the Loch class frigates. Note the single 4″/40 mount forward, followed by two Squids on the forecastle. Her quad 40mm Mark VII QF 2-pounder Pom Pom gun was aft, while two 40mm singles and as many as eight 20mm Oerlikons were arrayed abeam.

Installed on only some 70 RN and Commonwealth frigates and corvettes during the war, Squid’s first successful use was by the Loch-class frigate HMS Loch Killin on 31 July 1944, when she sank U-333.

HMCS Iroquois and Swansea at Halifax with two Squid ASW mortars shown forward. The system was credited with sinking 17 submarines in 50 attacks over the course of the war – a success ratio of 2.9 to 1. MIKAN SWN0284

Anti-Submarine Weapons: Anti-submarine Mortar Mark IV Squid launchers and loading apparatus on the forecastle of Loch class corvette, HMS Loch Fada, in Gladstone Dock, Liverpool. 27 October 1944 IWM (A 26153)

Royal Navy sailors loading a Squid anti-submarine mortar.

Battle class destroyer HMS Barrosa steams through the wake of her Squid anti-submarine mortar system, showing the usefulness of its triple-barreled format. IWM (A 33111)

The Loch design catered to small yards with limited infrastructure through the miracle of prefabricated modular construction techniques. No subassembly of the ship would be larger than 29 feet long, 8.5 feet wide, and 8.5 feet tall, with a maximum weight of 2.5 tons to allow for easy lift by even the most modest of crane and rail systems. As much as 80 percent of the ship could be prefabbed and then sent for assembly in the graving dock, with great effort meant to eliminate curves in favor of straight-line construction.

The late-war sensor fit was advanced compared to what RN escorts were working with just a few years earlier, with the Lochs carrying Type 277 radars (good for detecting high flying aircraft out to 40 miles and surface contacts at 20) and Type 144 ASDIC with Type 147B depth finding sonars.

Using a pair of  VT4cyl (18.5, 31 & 38.5, 38.5 x 30ins) engines and two Admiralty 3-drum boilers, they could gen up 5,500 hp and push it out on twin screws. With 724 tons of fuel oil carried, these ships were slightly slower than the 20-knot Rivers, typically hitting 19.5 knots on trials and 18 or so when dirty and fully loaded at 2,200 tons displacement, but had a higher cruising speed (15 knots vs 12) for a 7,000nm range.

Loch class frigate HMS Loch Insh, October 1944 IWM (FL 14742)

With class leader HMS Loch Achanalt (K424) ordered from Henry Robb Limited, Leith in July 1942, the first completed Lochs only started arriving in the fleet in early 1944.

While 110 hulls were planned and 82 ordered from at least 10 yards, peace intervened, and only 28 were completed, the rest being canceled or, in the case of 26, converted to Bay class AAA frigates for Pacific service with a much reduced depth charge capacity and no Squid mortars to allow room for a roughly doubled gun battery.

Meet Loch Morlich

Our subject is the only warship named for the peaceful 5,000-foot freshwater loch (Mhor Thalamic in Gaelic) in the Badenoch and Strathspey area of Highland, Scotland, near Aviemore. Ordered 13 February 1943 as Yard No. 1784 from the fine Tyneside firm of Swan Hunter, Wallsend, for construction at the Neptune Yard in Low Walker, the future HMCS Loch Morlich (K 517) was laid down five months later on 15 July 1943.

Loch Morlich was one of eight Loch class frigates ordered from Swan Hunter, with sister Loch Shin (K 421) ordered five months prior. Sister Loch Cree was instead completed by Swan as the South African Navy’s SAS Natal (K 10). Meanwhile, two other Swan-built sisters, the planned Loch Assynt and Loch Torridon, were instead completed post-war as the unarmed depot ships Derby Haven and Woodbridge Haven. Of the rest, Swan was told to cancel the planned Loch Griam, Loch Kirbister, and Loch Lyon as the war ended.

Morlich’s sister, HMSAS Natal (K 10), a South African Loch class frigate fitting out, 5 March 1945. One of three Lochs completed for the South African Navy, she would go on to sink the German submarine U-714 on 14 March, only four hours after having left Swan! IWM A 28216

Launched 25 January 1944, Loch Morlich was bound for Canadian service and fully Canadian manned with her first skipper, T/A/LCDR Leslie Lewendon Foxall, RCNVR, assuming command while she was fitting out on 6 March 1944. Foxall had commanded the smaller Flower-class corvette HMCS Chilliwack (K 131) for two years on Atlantic convoy runs, so he knew his trade.

War!

With WWII well into its sixth year, Loch Morlich broke out her colors on 17 July 1944 and was assigned to the 8th Canadian Escort Group. Two other Lochs likewise went to the Canadians, Loch Achanalt (to the 6th CEG) and Loch Alvie (9th CEG), in July and August, respectively.

Morlich’s workups in the Western Approaches were delayed due to accidents while training, but she eventually made ready and sailed with her first convoys, MKS 067G and SL 176MK, on 17-18 November.

Loch Morlich CTB016772

HMS Loch Morlic (K 517) secured to a buoy on the Tyne. IWM FL 6042

She would clock in on at least six other convoys over the next five months, most of them under the command of Lt. George Frederick Crosby, RCNVR, who took over from Foxall in December 1944.

The Lochs were on hand to corral the last of Donitz’s steel sharks at sea in May 1945.

Loch class frigate HMCS Loch Alvie (K 428), and a surrendered U-boat, May 1945. (Library and Archives Canada Photo, MIKAN No. 4950920, color)

The class is credited with assisting in the sinking of at least 17 U-boats as vetted by post-war examination boards.

After VE-Day, it was decided that the three Canadian-manned Lochs should return to England to prep for possible Pacific service under RN control. Morlich returned to Sheerness, and her Canadian crew was released on 20 June 1945, apparently returning home with the ship’s HMCS-marked bell. Paid off, the frigate was reduced to Reserve status.

Her RN crew never came, preempted by VJ Day.

No Lochs were lost in combat.

Meet Tutira

While some had thought the post-WWII New Zealand Squadron should be built around one of the RN’s many surplus aircraft carriers–after all, Canada and Australia had gotten into the flattop game as well– and, indeed, the Colossus-class carrier HMS Glory had operated from New Zealand as part of J Force in 1946, taking RNZAF Squadron No. 14 to Japan for occupation duties, RADM George Walter Gillow Simpson CB, CBE, head of the New Zealand Navy Staff in the late 1940s, instead championed for a smaller, more anti-submarine, force.

A series of non-violent mutinies among the ships of the NZ fleet in April 1947 over poor living and working conditions, coupled with outrageously low pay, further emphasized the downshift from such lofty carrier goals, and J Force returned home from occupation duties by September 1948, its mission complete.

While over 10,000 men served in the RNZN and RNZNVR during WWII on 60 commissioned ships, by the late 1940s, the peacetime New Zealand fleet shrank to just 2,900 officers and men, enough to man two 5,900-ton light (5.25-inch gunned) Dido class cruisers (HMNZS Black Prince and Bellona, later Royalist), six surplus ASW frigates, four 1,000-ton Bathurst-class escort minesweepers, eight minesweeping trawlers (including the famous Kiwi and Tui), the disarmed River-class frigate Lachlan used as a survey ship, a dozen 72-foot MLs, as well as miscellaneous tenders and tugs.

The half-dozen above-mentioned “surplus ASW frigates” were laid up Lochs that were sold to NZ for the princely sum of £1,500,000 for the lot, weapons included, transferred between 13 September 1948 and 11 April 1949 after refits. Loch Morlich in particular went for £228,250.

Taking a page from their original loch names, in NZ service they earned names of lakes from their new home country, with Loch Eck becoming HMNZ Hawea, Loch Achray – Kaniere, Loch Achanalt – Pukaki, Loch Katrine – Rotoiti, Loch Shin – Taupo, and our Loch Morlich now HMNZS Tutira. They kept their old pennant numbers, just changing the K to an F, with Loch Morlich (K 517), for example, becoming Tutira (F 517) in New Zealand service.

HMNZS Pukaki (formerly Loch Achanalt) and two other Loch class frigates of the Royal New Zealand Navy

HMNZS Taupo, a Loch class frigate of the Royal New Zealand Navy, Auckland Anniversary Regatta, 29 January 1951

Loch-class frigate HMNZS Hawea (F422), formerly HMS Loch Eck (K422), photographed in 1955

HMNZS Tutira F 517

The NZ Lochs were soon frolicking in their home waters in exercises with the British East Indies Fleet and RAN.

15 March 1950. Ships of the Australian and New Zealand naval fleets are arriving at Auckland for combined naval exercises. HMNZS Tutira (left) and Pukaki (middle). Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 1370-U045-08.

March 1950. HMNZS Pukaki (F424) and other frigates in Akaroa Harbour during combined naval exercises of the Royal New Zealand and Australian Navies. The exercises included the British submarine HMS Telemachus, the Australian aircraft carrier HMAS Sydney, four New Zealand frigates-HMNZS Taupo, Rotoiti, Tutira, and Pukaki-the Australian frigate HMAS Murchison, the destroyers HMAS Bataan and Warramunga, and the cruisers HMNZS Bellona and HMAS Australia. Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 1370-313-15.

March 1950. The cruiser HMAS Australia (D84) in the foreground with other ships in Akaroa Harbour during combined naval exercises of the Royal New Zealand and Australian Navies. The exercises included the British submarine HMS Telemachus, the Australian aircraft carrier HMAS Sydney, four New Zealand frigates-HMNZS Taupo, Rotoiti, Tutira, and Pukaki-the Australian frigate HMAS Murchison, the destroyers HMAS Bataan and Warramunga, and the cruisers HMNZS Bellona and HMAS Australia. Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 1370-313-12

March 1950.Aircraft and crew on the deck of HMAS Sydney (note her 805 Squadron Hawker Sea Furies and 816 Squadron Fairey Fireflies) with an unidentified frigate behind during combined naval exercises of the Royal New Zealand and Australian navies in Akaroa Harbour. The exercises included the British submarine HMS Telemachus, the Australian aircraft carrier HMAS Sydney, four New Zealand frigates-HMNZS Taupo, Rotoiti, Tutira, and Pukaki-the Australian frigate HMAS Murchison, the destroyers HMAS Bataan and Warramunga, and the cruisers HMNZS Bellona and HMAS Australia. Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 1370-313-18

On 12 May 1950, LCDR Peter James Hill Hoare, RN, assumed command of Tutira. Born just months before Jutland, the 34-year-old Hoare had graduated from the Nautical College at Pangbourne and earned his lieutenant’s stripe in 1938, going on to command the sloop HMS Bridgewater (L 01) and frigate HMS Hoste (K 566) on Atlantic convoy duties during WWII. He would soon be in his and Tutira’s second war.

Korea

Just three days after North Korea invaded its democratic neighbor to the South, New Zealand answered the call of the United Nations and said it would be dispatching two warships.

Those ships were our Loch Morlich/Tutira and Loch Achanalt/Pukaki, which ironically were two-thirds of the Lochs that had served with the Canadians during WWII.

As noted by the NZ Navy Museum, Torpedo Bay:

On the 3rd of July, HMNZS Tutira and Pukaki left Auckland. The ships arrived in Korea on the 27th of July and were given an escort role with up to four convoys a week. The assigned task of the frigates was described as the most thankless of the sea war – ‘dull, daily routine patrol’. However, this work was of vital importance to the United Nations cause in Korea. The commander of the U.S. Naval Forces, Vice Admiral Joy, noted ‘The unspectacular role of carrying personnel and supplies to Korea was perhaps the Navy’s greatest contribution’.

Skipped over in that description is the fact that the two NZ frigates were on hand for the famed amphibious landings at Inchon on 15 September 1950 as part of TG 90.7 (the screening and protective group) and patrolled the waters just off the bridgehead to guard the Marines ashore from potential seaborne attack.

Then came use with the U.S. Navy task group off Wonson in October. It was there that one of Loch Morlich’s crew, Petty Officer Henry Matthew Blizzard, was killed by shrapnel from an exploding mine, one of just three RNZN personnel killed during the war.

The NZ frigates remained in Korean waters until early November, when they were sent to Sasebo, Japan, for quick refit.

An RN photographer caught up to Tutira in Japan in November 1950 and captured some great images of her crew, which included several English lads and at least one Scot.

November 1950. The Asdic team of the Tutira kept constant watch for 42 days. In the harbor, they are engaged in depth charge equipment. A/B M Anderson, Tekuiti, North Island, New Zealand; A/B M M Clark, Wellington, New Zealand; L/S J Belcher, Torbay; A/B M W Bailey, Waitara, N Island, New Zealand; A/B R Allister, Liverpool; A/B M R Lewis, Christchurch, New Zealand. IWM 31760.

AB J Teaika, Christchurch, New Zealand, Tutira’s Quartermaster. IWM A 31759.

HMNZS Tutira’s port Oerlikon crew at action stations. Note the old tin plate helmets, certainly quaint in 1950. Leading Seaman B J Mason, Taihape, N Island, New Zealand; and Able Seaman A B Tripp, Wembley, England. IWM A 31754.

HMNZS Tutira. On the signal platform, left to right: Signalman R H (Curly) Richardson, Masterson, North Island, New Zealand; Signalman R P Davies, Morden, Surrey, England; Signalman C J Pitcher, Ringwood, Hants, England; Leading Signalman P J Stewart, Dunedin, South Island, New Zealand. IWM A 31755.

Tutira Galley staff, right to left: P/O Cook R Lowndes, Worthing, Sussex; Cook D Hornsby, Sheffield; Cook D W Jackman, Guildford, Surrey; Cook (O) A Davidson, New Plymouth, New Zealand; Cook M Pickard, Christchurch; Cook T Goddard, Southampton. IWM A 31757

Some of Tutira’s engine room company. Stoker Mech V G Brightwell, Auckland; Stoker Mech W Coppins, Ashford, Kent; Stoker Mech J O’Grady, Manchester; Stoker R A Blann, Epsom, Surrey; Stoker P/O J V Murray, Hythe, Kent; Stoker P/O A C Cameron, Auckland; Stoker Mech B A Gabb, Larkworth, New Zealand; Stoker Mech K D Bickham, Auckland, New Zealand; Stoker Mech W A Page, Deptford; ERA W S Watson, Christchurch, New Zealand; Stoker P/O J Adams, Aberdeen, Scotland; ERA C J de Larue, Auckland, New Zealand. IWM A 31758

Early 1951 saw Tutira and Pukaki patrolling Korea’s coast, supporting the evacuations from Inchon and Chinampo, and later supporting ROKN mine-clearing operations. In particular, they took turns operating with the South Korean Navy minesweepers YMS 502 and YMS 503 between 15 March and 7 April.

RNZN frigate crews in Korea often went ashore in several “Nelsonian” night raids against coastal targets and took several prisoners for intelligence gathering. One of Tutira’s former sailors, Able Seaman Robert Marchioni, who joined the crew of her sister Rotoiti, was killed ashore on 26 August 1951 on one such nocturnal raid near Sogon-ni while trying to do a prisoner grab on a Chinese gun emplacement. Marchioni’s body was never recovered.

While Pukaki was relieved by sister Rotoiti in February 1951, Tutira remained on station for three more months until relieved by sister Hawea, only arriving back home in Devonport on 30 May, having steamed 35,400 miles and having been away from New Zealand for nearly 11 months. LCDR Hoare and two ratings were awarded a Mention in Despatches, and the ship earned her only battle honor (Korea 1950-51).

New Zealand’s naval involvement in the Korean War lasted three years and involved all six of its Lochs, with the last, Kaniere, returning home on 2 March 1954. Almost half the manpower of the RNZN– approximately 1,350 officers and ratings-  shipped out for Korean waters over those nearly four years. In their eight tours (Rotoiti and Hawea both went twice), the New Zealand Lochs steamed 339,584 nautical miles and fired 71,625 rounds of ammunition in action.

Kayforce, a New Zealand Army artillery and engineer detachment that served in Korea from December 1950 onward with the 27th British Commonwealth Infantry Brigade, saw 4,600 men rotate through its ranks before it was finally brought home in July 1957, suffering 42 deaths and 79 wounded.

New Zealand’s 16 Field Regiment fired 800,000 rounds in the Korean War- far more than any Kiwi regiment fired in World War II- and the conflict was described as an “artilleryman’s paradise.” National Library PA1-f-113-1861

End time

After service with the 11th Flotilla and fleet exercises with the Australians, in August 1953, the well-traveled Tutira was put into reserve at Auckland, then partially refitted and given limited sea trials in late June 1954. Following these trials, she was partially cocooned and not modernized as her sister vessels had been. Placed in extended reserve, she was slowly and extensively cannibalized for parts to keep her active duty sisters on the job.

In February 1957, with the realization that, under SEATO, a future Pacific War would likely see combat against roaming Soviet submarines, the NZ government ordered a pair of Type 12 (Rothesay) class ASW frigates to be built eight months apart in Britain at Thornycroft and White, respectively. Named HMNZS Otago (F 111) and Taranaki (F 148), the 2,500-ton frigates were modern with a Seacat missile system, Limbo depth charge mortars, and a twin 4.5-inch turret. They were followed by a third, improved Type 12 (Leander) class, HMNZS Waikato (F 55) in 1966, while a fourth Type 12, HMS Blackpool (F 77) was leased from the RN.

These new vessels meant the New Zealand admiralty could divest itself of its obsolete WWII-era cruisers and frigates. Black Prince reverted to RN control and was scrapped in Japan in 1962, while Royalist was decommissioned in 1966, likewise reverting to the RN for disposal.

New Zealand Lochs, Jane’s, 1960

Of the Lochs in NZ service, Taupo and Tutira were sold for scrap to a Hong Kong-based broker on 15 December 1961, with Hawea and Pukaki following in September 1965. The final pair, Rotolti and Kanire, by then classed as 2nd Rate Escorts, served until they were disposed of in 1966.

October 1961. The frigates HMNZS Tutira F517 (right) and HMNZS Taupo (left) off Cape Reinga en route to Hong Kong, where they were sold for scrap. In the center, the Otapiri tows the tug Atlas to Whangaparāoa Harbor for repairs after its towline fouled the seabed five miles north of Cape Reigna. Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 1370-029-22-02

Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 1370-029-22-03

HMNZS Rotoiti paying off, 1965, Loch class frigate. Image AAR 0032 

As far as her Loch class sisters still afloat elsewhere, the RN kept a couple in service as F-pennant frigates (Loch Lomond and Loch Killisport) until as late as 1965, while Loch Fada served as a missile test bed until 1970– vetting Sea Wolf. One interesting sister who began life as Loch Eil was converted to a Bay class AAA frigate (Herne Bay), finally became the survey ship HMS Dampier, and was kept until 1968.

Of interest, Dampier, limping along with a broken shaft from Freetown to Chatham in December 1967, hoisted three lug sails and a set of square sails made from awning canvas to gain an extra knot or two to make England just in time for Christmas– thus is the pluck of frigatemen.

HMS Dampier (A303) – ex Loch-class frigate, survey ship. 1967 under sail

The South Africans kept their trio of Lochs active well into the 1970s, with the last, SAS Good Hope (ex-Loch Boisdale) scuttling in December 1978, the final member of the class. She remains part of an artificial reef some 101 feet under False Bay near Cape Town.

Epilogue

One of the Loch Morlich’s/Tutira’s 3-pounder guns has been preserved ashore at the stone frigate HMNZS Philomel, the RNZN base at Devonport, Auckland.

Her 1944-marked HMCS Loch Morlich bell, presumably removed before she went to New Zealand, has long been in private hands and was sold at auction in Boston last year for less than $3,000.

A For Posterity’s Sake page exists for Loch Morlich’s RCN veterans.

She and her sister Pukaki are also remembered in maritime art, immortalized on their Korean deployment.

Painting of HMNZS Pukaki and HMNZS Tutira at Inchon by Colin Wynn.

CDR Peter James Hill Hoare, OBE, Tutira’s Korean War skipper, retired from the RN on 29 January 1966, capping 28 years in uniform. He passed away in 1984, aged 68.

The Loch Class Frigates Association was formed in 1993 but held its last reunion in 2019 and disappeared from the internet in 2023. Before they faded away, they established a memorial cairn at Alrewas in 2005, finished with stones from each of the 28 Lochs completed.

Colin Sweett via IWM

Likewise, a Loch class frigate is featured on the Korean War memorial plaque at Devonport, New Zealand, dedicated by the New Zealand Korea Veterans’ Association in 2000. It rests upon a stone donated by the city of Pusan.

As you may remember, Devonport Naval Base is where Tutira and Pukaki sortied from for Korea on 3 July 1950.

Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections 3003-0217

Thanks for reading!

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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Warship Wednesday, 11 March 2026: Mighty Morrill

Here at LSOZI, we take a break every Wednesday to explore the old steam/diesel navies of the 1833-1954 period, profiling a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places.- Christopher Eger

If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”

Warship Wednesday 11 March 2026: Mighty Morrill

Detroit Publishing Collection in the Library of Congress. LC-D4-9007

Above we see, roughly some 125 years ago, the U.S. Revenue Cutter Morrill, forward, just off the sleek yacht Pathfinder, “standing guard at the first turn,” during the Canada’s Cup yacht race on Lake Ontario in 1901, when Pathfinder hosted the judges. The race was won by the Invader of Mr. Aemilius Jarvis, for the Royal Canadian Yacht Club, besting the yacht Cadillac of the Chicago Club in three of four races.

While dressed in gleaming white and buff, Morrill was a fighter when needed and had already seen service in one war with the “Mosquito Fleet” and had another on the schedule.

Meet Morrill

Our subject is the only U.S. warship named for President Ulysses S. Grant’s circa 1876-77 Treasury Secretary, Lot Myrick Morrill, a former Maine governor and longtime U.S. Senator who passed in 1883. As such, the vessel continued the cutter service’s common naming convention, which repeatedly used the names of past Treasury Secretaries, dating back to Alexander Hamilton.

Part of a trend in the 1880s-90s to build new cutters that could double as gunboats and dispatch boats for the Navy in time of war, USRC Morrill was steel-hulled and had a steam plant capable of pushing her at 13 knots on a compound steam plant (engine cylinders measuring 24 and 38 inches, with a 30-inch stroke). At the same time, her auxiliary schooner rig could be used to extend cruising range.

Some 145 feet overall with a 24-foot beam, Morrill displaced 288 tons and had a draft of just over 12 feet on a standard load. She was a forerunner of the six slightly larger 205-foot “Propeller-class” plow-bowed cruising cutters built 1896-98.

USRC Morrill, circa 1898-1917, while stationed on the Great Lakes, via the Edward J. Dowling Collection, University of Detroit-Mercy

USRC Morrill, circa 1898-1917, while stationed on the Great Lakes, via the Edward J. Dowling Collection, University of Detroit-Mercy

USCG Morrill, circa 1916-1917 (note her “Coast Guard” life rings), while stationed on the Great Lakes, via the Edward J. Dowling Collection, University of Detroit-Mercy

USRC Morrill, circa 1898-1917, while stationed on the Great Lakes, via the Edward J. Dowling Collection, University of Detroit-Mercy

USRC Morrill, circa 1898-1917, while stationed on the Great Lakes, via the Edward J. Dowling Collection, University of Detroit-Mercy

Morrill’s peacetime armament was a single light 6-pounder 57mm Hotchkiss QF gun forward, which could be quickly doubled and augmented with a 3-inch mount in time of war, with weight and space reserved for the extra ordnance. Cutters of the era typically shipped with 55 service rounds for their main gun and 110 blank charges for drill, salutes, or “shots across the bow.”

2nd LT Godfrey L. Carden instructing a 6-pounder gun crew aboard the Revenue Cutter Morill in South Carolina waters, circa 1892. Note the rarely-seen USRSC officer’s sword. Carden would later become the Captain of the Port for New York City in the Great War. USCGH Photo 210210-G-G0000-1002

A significant small arms locker of rifles and revolvers could arm half of her 40-man crew for duty ashore or in seizing vessels, be they bandits and smugglers in peacetime or enemy shipping in war. The service of the era was often called upon to restore law and order ashore, as exemplified in a famous incident where a squad from the revenue cutter McLane landed in Cedar Key, Florida, in 1890 to reclaim the town from its pistol-toting mayor and his gang of ruffians!

Morrill’s berth deck enlisted accommodations were considered spacious for the period and, if needed, would “readily admit of 70 men.”

Her magazine included provision for several large electrically detonated “wrecking mines” packed with as much as 238 pounds of guncotton, used in destroying derelicts– or in reducing hazardous icebergs and blasting paths in the ice sheet both on the Great Lakes and North Atlantic.

Back in the days of wooden-hulled fishing vessels and cargo schooners (sometimes loaded with buoyant cargo such as timber), abandoned vessels could often remain afloat for weeks and remain an enduring hazard to navigation, requiring the dangerous task of sending a wrecking crew in a small boat to rig the gun cotton mines to a waterlogged, unstable hulk.

Cutter destroying a derelict ‘A subject for Dynamite’ drawn by W. Taber, engraved by H. Davidson.

Derelict located by Revenue Cutter Seneca had drifted 285 miles, circa 1900. NARA 56-AR-006

Revenue Cutter McCulloch, attaching mines to destroy a derelict, circa 1900. National Archives Identifier 158884024. NARA Local Identifier 56-AR-63

Revenue Cutter Miami, Preparing to place mines to destroy derelict, circa 1900

Revenue Cutter Onondaga, Loading mines for destroyed sunken wreck, circa 1900. NARA AR-066

Built in 1889 by the Pusey and Jones Corp., Wilmington, Delaware, for a cost of $72,600, USRC Lot M. Morrill (typically only ever seen as “Morrill” in paperwork) was commissioned on 10 October of that year.

In typical Revenue Cutter fashion, her crew crossed decked from an older cutter that was decommissioned in the same stroke– the Civil War-era USRC Naugatuck, which had been based at New Bern, North Carolina since 1865.

Taking up Naugatuck’s old beat– which her experienced crew was familiar with– Morrill was stationed at Wilmington, North Carolina, for her first homeport.

In March 1891, our new cutter performed a then novel inland passage, a military experiment, making it the 155 miles from Charleston, South Carolina, to Fernandina, Florida via the North Edisto, Ashley, Wadmalaw, Stono, and Amelia rivers. She did so with sometimes just a foot of water under her keel and just 30 feet of wetted width between banks as opposed to her 24-foot beam! It was often slow going, especally in tight bends, and in some stretches the charts of the river were quite bad, but via leading with a small boat ahead of her bow dropping lead to verify depth, the task was accomplished in three winding days, only running up on a mudbank once –some six miles up the Wadmalaw– and able to free herself with minor effort. At night, the cutter lay up, ablaze with electric light, proving much the attraction to the locals who came out to watch the curious “bluejackets” in the marsh.

Still, she proved, at least in theory, that a squadron of torpedo boats could run the shallow brackish and fresh waterways from Philadelphia to Fernandina– save for a short break between Moorehead City, North Carolina, and Bulls Bay, South Carolina– keeping well hidden from a European blockading squadron.

With Morrill’s officers dutifully updating their chart and leaving range stakes behind them, it was deemed that, with a little minor dredging here and there, a blue water vessel under 175 feet overall drawing less than 11 feet could make the run from Philly to Florida almost completely inland, enabling dispersed operations of torpedo boat squadrons which could run out from river mouths and shoreline bays to strike enemy battlelines then retreat into their havens.

It should be noted that the USS Cushing (Torpedo Boat #1), which entered service in 1890, was only 140 feet overall with a draft of just less than five feet, and it was only when Farragut (TB-11) joined the fleet in 1899 that American torpedo boats stretched longer than 175 feet.

While the river haven tactic wasn’t actively pursued much further in the U.S., Morrill’s marsh cruise did help lay the way for today’s Intracoastal Waterway, which has rambled 3,000 miles from Boston to Brownsville since 1949 and is key for the movement of commerce in the country today.

Anyway, speaking of Fernandina, Florida, and points south, in early January 1895, Cuban exile leader Jose Marti completed preparations in the area to attempt to ignite a revolt against Spanish colonial despotism in his homeland. He and his followers purchased three small ships, the Amadis, Baracoa, and Lagonda, then outfitted them to carry his freedom fighters and supplies to Cuba. These were foiled by the Treasury Department, which had been ordered to southern Florida to abort such filibuster activities, with Morrill helping with the seizure of Lagonda at Fernandina directly.

From 1895 to 1898, cutters, including our Morrill, Boutwell, Colfax, Forward, McLane, and Winona, patrolled the Straits of Florida to enforce neutrality laws amid attempts to launch illegal expeditions to Cuba. According to Commandant Capt. Charles F. Shoemaker, these efforts required constant vigilance. One tug, Dauntless, was seized by cutters no less than three times. The cutters seized seven ships (besides Dauntless, including all three of Marti’s), detained 12 suspected violators, and disrupted two organized filibustering plots (Marti’s and one by Cuba Gen. Enrique Collazo) before the USS Maine mysteriously exploded in Havana harbor in February 1898.

Remember the Maine!

With the war drum beating, Morrill and her fellow cutters were soon mobilized a full month before war was declared by Congress on 25 April 1898.

On 24 March, President McKinley ordered Morrill, along with the cutters Gresham (206 foot), Manning (206 foot), Windom (170 foot), Woodbury (138 foot), Hamilton (133 foot), Hudson (94 foot), Guthrie (85 foot) and Calumet (95 foot), “with their officers and crews, be placed under the direction of the Secretary of the Navy, and cooperate with the Navy, until further orders…”

Before the conflict was over, 13 revenue cutters were transferred to naval service, staffed by 98 officers and 562 enlisted RCS men. Eight would serve at sea with the North Atlantic Squadron, one (McCulloch) famously fought with Dewey in the Philippines, and four patrolled the U.S. West Coast.

Morrill proceeded to Norfolk Navy Yard and was gently made ready for war, largely via adding at least one extra deck gun, which had varied widely in reports from a second 6-pounder to a gun as large as a 6-incher! Her crew was boosted to nine officers (including a surgeon) and 47 enlisted, allowing for an extra gun crew and ammo handlers.

Morrill’s wardroom during the Spanish-American War:

  • Captain Horatio Davis Smith, commanding
  • First Lieutenant John Cassin Cantwell, executive
  • Second Lieutenant F.A. Levis, navigator
  • Second Lieutenant C.S. Craig
  • Third Lieutenant Henry G. Fisher
  • Chief Engineer E.P. Webber
  • First Assistant Engineer William Robinson
  • Second Assistant Engineer F.G. Snyder
  • Surgeon J. Spencer Hough

USRC Morrill at the Norfolk Navy Yard, Portsmouth, Virginia, 22 April 1898. Photograph from the Bureau of Ships Collection in the U.S. National Archives. 19-N-19-21-10

Morrill and her fellow cutters Hudson, Hamilton, and Windom would join the 1st division of the North Atlantic Squadron under the bewhiskered Commodore John Adams Howell (USNA, 1858, best known to history for his early locomotive torpedo). A veteran of the Battle of Mobile Bay, Howell’s division included his flag, the 4,800-ton USS San Francisco I (Cruiser No. 5), the cruiser Montgomery (C-9), four monitors, and 15~ gunboats, with many of the latter being armed yachts quickly converted.

Morrill linked up with the three-masted 204-foot Annapolis-class gunboat USS Vicksburg (PG-11) for the first time on 31 March at Hampton Roads. The two would become partners off Havana, with Vicksburg’s logs mentioning our cutter at least 31 times between then and 14 August. The two worked in conjunction with Vicksburg’s sistership Annapolis, the 275-foot armed yacht USS Mayflower (PY-1), and the plucky 88-foot armed tug USS Tecumseh (YT-24, ex-Edward Luckenbach).

On 24 April 1898, the up-armed Morrill, Hudson, and Hamilton, bound for Howell’s “Mosquito Fleet,” passed through Hampton Roads and, after asking formal permission of the Commodore, proceeded to Key West. From that point, they joined the Navy ships of the Cuban blockading fleet.

After delivering dispatches to the flagship USS New York, Morrill joined the blockade station 5 miles west of the Havana entrance on 5 May and soon captured the Spanish schooner Orienta. One of 25 seized Spanish merchantmen sold as prizes at Key West on 21 June 1898, Orienta must have been either very small or in poor condition, or both, as the vessel, including cargo and equipment, only brought $350 at auction (about $12K when adjusted for inflation) — the lowest of all 25.

It was off Havana that Vicksburg and Morrill became targets for Spanish coastal batteries mounting heavy 10- and 12-inch German pieces for about 20 minutes, with Smith noting in his official report, “came very close” and damaged the bridge with a fragment of shrapnel.

As chronicled in Our War with Spain for Cuba’s Freedom by Trumbull White:

The Spanish set a trap one day during the blockade. The wily Spaniards arranged a trap to send a couple of our ships to the bottom. A small schooner was sent out from Havana harbor to draw some of the Americans into the ambuscade. The ruse worked like a charm. The Vicksburg and the Morrill, in the heat of the chase and in their contempt for Spanish gunnery, walked straight into the trap that had been set for them. Had the Spaniards possessed their souls in patience but five minutes longer, not even their bad gun practice would have saved our ships, and two more of our vessels would lie at the bottom within two lengths of the wreck of the ill-starred Maine.

Friday evening, the Vicksburg and the Morrill, cruising to the west of Morro Castle, were fired on by the big guns of the Cojimar batteries. Two shots were fired at the Vicksburg, and one at the Morrill. Both fell short, and both vessels, without returning the fire, steamed out of range. It would have been folly to have done otherwise. But this time the Spaniards had better luck. The schooner they had sent out before daylight ran off to the eastward, hugging the shore, with the wind on her starboard quarter. About three miles east of the entrance to the harbor, she came over on the port tack. A light haze fringed the horizon, and she was not discovered until three miles offshore, when the Mayflower made her out and signaled the Morrill and Vicksburg.

Captain Smith, of the Morrill, and Commander Lilly, of the Vicksburg, immediately slapped on all steam and started in pursuit. The schooner instantly put about and ran for Morro Castle before the wind. By doing so, she would, according to the well-conceived Spanish plot, lead the two American warships directly under the guns of the Santa Clara batteries. These works are a short mile west of Morro and are a part of the defenses of the harbor. There are two batteries, one at the shore, which has been recently thrown up, of sand and mortar, with wide embrasures for eight-inch guns, and the other on the crest of the rocky eminence which juts out into the water of the gulf at the point.

The upper battery mounts modern 10-inch and 12-inch Krupp guns behind a six-foot stone parapet, in front of which are twenty feet of earthwork and a belting of railroad iron. This battery is considered the most formidable of Havana’s defenses, except Morro Castle. It is masked and has not been absolutely located by the American warships. It is probably due to the fact that the Spanish did not desire to expose its position that the Vicksburg and Morrill are now afloat.

The Morrill and Vicksburg were about six miles from the schooner when the chase began. They steamed after her at full speed, the Morrill leading until within a mile and a half of the Santa Clara batteries. Commander Smith, of the Vicksburg, was the first to realize the danger into which the reckless pursuit had led them. He concluded it was time to haul off and sent a shot across the bow of the schooner.

The Spanish skipper instantly brought his vessel about, but while she was still rolling in the trough of the sea, with her sails flapping, an 8-inch shrapnel shell came hurtling through the air from the water battery, a mile and a half away. It passed over the Morrill between the pilothouse and the smokestack and exploded less than fifty feet on the port quarter. The small shot rattled against her side. It was a close call.

Two more shots followed in quick succession, both shrapnel. One burst close under the starboard quarter, filling the engine room with the smoke of the explosion of the shell, and the other, like the first, passed over and exploded just beyond.

The Spanish gunners had the range, and their time fuses were accurately set. The crews of both ships were at their guns. Lieutenant Craig, who was in charge of the bow 4-inch rapid-fire gun of the Morrill, asked for and obtained permission to return fire. At the first shot, the Vicksburg, which was in the wake of the Morrill, slightly in-shore, sheared off and passed to windward under the Morrill’s stern.

In the meantime, Captain Smith also put his helm to port, and was none too soon, for as the Morrill stood off, a solid 8-inch shot grazed her starboard quarter and kicked up tons of water as it struck a wave 100 yards beyond. Captain Smith said afterward that this was undoubtedly an 8-inch armor-piercing projectile, and that it would have passed through the Morrill’s boilers had he not changed his course in the nick of time.

All the guns of the water battery were now at work. One of them cut the Jacob’s ladder of the Vicksburg adrift, and another carried away a portion of the rigging. As the Morrill and the Vicksburg steamed away, their aft guns were used, but only a few shots were fired. The Morrill’s 6-inch gun was elevated for 4,000 yards and struck the earthworks repeatedly. The Vicksburg fired but three shots from her 6-pounder.

The Spaniards continued to fire shot and shell for twenty minutes, but the shots were ineffective. Some of them were so wild that they roused the American “Jackies” to jeers. The Spaniards only ceased firing when the Morrill and Vicksburg were completely out of range.

If all the Spanish gunners had been suffering from strabismus, their practice could not have been worse. But the officers of both the Morrill and Vicksburg frankly admit their own recklessness and the narrow escape of their vessels from destruction. They are firmly convinced that the pursuit of the schooner was a neatly planned trick, which almost proved successful.

If any one of the shots had struck the thin skin of either vessel, it would have offered no more resistance than a piece of paper to a rifle ball.

The accurate range of the first few shots is accounted for by the fact that the Spanish officers had ample time to make observations. The bearings of the two vessels were probably taken with a range-finder at the Santa Clara battery, and, as this battery is probably connected by wire with Morro, they were able to take bearings from both points, and by laborious calculations, they fixed the positions of the vessels pretty accurately. With such an opportunity for observation, it would have been no great trick for an American gunner to drop a shell down the smokestack of a vessel.

As soon as the ships sheered off after the first fire, the Spanish gunners lost the range, and their practice became ludicrous. If they had waited five minutes longer before opening fire, Captain Smith says it would have been well-nigh impossible to have missed the target.

By 28 May, Morrill was assigned duty as a guard ship at Tampa, which grew tense a week later when three Spanish warships were said to be closing on the roadstead there. She remained in the greater Tampa area until early August, when she was ordered to rejoin the blockade off Matanzas on the 11th, one that she was released from on the 14th with the cessation of hostilities.

She was then ordered to tow the small torpedo boat USS Ericsson back to Norfolk, where she arrived on the 21st. Morrill would be held there for another month on naval orders in reserve, just in case she was needed for further war service. She had suffered no casualties during the war and only very minor damage.

In addition to Orienta, Morrill is noted in her USCG history as also seizing the 3,364-ton French steamer, Lafayette, in conjunction with Annapolis, and the Espana, a little Spanish fishing sloop. Espana is marked as taken by the Morrill about three miles off Mariel, just after a sharp engagement. The USS Newport was close at hand at the time, and a prize crew made up from both ships brought the capture into Key West. The Espana sold at auction for $1,350 in prize money. Lafayette was later released after it was determined that she was not carrying Spanish soldiers or contraband and was permitted to continue to Havana, her declared destination.

Two of Morrill’s officers were later awarded Bronze West Indies Naval Campaign Medals under the authority of a joint resolution of Congress, approved on 3 March 1901.

White hull days

On 28 September 1898, after nearly a decade of tough service, Morrill, her extra wartime armament landed, left Norfolk for Philadelphia, to receive new boilers and undergo dry docking. Once complete, she shipped to her new homeport on the Great Lakes, replacing the larger 205-foot cutter Gresham, which had been cut in two to move to the East Coast during the SpanAm War, and the service was in no mood to bisect again to send her back.

Morrill arrived at her new home on Lake Michigan in Milwaukee on 19 November, closing out her busy year.

Later, shifting to Detroit, she would begin a very quiet time in her career, stretching some 17 years. Underway during the open shipping season, she patrolled the waters of Lakes Huron, St. Clair, Erie, and Ontario, aiding vessels in distress and enforcing navigation laws. When the ice came, she was laid up during the winter months.

Morrill became part of the service’s first Vessel Traffic Service (VTMS), established on 6 March 1896, to track the movement and anchorage of vessels and rafts in the St. Mary’s River from Point Iroquois on Lake Superior to Point Detour on Lake Huron.

Originally named the River Patrol Service, this first VTMS was comprised of the Revenue Cutter Morrell and lookout stations at Johnson’s Point, Middle Neebish Dyke, and Little Rapids Cut. The stations were connected by telegraph lines linked back to the Pittsburgh Steamship Company offices in Sault Sainte Marie. Throughout the next several years, many lookout stations were established and then closed as needs and funding levels fluctuated. At one point, there were as many as 11 active stations along the river. During the early days, lookouts communicated with passing ships by kerosene lanterns and signal flags. Often, messages were delivered to passing ships by lookouts rowing out to them in small dinghies.

USRC Morrill at a Great Lakes port, circa 1898-1917. Courtesy of Donald M. McPherson. NH 45730

An image from a dry plate negative of the freighter William E. Corey passing alongside an unidentified, white-hulled vessel at anchor, circa 1905, is almost certainly the Morrill. Library of Congress – Detroit Publishing Co. Collection LC-D4-21878

She performed lots of local community service, including providing the honor guard and salutes for Civil War monument dedications (for instance, at Two Rivers, Wisconsin, in 1900, and another at Kenosha the same summer).

The U.S. Revenue Cutter W.P. Fessenden (center), along with other vessels in the harbor at Kenosha, Wis., for the unveiling of the Soldiers Monument in Library Park on Decoration Day, May 30, 1900. The ship on the left is the steam yacht Pathfinder owned by F. W. Morgan, Chicago, Ill. On the right outboard is the U.S. Revenue Cutter Morrill, and inboard of that is the venerable U.S.S. Michigan. The photograph is part of the Louis Thiers Collection of the Kenosha History Center. It was taken by Louis Milton Thiers (1858-1950) and created from a glass plate negative.

In addition to her regular duties, she also patrolled many regattas, including the T. J. Lipton Cup regatta off Chicago, Illinois, in August of 1904.

In 1906, her cruising grounds included the waters between Niagara Falls through Lakes Erie, St. Clair, and Huron to the Straits of Mackinac.

It seems during this period that her port side was her most photogenic.

U.S. Revenue Cutter Morrill, at Detroit with her glad rags flying, likely for July 4th between 1900 and 1910. Note her boat in the water. Detroit Publishing Collection in the Library of Congress. LC-D4-34826

USRC Morrill before WWI, circa 1907, with her bow gun covered in canvas. Note the large building in the background, dressed with a Sherwin-Williams paint ad. Detroit Publishing Collection in the Library of Congress. LC-D4-22466

USRC Morrill before WWI. Note her understated bow scroll and 6-pounder. Detroit Publishing Collection in the Library of Congress. LC-D4-9016

Morrill at the Goodrich Company dock in Manitowoc, Wisconsin. Port bow view of vessel at dock near harbor entrance, with lighthouse at right in 1912. Wisconsin Maritime Museum P82-37-10-62C

Morrill, the revenue cutter Tuscarora, and eight reserve gunboats: USS Dubuque (PG-17), at the time the training ship by the Illinois Naval Militia; USS Don Juan de Austria (Wisconsin Naval Militia), USS Wolverine (Pennsylvania Naval Militia), USS Dorothea and USS Essex (Ohio Naval Militia), USS Gopher (Minnesota Naval Militia), USS Hawk (Naval Militia of New York) and USS Yantic of the Michigan Naval Militia, were the featured guests of the Chicago Yacht Club’s August 10-17, 1912 Great Naval Pageant which included 400 swabs from the training station at Lake Bluff, fireworks, and the conclusion of a cruise of 2,000 motorboats carrying 15,000 passengers from the Central Plain and inland rivers to Chicago to “rediscover” Lake Michigan.

As the club had 10 bona fide warships on hand, a mock battle was staged with large yachts, armed with saluting cannons, fleshing out the battle line.

As for the naval pageant, preparations were underway to defend Chicago against an August 10 naval attack. Under the command of the gunboat Dubuque, the attacking fleet of the Hawk, Gopher, Don Juan de Austria, and the revenue cutter Morrill from Lake Erie would be pitted against the Tuscarora, Yantic, Wolverine, Dorothea, and Essex. No part of Chicago, from Michigan Avenue to Oak Park, would be safe from the 4” guns trained on the City which could drop 4” shells with precision anywhere within the City limits. Hydroplanes traveling 40 mph were also to be used to determine whether this type of craft would be of assistance in warfare.

From 12-14 September 1912, Morrill and Dubuque patrolled the course of the speedboat races held by the Motor Club of Buffalo in the Niagara River.

Morrill and USS Dubuque (PG-17) at the Niagara motor boat races in September 1912. Edward J. Dowling Collection, University of Detroit-Mercy

Morrill at the opening of the Livingstone Channel in the Detroit River on October 19, 1912. Edward J. Dowling Collection, University of Detroit-Mercy

She also clocked in on more sobering duties. In the late summer of 1913, she found the lost 6,322-ton ore carrier SS Charles S. Price turned turtle, 13 miles northeast of Port Huron, Michigan, “taking every witness with her.”

The Kaiser to St. Helena!

On 4 August 1914, Morrill, along with other cutters, was ordered to “observe neutrality laws” after the outbreak of the Great War in Europe. This kicked into overdrive when the service, now part of the U.S. Coast Guard, was transferred to the Navy on 6 April 1917 with the country’s entry into the war.

Morrill was soon pulled from her familiar Great Lakes home in Detroit to patrol the Atlantic coast for German submarines out of Philadelphia with the 4th Naval District.

Leaving Detroit on 10 November 1917, she called at Quebec City on her way out and found herself in crowded Halifax on the afternoon of 5 December, anchoring near Dartmouth Cove to take on fuel and water.

Being jammed out of the main roadway saved her from destruction the next morning, with the cutter and her crew spending a fortnight in a very different Halifax, rendering aid and assistance.

Halifax explosion, with HMS Highflyer shown in the channel, via the Halifax Naval Museum

As detailed by the NHHC in Morrill’s DANFS entry:

Just after 0800, 6 December, the old French Line freighter Mont Blanc, carrying a full cargo of bulk explosives, was involved in a collision with the Norwegian steamship Iona in the Narrows of Halifax Harbor. A fire broke out on Mont Blanc, and at 0905, the ship and cargo exploded in a tremendous blast that shook all of Halifax.

The most reliable casualty figures list 1,635 persons killed and 9,000 injured in the tragedy. Sixteen hundred buildings were destroyed, and nearly 12,000 more within an area of 16 miles were severely damaged. Property damage was estimated at $35 million.

Morrill, not seriously damaged, turned her attention to the needs ashore. A rescue and assistance party under 2d Lt. H. G. Hemingway rendered valuable aid while the cutter stood by to tow other craft from the danger zone.

Morrill departed Halifax on 18 December. Her services had come to the attention of Sir Cecil Spring Rice, the British Ambassador to the United States, in a letter dated 9 January 1918, Josephus Daniels, Secretary of the Navy, noted that Morrill, “though considerably damaged by the violent explosion of munitions on another ship, was the first to render assistance to the distressed inhabitants of the stricken city.”

Morrill in Navy service, photographed during World War I. NH 45729

The cutter-turned-gunboat would remain part of the 4th Naval District throughout 1918 and well into 1919, retaining her prewar skipper, Capt.(T) George E. Wilcox, USCG.

This notably included responding to the tanker SS Herbert L Pratt, which struck a mine laid by U-151 off Cape Henlopen in June 1918.

SS Herbert L. Pratt (American tanker, 1918) under salvage after striking a mine off Cape Henlopen, southeast of Lewes, Delaware, on 3 June 1918. Note the tug alongside. This ship later served as USS Herbert L. Pratt (ID # 2339). U.S. History and Heritage Command Photograph NH 14

USS SC-71 and USS SP-544 (ex-yacht Sea Gull) tied up with another Section Patrol boat at the Cape May Naval Base, Sewells Point, New Jersey, circa 1918. The ship in the background is a Coast Guard Cutter, probably USCGC Morrill. A Curtiss HS-2L seaplane is taxiing by. NH 42452

Morrill in dry dock at Camden, New Jersey, in December 1918. Courtesy of D.M. McPherson, 1974. NH 79741

Back to a changing Coast Guard

After 21 months under Navy orders, Morrill returned to USCG duties and was reassigned to the Lakes Division on 28 August 1919.

The two-time warrior, back on her old Detroit station, resumed a quiet life of patrolling regatta, saving lives, and interdicting smuggling– the latter a task grown more common after the Volstead Act took effect in 1920 and Motown became a hotbed of bootlegging from Canada.

Morrill, 1921, Janes, showing her with two 6-pounders and assigned to Detroit

In October 1925, she was reassigned to Boston to serve as a mothership for small fast picket boats attempting to keep “Rum Row” under control just off Cape Cod. It was on the way to her new station that, while near Shelbourne, Nova Scotia, one of her whaleboats with 10 enlisted aboard overturned in the cold water while returning to the cutter at night from liberty ashore. Tragically, nine of them perished, one of the USCG’s worst peacetime losses of life. The bodies were later recovered and brought back to Boston by the cutter Tampa for proper burial.

Morrill would again suffer at the hands of the sea in November 1926 when she sliced in two the George O. Knowles Wharf in Provincetown, at the northern tip of Cape Cod, during a storm, causing $100,000 worth of damage ashore and leaving the cutter aground.

Via the Scrapbooks of Althea Boxell, Provincetown History Preservation Project.

Via the Scrapbooks of Althea Boxell, Provincetown History Preservation Project.

Via the Scrapbooks of Althea Boxell, Provincetown History Preservation Project.

Via the Scrapbooks of Althea Boxell, Provincetown History Preservation Project.

Pulled off the shore at Provincetown, and was soon back to work. In April 1927, she came to the rescue of the grounded schooner Etta Burns, which turned out to be a rumrunner with 500 cases of booze aboard.

Morrill saved the crew– then put them in shackles.

With new 165 and 240-foot cutters on the way, Morrill was decommissioned at Boston on 19 October 1928, completing an almost 40-year career.

She was sold to the Deepwater Fishing and Exploration Corp. (Antonio De Domenico) of New York City for the princely sum of $7,100. Renamed Evangeline, it doesn’t seem she saw much commercial use as the former cutter burned to the waterline at Rockway, Long Island, on 30 July 1930.

Epilogue

Few relics of Morrill remain. The USCG chose not to name another cutter after her, despite her honorable record, including service in two wars. Her plans and logbooks are in the National Archives, although not digitized.

Morrill’s SpanAm War skipper, Horatio Davis Smith, extensively documented voyages of various cutters, including the cutter Golden Gate doing “good service” during the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and transporting President Taft across the bay in 1909, and the cutter McCullough being the first to pass through the Suez Canal. He retired and later wrote an early history of the Revenue Marine Service. He passed in Massachusetts in 1918, aged 73.

Her Great War skipper, George E. Wilcox, went on to command the Coast Guard destroyer Downes out of New London– one of 31 destroyers that formed the Coast Guard Destroyer Force during the Rum War– and was head of the service’s Personnel Bureau when he passed in 1931, aged 50. He is buried at Arlington.

Several young officers served aboard our cutter who went on to make their mark on history. Besides the above-mentioned Godfrey Cardin— who led 1,400 men (fully one quarter of the mobilized service!) as the Captain of the Port of New York during the Great War, future admirals Joseph Francis Farley (a later USCG Commandant) and Detlef Frederick Argentine de Otte— a mustang who enlisted in the cutter service as a seaman in 1886 and retired in 1931 as one of just sixteen Commodores (later promoted to RADM on the retired list) in the history of the Coast Guard.

Morrill’s third lieutenant during the Mont Blanc disaster in Halifax, Henry G. Hemingway, later served as the gunnery officer aboard the USS San Diego in 1918 and survived the mining of that cruiser by the U-156. He went on to command the cutter Snohomish in 1923 during a search-and-rescue case off Port Angeles that defied belief and earned him the Gold Lifesaving Medal for his actions in saving the entire crew of the SS Nika during a gale.

Nicknamed “Soo Traffic,” the U.S. Coast Guard Vessel Traffic Service St. Marys River carries the lineage of the old River Patrol Service, which Morrill joined in 1898, and is still in operation after almost 130 years. They logged some 61,532 vessels, including ferries, tour boats, tankers, and freighters, as they transited through the St. Marys River in 2010.

Thanks for reading!

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday) 19 February 2026: Plywood Warrior

Here at LSOZI, we take a break every Wednesday to explore the old steam/diesel navies of the 1833-1954 period, profiling a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places.- Christopher Eger

If you enjoy my always ad-free Warship Wednesday content, you can support it by buying me a cup of joe at https://buymeacoffee.com/lsozi As Henk says: “Warship Coffee – no sugar, just a pinch of salt!”

Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday) 19 February 2026: Plywood Warrior

Photo by Camera Operator JO1 Joe Gawlowicz, National Archives Identifier 6465113, Agency-Assigned Identifier DNSC9108119, Local Identifier, 330-CFD-DN-SC-91-08119

Above we see the plucky Korean War-era 173-foot Acme-class ocean-going minesweeper leader USS Adroit (MSO-509) underway during mine-clearing operations in the Gulf during Operation Desert Storm in February 1991, flag flying, with Zodiacs, Otters, and paravanes ready, as Bluejackets man the .50s.

Some 35 years ago this week, the little 34-year-old Adroit would come to the urgent assistance of the top-of-the-line Aeigis cruiser USS Princeton (CG-59), which found herself in the midst of an Iraqi minefield in the worst way imaginable.

Adroit came to work– as she always had.

The Agiles & Acmes

With the Navy’s hard-earned lessons in mine warfare in WWII (more than 70 USN ships sunk by mines) and Korea (five sunk: USS Magpie, Pirate, Pledge, Sarsi and Partridge), the brass in the early 1950s decided to design and build a new class of advanced ocean-going but shallow draft minesweepers to augment and eventually replace the flotillas of 1940s-built steel-hulled 221-foot Auk-class and 184-foot Admirable class minebusters.

The new design, a handy 850-tonner, was shorter than either previous classes, running just 172 feet overall. Beamy at 35 feet, they could operate in as little as 10 feet of seawater.

Their shallow draft (10 feet in seawater) made them ideal for getting around littorals as well as going to some out-of-the-way locales that rarely see Naval vessels. USS Leader (MSO-490) and Excel (MSO 439) became the first U.S. warships ever to visit the Cambodian capital of Phnom Penh when they completed the 180-mile transit up the Mekong River on 27 August 1961, a feat not repeated until 2007. USS Vital (MSO-474) ascended the Mississippi River in May 1967 to participate in the Cotton Carnival at Memphis, Tennessee.

Whereas the Auks and Admiralbles were outfitted as PCs or DEs, complete with 3″/50s, a decent AAA battery, and lots of depth charges and even Hedgehog ASW devices, the Agiles and Acmes were almost unarmed. Their design allowed for a single 40mm L60 Bofors forward and four .50 cals with a small arms locker accessible via the captain’s stateroom. Less steel and all that. Plus, it was thought that the Navy had enough DEs and DDs to not need minesweepers to clock in to bust subs, escort convoys, and shoot down planes.

A very clean Luders-built USS Agile (MSO-421) likely soon after her 1956 commissioning. Note the black canvas-topped flying bridge, which gave it a greenhouse effect, and was soon changed to white/tan. L45-02.05.02

A close-up of the above, showing her original 40mm. Most of the MSOs landed these by the 1970s.

Plans for the USS Lucid (MSO-458), Agile class, post 1969 moderization, with a piggyback .50 cal/81mm mortar replacing the 40mm mount due to the larger size of the SQQ-14 sonar, which we’ll get into later.

As one would expect, due to their role, these new minesweepers, the Agiles, were to be wooden-hulled (not steel like Auk and Admirable), with even non-ferrous steel used in their four (often cranky) Packard 760shp V-16 ID1700 diesel engines– a type also used in the new coastal sweepers (MSCs). Some of the class were later given nonmagnetic General Motors engines to replace especially troublesome Packards. Electrical power for the ship came from a Packard V-8 240kw ship’s service generator, while the mine hammers and winches used two GM 6-71s (one 100kw, the other 60kw).

To differentiate them from the AM-hull numbered Auks and Admirable, the new class was reclassified to the new MSO (Minesweeper, Ocean, Non-Magnetic) in 1955. Bronze and stainless (non-magnetic) steel fittings, with automatic degaussing, were fitted, as well as electrical insulators in internal piping, lifelines, and stays.

Their construction at the time was novel, with 90 percent of the completed ship– including the keel, frame, decking, and rudder– being made from laminated oak and fir “sandwiches” with the biggest piece of continuous wood being 16-foot long 7/8-inch thick oak planks.

The future U.S. Navy minesweeper Agile (MSO-421) under construction at Luders Marine Construction Co., Stamford, Connecticut, on 13 September 1954. National Archives Identifier: 6932482.

From a July 1953 Popular Mechanics article on the subject:

They were very maneuverable, due to controllable pitch propellers– one of the earliest CRP installations in the Navy– and the class leader would be appropriately named USS Agile.

They were made to carry the new AN/UQS-1 mine-locating sonar, developed and evaluated in the early 1950s by the Navy’s Mine Defense Laboratory in Panama City. This 100 kHz short-range high-definition mine location sonar featured a 1.0 ms pulse and 2.0º horizontal resolution, allowing it to detect bottom mines (most of the time) at ranges up to a few hundred yards during tests. While that sounds primitive now, it was cutting-edge for the time and would be the primary sonar of these boats throughout the 1950s and well into the 1960s (some for longer than that). A SPS-53 surface search radar was on her mast.

UQS-1 mine-locating sonar panel is currently at the Museum of Man in the Sea in Panama City. Designed to locate mines, the type showed “poor resolution and could not classify mines in most waters.” Photo by Chris Eger

Thus equipped, they could mechanically sweep moored mines with Oropesa (“O” Type) gear, magnetic mines with a magnetic “Tail” supplied by three 2500 ampere mine sweeping generators, and acoustic mines by using Mk4 (V) and Mk 5 magnetic as well as Mk6 (B) acoustic hammers. Two giant new XMAP pressure sweeping caissons could be towed, a funky array that was only in use for eight years.

The 53 Agiles, at $3.5 million a pop, were built out rapidly by 1958 at 14 yards around the country (Luders, Bellingham, Boward, Burger, Martinac, Higgins, Hiltebrant, etc.) that specialized in wooden vessels– although two were built at Newport Naval Shipyard. In addition to this, 15 were built for France, four for Portugal, six for Belgium, two for Norway, one for Uruguay, four for Italy, and six for the Netherlands. The design was truly an international best-seller, and in some cases, the last hurrah for several of these small wooden boat yards.

In 1954, the U.S. still had 57 Admirables and 59 Auks on the Navy List– even after giving away dozens to allies and reclassing others to roles such as survey and torpedo research. This soon changed as the Agiles entered the fleet. By 1967, only 28 Auks and 11 Admirable remained– and they were all in the Reserve Fleet.

But what of the Acme class?

The secret to these four follow-on vessels (Acme, Adroit, Advance, and Affray) was that they were very close copies of the Agiles, listed officially as being a foot longer and 30 tons heavier. They were also fitted with (austere) flagship facilities to operate as minesweeper flotilla leaders with a commodore aboard if needed, controlling a four-ship Mine Division of 300~ men. They also had slightly longer legs, capable of carrying 50 tons of fuel rather than the 46 on the Agiles, which gave them a nominal range of 3,000nm rather than 2,400 in the earlier ships.

The four-pack was built side-by-side at Boothbay Harbor, Maine, by Frank L. Sample, Jr., Inc., between November 1954 and December 1958.

USS Affray, being built at Boothbay by Frank L. Sample, Jr., Inc. Ship was launched in 1956

The Sample yard had previously built a dozen 278-ton YMS coastal minesweepers for the Navy during WWII, as well as three 390-ton MSCs for the French in 1953, so at least they had experience.

Acme class, 1967 Janes

Furthering the wooden-hulled MSO flotilla leader concept, after the Acmes, the Navy also ordered three larger (191-foot, 963-ton) Ability class sweepers from Petersen in Wisconsin as part of the 1955 Program.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves.

Meet Adroit

Our subject is at least the third such warship in U.S. Navy service, with the first being a 147-foot steam yacht taken up from service in 1917. Added to the Naval List as USS Adroit (SP-248), but never seeing active service as she was “found to be highly unseaworthy and of extremely short cruising range,” she was returned to her owner with a “thanks, anyway” in April 1918.

The second Adroit, and first commissioned by the Navy, was the class leader of a group of 18 173-foot PC-461-class submarine chasers that were completed, with minor modifications, as minesweepers. As such, USS Adroit (AM-82) entered service in 1942 and began operations late that year with Destroyer Squadron 12 on antisubmarine patrols off Noumea.

USS Adroit (AM-82), August 1942, at builder’s yard: Commercial Iron Works, Portland, Oregon. 19-N-36133

This WWII-era Adroit escorted convoys to Guadalcanal, Espiritu Santo and Efate, New Hebrides; Noumea, New Caledonia; Auckland, New Zealand; Tarawa, Gilbert Islands; and Manus, Admiralty Islands before her name was canceled and she was designated a sub-chaser proper, dubbed simply, PC-1586. She earned a single battle star, was decommissioned three months after VJ-Day, and was sold for scrap in 1948.

Our subject, the third USS Adroit, was laid down at Frank Sample’s on 18 November 1954, launched 20 August 1955, and commissioned 4 March 1957, one of the last of the Navy’s “plywood warriors.”

Her first skipper was LCDR Joseph G. Nemetz, USN, a WWII veteran and career officer.

18 June 1961. USS Adroit (MSO-509) underway during task force exercises. You wouldn’t know to look at her that she could only make 14 knots in a calm sea with all four diesels wide open and a clean hull! USN 1056262

Cold War service

Post shakedown and availibilty, Adroit spent nearly two decades in the active Atlantic Fleet Mine Force (MINELANT), operating in a series of excercises and training evolutions based out of Charleston while also spending stints at the disposal of the Naval School of Mine Warfare (co-located in Charleston) and the Mine Lab in Pensacola to both train eager new officers and ratings and test experimental new gear.

She likewise frequently served as the flagship for MineDiv 44 (and, after 1971, MineDiv 121) with an embarked commodore aboard.

On the small MSOs, life was different, as noted in ‘Damn the Torpedoes, Naval Mine Countermeasures, 1777-1991.”

For young officers and enlisted men in the late 1950s and early 1960s, assignment to the new MCM force provided an unusual experience in both seamanship and leadership. Command came early, and the career advancement possible with MCM ship command enticed some of the most promising graduates of the destroyer force schools into the new mine force for at least one command tour. Young lieutenants obtained command of MSCs; lieutenants and lieutenant commanders captained MSOs; ensigns served early tours as department heads; and lieutenants (junior grade) served as executive officers. Senior enlisted men who commanded MSBs and smaller vessels often advanced into the MCM officer community through such experience.

Because the establishment of minesweeping divisions, squadrons, and flotillas provided MCM billets for commanders and captains, and because of the variety of MCM vessels, shore station assignments, and missions, it was actually possible for a brief time for an officer or an enlisted man to rise within the mine force to the rank of captain.

Everything that had to be done on a big ship also had to be done on a small one, and the expanded MCM force became a hands-on training school for a whole generation of naval officers who exercised command at an early age. Officers assigned to the MSCs and MSOs from the active duty destroyer force sometimes arrived with little or no training in mine warfare and began operating immediately. Junior officers, many of them ensigns right out of school, often had good technical training from the mine warfare school but lacked basic shipboard experience. Well-trained enlisted men, both active duty and reserves, made up the core of the MCM force and usually taught their officers the essentials of minesweeping and hunting on the spot.

There were, of course, lots of exceptions to Adroit’s peacetime minework.

She made a trio of tense Sixth Fleet deployments to the Mediterranean: May-October 1958, 27 September 1961–March 1962, and 15 June–8 November 1965, often calling at some out-of-the-way ports due to her small size.

Adroit loaded ammo and helped guard ports in the Norfolk and Hampton Roads area during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

She clocked in to support the space program in 1963 (Mercury-Atlas 9 “Faith 7”) and 1972 (Apollo 17 “America/Challenger”).

Adroit’s advanced sonar proved key while searching for “lost USAF equipment” off the Bahamas in 1963, a missing general aviation aircraft off the Florida Keys in 1969, a lost LCU near Onslow Beach in 1970, a USN Kaman S2F Seasprite (BuNo. 149745) with lost aircrew aboard off Norfolk in 1975, worked with Naval Underwater Systems Command to locate and retrieve a valuable piece of underwater equipment” off the East Coast in 1976; recovered from 110 feet, a brand-new USN F-14A Tomcat (BuNo 160674) ditched off Shinnecock, New York in 1981 (without loss) and discovered thouroughly wrecked by Adroit in 160 feet, and an uncessceful search for a lost Marine CH-46 Sea Knight in the vicinity of Chesapeake Light in 1983. She made up for the latter by finding downed aircraft off the North Carolina coast in 1985. Hey, 4:5 on missing aircraft isn’t bad.

She was also involved in attempts to rescue those at peril on the sea, including roaming the Florida Strait after the mysterious disappearance of the tanker SS Marine Sulphur Queen, lost between  Beaumont, Texas, and Norfolk in 1963. That ship and the 39 souls aboard are still unaccounted for. She made a similarly fruitless search for the six men aboard the motor towing vessel Marjorie McCallister, which was lost battling heavy seas approximately off Cape Lookout in 1969.

A modernization overhaul at Detyens (14 March–26 August 1969) saw her first-generation mine sonar swapped out for the new AN/SQQ-14 variable depth sonar on a hull-retractable rod. As additional space on the foc’sle was needed for installation of the SQQ-14 cabling and the sonar lift, the WWII-era 40mm Bofors bow gun was landed for good, although a gun tub was installed, allowing a M68 20mm cannon if needed, but usually just used for an extra .50 cal.

Adroit transitioned from active duty to working naval reserve training duty in 1973, shifting homeport from Charleston to the NETC in Newport, Rhode Island, and downgrading to a half (active) crew. This brought a transfer to MineRon 121, and a five-month refit at Munro in Chelsea that added a new aqueous foam (light water) firefighting system, replaced both shafts, remodeled the mess decks, and recaulked the decks. After that, she got busy running reservists to sea for their annual active duty training and other ancillary duties alternating with assorted mine countermeasures exercises with divers and EOD dets.

Sister Affray pulled a similar downshift to become an NRF minesweeper based in Portland, Maine, at the time, leaving just Acme and Advance from the class on active duty in the Pacific.

The active ships are slightly undermanned by crews of 72 to 76 officers and enlisted men, whereas the NRF reserve training ships generally had a crew of 3 officers and 36 enlisted active Navy personnel, plus 2 officers and 29 enlisted reservists. Wartime mobilisation complement was 6 officers and 80 enlisted men for the modernized MSOs.

Acme class, 1974 Janes

Meanwhile, in the Western Pacific, 10 MSOs were part of the Seventh Fleet’s Mine Countermeasures Force (Task Force 78), led by RADM Brian McCauley, during Operation End Sweep– removing mines and airdropped Mark 36 Destructors laid by the U.S. in Haiphong Harbor in North Vietnam and other waterways in the first part of 1973. Speaking of Vietnam, Adroit’s sister Acme made three tours off Southeast Asia during the conflict, earning two battle stars while Advance earned five stars.

By 1974, as the U.S. pulled back from Vietnam, the Navy had the four Acmes (two in NRF duty), had disposed of the larger Ability class MCM flotilla leaders as well as the older Admirables and Auks (the final 29 stricken in 1972 and quickly given away), and was down to just 40 Agiles, which were approaching mid-life. Of the surviving Agiles, 10 were in active commission (MSO 433, 437, 442, 443, 445, 446, 448, 449, 456, and 490), 14 were NRF’d  (MSO 427-431, 438-441, 455, 464, 488, 489, 492), and 16 were decommissioned to the reserve fleet. For those keeping count, that is just 12 MSOs left active, 16 NRF’d, and 16 mothballed– 44 in all. The count continued to be whittled down, with Acme and Advance disposed of in 1977.

The only other seagoing MCM assets owned by the Navy at the time were 13 138-foot wooden-hulled Bluebird-class MSCs in the NRF program, the 5,800-ton mine launch-carrying USS Ozark (MCS-2), which had been laid up in 1970, the 15,000-ton Styrofoam-filled converted Liberty ship MSS-1 (“minesweeper, special”), which was also laid up, and two Cove-class 105-foot inshore minsweepers used for research. Five WWII landing ships, the USS Osage (LSV-3),  Saugus (LSV-4), Monitor (LSV-5), Orleans Parish (LST-1069), and Epping Forest (LSD-4), which were given similar conversions as Ozark to mine countermeasures support ships and designated MCS-3 through MCS-7, respectively, were all stricken and disposed of by 1974. Plans for an improved, wooden hull MSO-523-class were shelved. MCM in the Navy once again became a backwater.

Anywho, back to our ship:

In 1980, she had a great 360-degree photoshoot, likely via helicopter off Virginia while on a summer reservist cruise.

“Atlantic Ocean…An aerial port bow quarter view of the ocean nonmagnetic minesweeper USS Adroit, MSO-509.” Note her extensive use of canvas and flash white. Photographer: PH1 T.L. Alexander, USNR-TAR. 428-GX-156-KN-29890

What a great profile! “Atlantic Ocean…A starboard side view of the ocean nonmagnetic minesweeper USS Adroit, MSO-509.” Photographer: PH1 T.L. Alexander, USNR-TAR. 428-GX-156-KN-29892

“Atlantic Ocean…A starboard stern quarter view of the ocean nonmagnetic minesweeper USS Adroit, MSO-509.” 1980. Note at least three white paravanes on her stern. Photographer: PH1 T.L. Alexander, USNR-TAR. 428-GX-156-KN-29893

21 July 1983 A port beam view of the ocean minesweeper USS Adroit (MSO 509) underway in the Anacostia River after a port visit to Washington Navy Yard. Note she has what looks like a deck gun on her fore, but it is actually the SQQ-14 sonar hoist. Don S. Montgomery, USN. DN-SC-83-11900

From the same port visit to the Washington Navy Yard, moored at Pier #3 next to the fleet tug USNS Mohawk (T-ATF-170)– just a great picture for the cars alone! Don S. Montgomery, USN (Ret.). DN-ST-83-11255

During a year-long $5.5 million overhaul at Brambleton Shipyard (21 September 1987–29 August 1988), the old Packard engines were removed and replaced with new aluminum block Waukesha diesels. New sweep gear to include a pair of PAP-104 cable-guided undersea tools was added, as was accommodation for clearance divers and two Zodiac inflatables powered by 40hp outboards. She also lost her 20mm gun tub installation. She also received a Precise Integrated Shipboard System (PINS) nav system, early GPS, and began using early remotely operated vehicles (ROVs), notably Super Sea Rover.

23 July 1988. A starboard bow view of the ocean minesweeper USS Adroit (MSO 509) undergoing overhaul at the Norfolk Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Corporation’s Brambleton branch. Don S. Montgomery, USN (Ret.) DN-ST-88-08273

By this time, the Lehman/Reagan 600 Ship Navy ™ had included two new classes of mine warfare ships, the 14 224-foot fiberglass-encased wood-laminate Avenger-class MCMs featuring the advanced third-gen AN/SQQ-32 mine sonar (tied to AN/UYK-44 computers to classify and detect mines), augmented by a dozen all-fiberglass 188-foot Osprey-class coastal mine hunters (MHCs). However, the Navy had to make do with the old MSOs for a bit longer until the new ships arrived in force.

By this time, the entire Navy MCM force only had 20 modernized Korean War-era MSOs (18 Agiles, 2 Acmes) spread across both the active and the reserve fleet, 21 RH-53D helicopters, and 7 57-foot MSBs.

The first MH-53E Sea Dragon helicopters began arriving in late 1986, and USS Avenger— the first new oceangoing American minesweeper since 1958– was commissioned in 1987. Helicopter Mine Countermeasures Squadron 14 (HM-14), founded in 1978, only received its first MH-53 Sea Dragon E-model on 9 April 1989.

We finally got real mines to sweep (kinda)

The Gulf Tanker War between Saddam’s Iraq and fundamentalist Iran led to Operation Earnest Will, the first overseas deployment of U.S. mine countermeasures forces since the aftermath of the 1973 Yom Kippur War.

Shipping out for the Persian Gulf MCMGRUCO between November 1987 and March 1989 were six Agiles: USS Conquest (MSO-488), Enhance (MSO-437), Esteem (MSO-438), Fearless (MSO-442), Inflict (MSO-456), and Illusive (MSO-448).

While Adroit remained stateside– still in her modernization and post-delivery workup period– she was used to train Silver and Gold Crews replacement crews for duty in the Persian Gulf. While a caretaker crew remained on board, the Silver crew departed in February 1988 to take over the forward-deployed near-sister Fortify (MSO-446), while that ship’s Blue Crew returned from their deployment on board Inflict (MSO-456). 

Within the first 18 months of Persian Gulf minesweeping operations, the MSOs accounted for over 50 Iranian-laid Great War-designed Russian M08 moored mines, cleared three major minefields, and checked swept convoy racks throughout the Gulf. Iranian minelaying was also given a setback in the adjacent and very kinetic Operation Praying Mantis in April 1988 after the mining of the frigate USS Samuel B. Roberts, paving the way for the MSOs to head back home.

War, for real

When Saddam ran over the Kuwaiti border and claimed the country as a lost province in August 1990, the resulting Desert Shield operation kicked off in overdrive, and the Navy knew it would need some serious MCM muscle.

While the Iranians had used elderly Russian contact mines during the Tanker War which were easily tracked and defeated, the Iraqis had some very modern mines including the potbellied LUGM-145 contact mine, the new Soviet-designed UDM magnetic influence mine, the Sigeel-400, the Korean War-era Soviet KMD500 magnetic influence bottom mine with its keel-breaking 700-pound warhead, and the sneaky little Italian Manta MN-103 acoustic bottom mine.

Whereas the Earnest Will MSOs had taken months to get to the theatre back in 1987-88 (three MSOs were towed 10,000 miles by the salvage ship USS Grapple for eight weeks!), the newly commissoned USS Avenger (MCM-1) and three MSOs, our Adroit along with Agile half-sisters Impervious (MSO-449), and Leader (MSO-490), were immediately sealifted to the Persian Gulf aboad the Dutch heavy lift ship SS Super Servant III.

More than 20 Navy EOD teams were also deployed along with the MH-53E Sea Dragons of HM-14, forming USMCMG, joining Allied minesweepers from Saudi Arabia, Great Britain, and Kuwait.

14 August 1990. “A tug positions the ocean minesweeper USS Adroit (MSO-509) over the submerged deck of the Dutch heavy lift ship SS Super Servant III. The SS Super Servant III will transport Adroit and other minesweepers to the Persian Gulf in response to Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait.” JO2 Oscar Sosa. DN-ST-90-11501

5 October 1990. Baharain. “The mine countermeasures ship USS Avenger (MCM-1), the ocean minesweeper USS Adroit (MSO-509), and other vessels are positioned on the partially submerged deck of the Dutch heavy lift ship SS Super Servant III before offloading in support of Operation Desert Shield.” Photo by CDR  John Charles Roach. DN-SC-91-02584

“Inflation of Zodiac. USS Adroit and USS Avenger wait on the deck of the Dutch ship Superservant to be floated off and begin minesweeping operations. The crew in the lightweight zodiac will knock out bilge blocks and props supporting the minesweepers as they are refloated.” Painting, Watercolor on Paper; by CDR John Charles Roach; 1991; Framed Dimensions 30H X 39W. NHHC Accession #: 91-049-O.

December 1990. Deployed to the Gulf. Note her Zodiac and blacked out hull numbers. “A starboard beam view of the ocean minesweeper USS Adroit (MSO-509) underway. The Adroit and three other U.S. Navy minesweepers have been deployed to the Gulf in support of Operation Desert Shield.” PH2 Burge. DN-ST-91-03129

In January 1991, Adroit’s initial Blue crew was rotated stateside, replaced by a Silver crew from the Exploit, led by LCDR William Flemming Barns (NROTC ’75).

Beginning its task of sweeping five lines of mines east of the Kuwaiti coastline– containing some 1,270 of the devices– when Desert Storm kicked off, it was slow going for all involved. Some 35 years ago this week, the USMCMG flag, the old USS Tripoli (LPH-10), struck a LUGM, blowing a 16-by-25-foot hole in her hull and losing a third of her fuel in the process. Just three hours later, the cruiser Princeton hit another mine, this time a dreaded Manta, which almost ripped her fantail from her hull.

Impervious, Leader, and Avenger searched for additional mines in the area while Adroit carefully led the salvage tug USS Beaufort (ATS-2) through the uncharted mines toward Princeton, which took her in tow, Adroit steaming at the “Point” marking mines with flares in the dark.

As detailed by Captain E. B. Hontz, Princeton’s skipper, in a July 1991 Proceedings piece:

As the day wore on, I was concerned about drifting around in the minefield. So I made the decision to have Beaufort take us in tow since our maneuverability with one shaft at three, four, five, or even six knots was not good. Once underway, we moved slowly west with Adroit leading, searching for mines.”

The crew remained at general quarters as a precaution should we take another mine strike. [The] Beaufort continued to twist and turn, pulling us around the mines located by the Naval Re­serve ship Adroit and marked by flares. Throughout the night, Adroit continued to lay flares. Near early morning, having run out of flares, she began marking the mines with chem-lights tied together. The teamwork of the Adroit and Beaufort was superb.

I felt the life of my ship and my men were in the hands of this small minesweeper’s commanding officer and his crew. I di­rected the Adroit to stay with us. I trusted him, and I didn’t want to let him go until I was clear of the danger area. [The] Princeton was … out of the war.

“Adroit Marks the Way for Princeton,” With the use of hand flares, USS Adroit (MSO-509) marks possible mines in an effort to extract the already damaged USS Princeton (GG-59) from a minefield.  USS Beaufort (ATS-2) stands by to assist. Painting, Oil on Canvas Board; by CDR John Charles Roach; 1991; Framed Dimensions 26H X 34W NHHC Accession #: 92-007-X

“The Little Heroes. The mine sweepers Impervious (MSO-449) and Adroit (MSO-509) make all preparations for getting underway.  Shortly, these little ships will play a very important role in the northern Gulf by leading out Princeton (CG-59) and Tripoli (LPH-10), badly damaged by exploding mines.” Painting, Watercolor on Paper; by CDR John Charles Roach; 1991; Framed Dimensions 30H X 39W. NHHC Accession #: 92-007-S.

1 April 1991. Crewmen on the deck of the ocean minesweeper USS Adroit (MSO-509) stand by during mine-clearing operations following the cease-fire that ended Operation Desert Storm. Note the extensive mine stencils around her pilot house. and .50 cals at the ready. PH2 Rudy D. Pahoyo. DN-SN-93-01468

1 April 1991. A port view of the ocean minesweeper USS Adroit (MSO-509) conducting mine-clearing operations following the cease-fire that ended Operation Desert Storm. The USS Leader (MSO-490) and an MH-53E Sea Dragon helicopter are in the background. PH2 Rudy D. Pahoyo. DN-SN-93-01466

The Americans, joined by allies from around the world, continued to sweep mines and UXO across the Gulf and five Kuwaiti ports through the end of May 1991.

Their mission accomplished, Adroit, Impervious, and Leader returned on board SS Super Servant IV to Norfolk on 14 November 1991.

14 November 1991. Norfolk. The ocean minesweepers USS Impervious (MSO-449), foreground, and USS Adroit (MSO-509) and USS Leader (MSO-490), right, sit aboard the Dutch heavy lift ship SS Super Servant IV as its deck is submerged to permit minesweepers to be unloaded. The minesweepers have returned to Norfolk after being deployed for 14 months in the Persian Gulf region in support of Operation Desert Shield and Operation Desert Storm. PHAN Christopher L. Ryan. DN-ST-92-04869

14 November 1991. Norfolk. The ocean minesweeper USS Adroit (MSO-509) ties up at the pier after being unloaded from the Dutch heavy lift Super Servant 4, which carried the Adroit and two other ocean minesweepers, the USS Impervious (MSO-449) and USS Leader (MSO-490), to Norfolk from the Persian Gulf region, where the minesweepers were deployed for 14 months in support of Operation Desert Shield and Operation Desert Storm. Note the more than 50 mine stencils on her wheelhouse, a Manta ray mine stencil further aft, and at least three visible machine gun mounts and shields (sans guns). PHAN Christopher L. Ryan. DN-ST-92-04871

Decommissioned 12 December 1991– just months after guiding PrincetonAdroit was laid up at Naval Inactive Ship Maintenance Facility, Portsmouth, and struck from the Navy Register on 8 May 1992. Affray held on for another year. The last four Agiles in U.S. service were decommissioned three years later.

Sold for scrap on 15 August 1994 by DRMO to Wilmington Resources, Inc. of Wilmington, North Carolina, for $44,950, she was removed from the Reserve Fleet three days later, and her scrapping was completed by the following May. By 2000, her last remaining sister, Affray, had been scrapped as well.

Adroit had an amazing 26 skippers during her storied 34 years on active duty.

Epilogue

Adroit’s deck logs from the 1950s-70s are largely digitized and available online via the NARA. 

The Navy MSO Association (“Wooden Ships, Iron Men”) was once very vibrant, but it seems their website went offline circa 2020. The Association of Minemen (AOM) is likewise dormant. The Mine Warfare Association (MINWARA), formed in 1995, continues its legacy. albeit with fewer and fewer MSO-era mine warriors these days.

The only MSO preserved in the U.S., the Agile-class USS Lucid (MSO-458) at the Stockton Maritime Museum, also has parts salvaged from ex-USS Implicit, and ex-Pluck (MSO-464). Please visit her if you get the chance.

Lucid today

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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Warship Wednesday (on a Friday) 13 February 2026: The Russian Cruiser that Accounted for Three German ones

Here at LSOZI, we take a break every Wednesday to explore the old steam/diesel navies of the 1833-1954 period, profiling a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places.- Christopher Eger

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Warship Wednesday (on a Friday) 13 February 2026: The Russian Cruiser that Accounted for Three German ones

(Sorry for the two-day delay, boys. This was a long one!)

Above we see the fine 1st rank protected cruiser Bogatyr of the Imperial Russian Navy, in her circa 1904-05 dark green war paint, as she rests in Zolotoy Rog (Golden Horn Bay) with a burgeoning young Vladivostok sprawling in the distance.

Constructed and later dismantled in Germany, she made the Japanese admiralty howl (briefly) in 1904, then, somehow, survived that maelstrom to exact three pounds of flesh from the Kaiserliche Marine in the Great War.

The Great 1900s Russian Cruiser Rush

After that fearsome bear Tsar Alexander III passed unexpectedly in 1894 and left his woefully unprepared son, Nicky, with the autocratic throne of Holy Mother Russia, things got a bit weird. While both Alexander (who had successfully commanded a 70,000-strong force in the combat against the Ottomans in 1877-78) and his son (who had risen to the rank of colonel and commanded a cavalry squadron on summer maneuvers) were trained army officers, as Tsar, Nicky pursued a curious naval policy, one that aimed to make Russia a great power on the sea rather than a regional power capable of besting, say, the Turks or Sweden, the country’s traditional foes. The weak new Tsar was muscled into this way of thinking by a trio of professional naval officers in his family, his older uncles Alexei and Sergei Alexandrovich, and cousin “Sandro” Mikhailovich, all “big fleet” advocates.

This was abetted in no small part by Nicky’s cousin, Willy, the German Kaiser, who not only whispered about great naval power but also pointed the young Tsar’s eye away from Europe and to the Pacific, where a British-allied Japan was growing ever more powerful.

Not able to weaken its fleets in the Black Sea (against the Turks), or the Baltic (against Sweden, or, say, maybe, Germany as Russia was officially an ally of France after 1892), this required a whole new force for the Pacific. The distinct possibility of having to defend Russian overseas shipping from the British while also dispatching raiders to disrupt Britannia’s own merchant traffic was also a problem that needed solving, at least until the two countries buried the hatchet in the Anglo-Russian Convention of 1907.

All this meant modern new battleships and cruisers, destroyers and gunboats. And lots of them.

The first modern protected cruiser in Russian service was the circa 1895 French (FCM)-built Svetlana (3,682t, 331 ft oal, 21 kts, 6 x 6″/45 guns, up to 4″ of armor), followed by the three larger domestically-built Pallada/Diana- class ships (6,687t, 416 ft oal, 19 kts, 8 x 6″/45 guns, up to 6″ of armor), and two very similar ships: the American (Cramp)-built Varyag (6,500t, 425 ft oal, 23 kts, 12 x 6″/45 guns, up to 6″ of armor), and the German (Germaniawerft)-built Askold (5,900t, 434 ft oal, 23.8 kts, 12 x 6″/45 guns, up to 6″ of armor), which were built abroad simoultanously.

Russian cruiser Askold in Vladivostok

Our subject was originally a stand-alone design similar in size but slightly larger (6,645 tons, 439 feet oal) than the Varyag and Askold, while being roughly the same speed and still carrying a similar armament and armor scheme. This made her a rough equivalent to the British cruiser HMS Highflyer and the French Chateaureneau.

Meet Bogatyr

Our subject is at least the third such warship in service to the Tsar, going back to the first steam frigate built in the Russian Empire in 1836, to carry the name “Bogatyr,” which roughly translates to “hero,” common to early Russian epics.

1898 oil painting titled Bogatyrs by Russian artist Viktor Vasnetsov

Steam frigate Bogatyr by Russian maritime artist Vladimir Emyshev

The second Bogatyr was a circa 1860 spar frigate and class leader of three sisters (Varyag, Vityaz, and Askold— these names seem to keep repeating themselves!) that was key in early Russian power projection outside of Europe

Russian warships at Norfolk, Virginia, in 1877. On the left is the frigate Svetlana (launched 1858), on the right is the steam frigate Bogatyr (launched 1860). NH 60753

Our third Bogatyr, like Askold, was ordered on 5 August 1898 from Germany, but this time not from Germaniawerft. Instead, she was ordered to a design from Vulcan Stettin and laid down as Yard No. 427 on 22 December 1899.

Whereas Askold ran a very distinctive five, thin funnels, and Varyag had four, Bogatyr emulated the Pallada and Svetlana classes with three thick pipes.

Her thickest armor, some 5.5 inches, was protecting her casemate, while she still had 5 inches over her main battery turrets, as well as 3 inches in her casemates and deck. Her shell hoists and other vital systems recived at least two inches.

She shipped 765 tons of armor and had 16 watertight bulkheads. A total of 1.83 million steel rivets were used in her construction. Four Siemens dynamos provided electrical power.

She carried 16 triangular three-drum Bellville-type Normand-Sigaudy boilers in three boiler rooms in a 4-6-6 layout, pushing two VTE engines, which gave Bogatyr 19,500 shp- enough for 23 knots.

Her two VTE engines were aligned one per shaft, each ending in a 15-foot, 3-bladed prop. Carrying 1,220 tons of coal, she could steam 4,900 miles at 10 knots on a clean hull with good pipes.

Her main battery was a dozen 6″/45 Pattern 1892 French Canet guns (made under license by Obukhov and installed in Russia), with four in two twin turrets, one fore and one aft, and the other eight in broadside casemates or shielded single mounts. Her magazines carried 2,160 6-inch shells.

The Russians loved these guns and built over 500 of them, putting them on just about every cruiser and battleship they built between 1897 and 1917, then continuing to use them in coastal defense as late as the 1960s.

Bogatyr’s secondary battery was a dozen 3″/50 Pattern 1892 Canet/Obukhov deck guns with 3,600 shells to feed them, while a tertiary battery of eight QF 3-pounder (47mm) Hotchkiss and two 1-pounder 5-barreled Hotchkiss Gatling guns provided torpedo boat defense.

Note her deck structure and staggered guns

This plan shows her gun firing arcs and 16-boom torpedo net arrangement

Speaking of torpedoes, Bogatyr had five small 15-inch tubes (1 bow, 2 beam, 2 stern) and carried 12 fish in her magazines. She also had storage below deck for 35 small defensive mines.

Her complement of 17 officers, 6 officials (medical, JAG, etc.), and 551 enlisted men could provide a company-sized landing force for duty ashore, for which she carried enough Mosin rifles and marching gear to outfit, as well as two Maxim heavy machine guns and two light 37mm Baranovsky landing guns on wheeled carriages.

She carried 10 boats, including two 40-foot steam pinnacles that could carry a 37mm landing gun if needed, a 20-oared longboat, a 14-oared workboat, two 6-oared boats, and four whaleboats.

Launches on Bogatyr while ship seen arriving at Sevastopol on 18 February 1909. Also note one of her shielded 6″/45 guns on a sponson forward, with another casemated aft. 

Bogatyr launched on 17 January 1901 and spent the next 18 months fitting out.

Note her ram bow, forward torpedo tube, and Orthodox priest ready to bless the new cruiser

Bogatyr launched, clean

Bogatyr installing 6-inch turret house shields

Her first skipper, appointed 15 February 1899, was Capt. 1st Rank Alexander Fedorovich Stemman, a career officer who joined the Naval cadet corps in 1871, sailed the world on the old frigate Svetlana, fought against the Turks in 1877 on the Danube, sailed the Pacific on the spar frigate Duke of Edinburgh, commanded the destroyer Krechet, the mine cruiser Gaydamak, and the coastal defense battleship (monitor) Lava before heading to Germany to join Bogatyr’s plankowners.

In June 1902, on speed trials in the Gulf of Danzig, Bogatyr touched 23.9 knots, and at the end of July was toured at Stettin by the Kaiser himself.

Delivered to the Russian Navy in August 1902, she was immediately dispatched to the Pacific Squadron.

Bogatyr early in her career in white colonial livery. Note her ornate Tsarist eagle figurehead. NH 60718

She looked very similar in profile to the Vulcan-built Japanese armored cruiser Yakumo, which also had three funnels and two masts, and a gun arrangement of two two-gun turrets and the rest in broadside. Yakumo was gently larger, at 9,000 tons, and carried a mix of 16 8- and 6-inch guns compared to Bogatyr’s 12 6-inchers, but you get the idea.

It could be argued that the Japanese Yakumo, built 1897-1900, seen above, was the design prototype of the Bogatyr. Both ships were built in the same German yard, with Yakumo beginning construction a little over a year before the Russian ship. 

The Russian Admiralty was so taken with the design that it ordered four more or less exact copies of Bogatyr in 1900-02 from four domestic yards, two in the Baltic and two in the Black Sea: Vityaz from Galernyy Is, St. Petersburg; Oleg from the New Admiralty Yard, St. Petersburg; Kagul from the Admiralty Yard in Nikolayev (Mykolaiv) Ukraine; and Ochakov from the Lazarev Admiralty Yard in Sevastopol.

Of these, Vityaz was destroyed by fire on the stocks by fire in June 1901, but the other three started arriving in the fleet in the 1904-05 time frame.

The hull of the unfinished cruiser Vityaz after a fire. June 1901. St Petersburg

Bogatyr’s page in the 1904 Janes, with her three finished sisters. 

A “rocky” war with Japan

Units of the Russian fleet at Anchor at Vladivostok, September 1903. From left to right: Sevastopol (front, battleship, 1895-1904); Gromoboi (rear, armored cruiser, 1899-1917); Rossia (armored cruiser, 1899-1922); Persviet (battleship, 1898-1922); Bogatyr (protected cruiser, 1901-1922); Boyarin (cruiser, 1901-1904), center; Angara (transport, 1898-1923, 3 funnels, black hull); (Polotava (battleship; 1894-1923); Petropavlovsk (Russian battleship, 1894-1904); the small one-funnel black-hulled vessel in the center foreground is unidentified. Original print with McCully report MSS.-AR branch. NH 91178

Assigned to the RADM Karl Petrovich Jessen’s Vladivostok-based Separate Cruiser Detachment along with the larger armored cruisers Rossia, Gromoboi, and Rurik, and the auxiliary cruiser Lena, Bogatyr avoided the slow death of the bulk of the Russian Pacific Squadron trapped in Port Arthur when the Japanese attacked without warning in February 1904.

Vladivostok Independent Cruiser Squadron moored together at Vladivostok, 1903: Lena, Gromboi, Rurik, Bogatyr, and Rossia

In this, she earned her dark green war paint.

Russian cruiser Bogatyr Bain News Service LOC LC-B2-3196-9

Jessen’s roaming cruisers went to work haunting the Korean Strait and the waters around Japan over the next several months, sinking 10 transports and 12 schooners, as well as capturing five other merchants. This effort diverted six Japanese armored cruisers to chase them down, weakening Adm. Togo’s force off Port Arthur.

Bogatyr was with the squadron for their first kill, on 12 February, sinking the 1,800-ton merchant ship Nakanoura Maru just off the Tsugaru Strait.

1904 Japanese illustration “Sinking of the Nakanoura Maru.”

She was also there when the 220-ton Japanese coaster Haginoura Maru was sunk in the Sea of Japan off Korea on 25 April, followed by the 4,000-ton armed transport Kinshu Maru the next day.

The Kinshu Maru incident was particularly noteworthy in Japanese martial lore as, by legend, the ship’s crew surrendered and were taken off while the company of guardsmen aboard refused such dishonor, choosing instead to fire at the Russian cruisers with their rifles as the transport was sunk via torpedo. Some 51 waterlogged soldiers and sailors were later picked up by the Japanese schooner Chihaya and landed at Kobe on 30 April.

Last scene aboard the Japanese transport Kinshu Maru, depicting an Imperial Japanese Army infantryman aboard the Japanese transport Kinshu Maru firing rifles at Imperial Russian Navy cruisers that are sinking Kinshu Maru in the Sea of Japan off Gensan, Korea on 26 April 1904. Via The Russo-Japanese War, Kinkodo Publishing Co., 1904, illustration between p. 250 and p. 251.

She would be our subject’s last combat of her first war.

While creeping around in the fog on the morning of 15 May 1904, Bogatyr’s bow struck rocks at Cape Bryus in Amur Bay, sustaining considerable damage.

After being almost written off, she was finally freed on 18 June and, patched, was towed into Vladivostok for repairs.

Bogatyr remained under repair throughout the Russo-Japanese War while her skipper, Capt. Stemman was reassigned to the Vladivostok fortress. He never commanded another ship and retired from the Navy in 1911 after 40 years in uniform. He was made a VADM on the retired list for his past service. He passed in 1914, aged 58.

Bogatyr iced in at Vladivostok over the 1905-06 winter

Bogatyr’s sister Oleg likewise escaped an early demise during the conflict, eluding Togo’s bruisers at Tsushima long enough to be interned under U.S. guns in the Philippines.

A shell-riddled Oleg in Manila, 1905

Meanwhile, sister Ochakov, left in Europe with a skeleton crew, mutinied in 1905 in conjunction with the battleship Potemkin and, after a delusory shootout with ships and coastal batteries loyal to the government, suffered 52 large caliber hits and was left to burn. Rebuilt over four years, Ochakov was renamed Kagul to escape the revolutionary stain. For some unknown reason, the existing Kagul, another one of Bogatyr’s Russian-built sisters, was renamed Pamiat’ Merkuria (Memory of Mercury), at the same time, I guess, to muddy the waters as if Ochakov had never existed.

Interbellum

Once the war with Japan was over, the old Russian Pacific Squadrons (both of them) had ceased to exist, with the few hulls left afloat and in Russian custody reorganized into the rump destroyer-heavy Siberian Military Flotilla, with the more capable ships transferred back to the Baltic to make up losses there. This saw Bogatyr transfer to Kronstadt.

She became a stepping stone for several upwardly mobile professional officers, with her next five skippers (Bostrem, Vasilkovsky, Girs, Petrov-Chernyshin, and Vorozheikin) all later pinning on admiral’s stars. As a side note, Vasilkovsky was later shot by the Cheka during the Red Terror of Sevastopol in 1918, while Girs was drowned in the Gulf of Finland by the Petrograd Cheka at roughly the same time.

Still, they were no doubt happy during this quiet time in the ship’s history, and I’d bet that at the time never saw it coming.

Bogatyr arriving at Sevastopol on 18 February 1909, Romanian Elisabeta in the background

Bogatyr arriving at Sevastopol on 18 February 1909

Russian cruisers Aurora, Diana, and Bogatyr in the Baltic, 1909

Between the wars, Bogatyr participated in a series of training cruises back and forth from the Baltic to the Black Sea via the Mediterranean.

It was while in the company of the cruiser Admiral Makarov and battleships Tsarevich and Slava that news of the December 1908 Messina earthquake broke. RADM Litvinov immediately sent ships to join the international response to the disaster. Sailors from Bogatyr were among the first to come to the aid of the inhabitants of Messina buried under the rubble. In total, Russian sailors rescued about 1,000 people from the ruins.

Russian Midshipmen’s Training Detachment and USS Connecticut (Battleship # 18) off Messina to provide earthquake relief, 9 January 1909. Connecticut, in the right background with a white hull, was then in the Mediterranean during the final stages of the Great White Fleet World cruise. The Russian ships, in the center wearing grey paint, are (from right to left): armored cruiser Admiral Makarov, battleship Slava, battleship Tsararevich, and (probably) cruisers Bogatyr and Oleg. Collection of Lieutenant Commander Richard Wainwright, 1928. NH 1570

Bogatyr by Bourgault, circa 1910.

In 1911, Bogatyr picked up a Telefunken radio system. In the same overhaul, she landed her two Hotchkiss 37mm Gatling guns and two of her torpedo tubes.

Her seventh skipper, Capt. 1st Rank Evgeny Ivanovich Krinitsky assumed command in August 1912. The captain of the destroyer Silny, which distinguished herself in the defense of Port Arthur in 1904, was a solid naval hero who earned the St. George cross for the war. Wounded and only slightly recovered during his stint as a POW in Japan, he was further wounded by a mutinous sailor’s bayonet during the 1906 uprising in Kronstadt. He came to Bogatyr after command of the old minelaying cruiser Ladoga.

Bogatyr was on hand in the Baltic when French President Raymond Poincaré visited with Nicky on the eve of the Great War.

Protected Cruiser Bogatyr welcoming the French President to Kronstadt aboard the newest French Dreadnought, France, 20 July 1914

Protected Cruiser Bogatyr welcoming the French President to Kronstadt aboard the newest French Dreadnought, France, 20 July 1914

War (Again)

Part of the Russian Baltic Fleet’s 2nd Cruiser Squadron when the war began, Bogatyr, with naval hero Krinitsky still in command, was urgently dispatched on 13 August 1914, along with the cruiser Pallada, to Odenholm Island off the northern coast of modern Estonia. There, on a rock since the night before, was pinned the grounded German light cruiser SMS Magdeburg, with the destroyer V-26 busily taking off her 370-man crew.

The Magdeburg is aground. The Odenholm Island lighthouse is visible in the background. Bundesarchiv_Bild_134-B2501

Bogatyr and Rossia interrupted the scuttling, with V-26 fleeing and Magdeburg’s remaining crew setting off a scuttling charge that broke her back after an exchange of gunfire. Bogatyr captured three officers, including Capt. (ZS) Richard Habenicht, three mechanical engineers, and 51 sailors from the destroyed German cruiser, and, much more importantly, recovered a waterlogged bag full of code books and important ship’s papers from the shallows around the ship. A second signal book and a rough draft of a radiogram reporting the clash were found in Magdeburg’s radio room and proved especially useful for cryptologists in London, Paris, and Petrograd for the rest of the war.

With the Russian fleet taking the wise step to seal the Eastern Baltic shut with mines, Bogatyr received rails and chutes to carry as many as 100 M08 mines on deck.

One of her fields was credited with extensively damaging the German light cruiser SMS Augsburg off Bornholm on the night of 24–25 January 1915, and she struck a mine, knocking her out of the war for four months.

For these actions, Krinitsky received his second St. George in as many wars and was promoted to rear admiral, replaced in January 1915 by Capt. Dmitry Nikolaevich Verderevsky, former skipper of the cruiser Admiral Makarov.

Soon after the Baltic thaw, Bogatyr and her sister Oleg, working with the 8-inch gunned armored cruiser Bayan, participated in the Battle of Aland Islands on 2 July 1915, during which they drove the German light minelaying cruiser SMS Albatross onto the beach in neutral Swedish waters just off Ostergarn. Riddled with six 8-inch shells from Bayan and 20 6-inchers from Bogatyr and Oleg, Albatross was a loss, but the Russians were deprived of their trophy.

Oil painting by J Hägg. “Albatross under fire” Swedish Marinmuseum B1397

German minelayer SMS Albatross beached

Nonetheless, Bogatyr had accounted for her third German cruiser in less than a year. Her skipper, Verderevsky, earned a St. George of his own.

With the writing on the wall for mine warfare in the Baltic, Bogatyr was laid up in late 1915 for a further conversion in which she was fitted to carry as many as 150 mines. To allow for the extra space and weight, her dozen 6″/45 Canet guns, 12 3″/50s, and 8 Hotchkiss 3-pounders were replaced with an all-up battery of 16 5.1″/55 Pattern 1913 (B-7) Vickers-Obukhov guns. Likewise, her final torpedo tubes were removed.

Bogatyr was photographed fairly late in the ship’s career, at an unidentified location. From the P.A. Warneck Collection, 1981; Courtesy of B. V. Drashpil of Margate, Florida. NH 92160

After quiet service laying minefields and conducting coastal operations, Verderevsky left the ship in December 1916 to assume a rear admiral’s post over a submarine squadron at Revel, while he handed the cruiser over to Capt. Koptev Sergei Dmitrievich, who was cashiered shortly after the Revolution and would die of pneumonia in 1920, aged just 39.

Speaking of Revolutions, one of Bogatyr’s sailors, a 25-year-old boatswain’s mate by the name of Aleksandr Kondratyevich “Ales” Gurlo, took part in both of them, leading a detachment from the ship in the siege and later storming of the Winter Palace in November 1917. Continuing to fight for the Reds against Kolchak in Siberia, post-war, he became something of a poet, publishing five collections by the late 1920s.

Under a Red Star

After the Bolsheviks signed an armistice with the Germans and their allies on 15 December 1917, leading to the formal Treaty of Brest-Litovsk in March 1918, Russia’s Great War was over, replaced by a civil war that would drag on until 1924.

What this meant for the Russian Baltic Fleet was that the ships based in the frozen ports of the Baltic states and Finland, which the Germans meant to occupy, needed to be saved from capture and pulled back to Red Kronstadt. This great retreat, conducted between 16 February 1918 and 20 April 1918, was dubbed the “Ice Cruise” by the Russians and involved successfully moving 236 ships and vessels, including six battleships, five cruisers (our Bogatyr included), 59 destroyers, and 12 submarines.

Painting of the icebreaker Jermak opening a way to other ships on the Ice Voyage, seen as the chrysalis moment for the Red Navy. The fleet withdrew six battleships, 5 cruisers, 59 destroyers and torpedo boats, 12 submarines

Ensign Beno Eduardovich von Gebhard, a mysterious figure, was Bogatyr’s elected skipper during the Ice Cruise. He was dispatched shortly after for reasons lost to history.

The Red commander of the Baltic Fleet that pulled off the Ice Cruise against all odds with no coal, near mutinous crews ruled by committee, and few remaining engineers, was Capt. Alexey Mikhailovich Shchastny. Just after the fleet was solidified in Kronstadt, Shchastny was executed under orders of Trotsky for the “treason” of saving the Baltic Fleet. No heroes from the officer class were allowed.

In November 1918, Bogatyr and her sister Oleg participated in the aborted invasion of Estonia by the Red Army, at a time when most of the rest of the fleet’s sailors were rushed to the front to fight the Whites on four different fronts.

By this time, a British cruiser-destroyer force under RADM Sir Walter Cowan was operating in the Eastern Baltic. While Bogatyr never scrapped with the British, Oleg was torpedoed and sunk on the night of 17 June 1919 in a daring CMB raid on Kronstadt.

Lt Augustus Agar, in the tiny 40-foot HM CMB4, attacked and sank the Russian Cruiser Oleg in Kronstadt whilst working for British Intelligence under MI6, earning him the Victoria Cross. HM Coastal Motor Boat 4 remains today on display at the IWM.

Bogatyr’s last listed skipper was Red LT Vladimir Andreevich Kukel, who left the ship with her crew at the end of June 1919 for the Volga-Caspian Military Flotilla, to fight Wrangel’s Whites in the South. Once the party was through with Kukel and there was no more fighting to be done, he was arrested and shot, then posthumously “rehabilitated” in 1958.

Bogatyr’s page in the 1921 Janes

By the time Kronstadt was in turn the subject of a revolt against the Bolsheviks in March 1921, leaving hundreds dead and 8,000 sailors fleeing to Finland on foot over the ice once the Red Army moved in, Bogatyr had long before been abandoned and neglected. She was disarmed, towed away, and scrapped in 1922– by a German firm– while the wreck of her sister Oleg, sunk in the Kronstadt shallows, was slowly broken up by local means well into the 1930s.

Another of Bogatyr’s sisters, Kagul (the ex-revolutionary Ochakov), was captured by advancing German troops in the Black Sea in March 1918, then captured by British and French troops post-Armistice. Transferred to the Whites, she was renamed General Kornilov after their fallen leader and, when the Whites evacuated Crimea in November 1920, was sailed into exile in Bizerte and interned by the French government, who broke her up in 1933.

GENERAL KORNILOV Possibly photographed at Bizerte, where the ship spent 1920 to 1932 as a unit of the White Russian "Wrangel-Fleet." From the P.A. Warneck Collection, 1981; Courtesy of B. V. Drashpil of Margate, Florida. Catalog #: NH 92158

Bogatyr class cruiser General Kornilov, ex-Kagul, ex-Ochakov, photographed at Bizerte, where the ship spent 1920 to 1932 as a unit of the White Russian “Wrangel-Fleet.” From the P.A. Warneck Collection, 1981; Courtesy of B. V. Drashpil of Margate, Florida. Catalog #: NH 92158

Ironically, the head of the White Russian exile Naval Corps in Bizerte during that era was (former) RADM Vorozheikin, who had commanded Bogatyr in 1911. Old Vorozheikin died there in Tunisia in the late 1930s, reportedly spending his last years maintaining the salvaged ships’ libraries of the scrapped exile fleet.

Epilogue

Of Bogatyr’s most significant Great War Tsarist-era skippers, the Russo-Japanese War hero Krinitsky– who was her commander during the capture of the Magdeburg— was dismissed from the service he gave everything to in 1918, then spent the rest of his life living quietly under the Bolshevik regime as an electrician at a printing machine factory, passing in 1930.

The second, Verderevsky, who commanded her in the Ahland Islands against Albatross, was (briefly) the commander of the Baltic Fleet in early 1917, then Kerensky’s naval minister, arrested by the Bolsheviks (including, ironically, a detachment of sailors from Bogatyr) in the Winter Palace along with other members of the Provisional Government during the “10 Days that Shook the World.” He lived in exile in the West until 1947, and post-WWII warmed to the Moscow government, receiving Soviet citizenship just before he passed in France at age 73.

Bogatyr’s final sister, Pamiat Merkuria, had exchanged fire with the Germans and Ottomans in the Black Sea during WWI on at least 10 separate occasions. When the Revolution and Civil War era came, she was stripped of her armament and armor, used to build war trains, while her crew had been scattered.

Sabotaged and vandalized by successive waves of interventionist foreign armies, Whites, and Reds, she was rebuilt with salvaged guns and parts from Oleg and, in 1923, recommissioned as the slow and under-armed training cruiser/minelayer Komintern.

Soviet Bogatyr class cruiser Komintern ex Pamiat Merkuria shelling Romanian positions near Odesa, Sept 1941

Nonetheless, she got in several licks against the Germans in 1941-42, then was sunk in shallow water by Luftwaffe air attacks; her guns were salvaged and moved ashore to keep fighting.

Afterall, it was in her blood.

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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MCM Torch Passed in the Arabian Gulf (Again)

The four recently decommissioned 224-foot U.S. Navy Avenger-class Mine Countermeasures ships — the former USS Devastator, USS Dextrous, USS Gladiator, and USS Sentry — have departed Bahrain aboard the 65,000-ton Norwegian-flagged merchant heavy-lift vessel Seaway Hawk, marking their final voyage through the Arabian Gulf.

Seaway Hawk was escorted by USS Canberra (LCS 30), one of the three-pack of newly MCM-optimized Independence-class ships– the others being USS Santa Barbara (LCS 32) and Tulsa (LCS 16)-– that are currently forward-deployed to Bahrain, replacing the legacy Avenger-class ships that have served in Task Force 55 for over 30 years.

This isn’t the first time 5th Fleet MCM has passed the torch in the region with generational changes. Several circa-1950s wooden-hulled 120-foot Aggressive-class ocean minesweepers, including the USS Adroit (MSO-509) —subject of an upcoming Warship Wednesday —the USS Impervious (MSO-449), and the Leader (MSO-490), were deployed to the Persian Gulf beginning in 1990, notably supporting Operations Earnest Will, Desert Shield, and Desert Storm.

Before that, the old ‘phib USS Okinawa (LPH-3) had operated Navy RH-53D Sea Stallion minesweeping helicopters in the Gulf during Operation Ernest Will, and six small minesweeping boats (4 x 57-foot MSBs and 2x 36-foot MSLs) of Mine Group Two, Mine Division 125, had arrived in the region on USS St. Louis (LKA-116) and USS Raleigh (LPD-1) in the summer of 1987.

Mine Division 125 personnel watch as a yard crane lifts the minesweeping boat MSB 16 from the Cooper River. The boat will be placed on a skid for loading into the well deck of the amphibious transport dock USS Raleigh (LPD 1). August 1, 1987. MSGT Dave Casey, USAF. 330-CFD-DF-ST-88-03132

These brownwater boats were later augmented by the Aggressive class bluewater boats USS Fearless (MSO-442), Inflict (MSO-456), and Illusive (MSO-448), towed by USS Grapple (ARS-53) to the region. The epic nearly 10,000-mile journey began on 6 September 1987 and lasted roughly eight weeks, arriving in the Gulf of Oman on 2 November 1987. Upon arrival, the Inflict discovered and destroyed the first underwater contact mines in the northern Persian Gulf countered by an American minesweeper since the Korean War.

The salvage ship USS Grapple (ARS 53) tows the ocean minesweepers USS Inflict (MSO 456), USS Fearless (MSO 442), and USS Illusive (MSO 448) to the Persian Gulf to support US Navy escort operations. September 1, 1987 PH2 C. Duvall. 330-CFD-DN-ST-88-01143

The ocean minesweeper USS INFLICIT (MSO 456) heads towards the Persian Gulf to support US Navy escort operations, 9/1/1987

Greyhound Sardines

A cluster of Great War-era Wickes (Lumberton) class four-piper flush deck destroyers seen out of commission, in mothballs at San Diego, 4 April 1939. The converted fast minelayers USS Montgomery (DM-17) and USS Gamble (DM-15) are present in the foreground, although they still wear their original greyhound hull numbers (DD-121 and DD-123, respectively), but are ornamented with the Mine Force “meatball” insignia on the bow.

Those masts are close enough that Tarzan could swing from one to the other and never touch the deck!

Reactivated to join Mine Division Two in time for Pearl Harbor, Montgomery would be irreparably damaged by a mine in Ngulu Lagoon, Caroline Islands, 17 October 1944, with the death of four of her crew, knocking her out of the war. She was stricken and sold for scrap in 1946.

Likewise, Gamble was also knocked out by Japanese bombs in February 1945 while off Iwo Jima and never repaired.

Between just these two unsung “tin cans,” they earned 11 battle stars in the Pacific, the only way that small boys can: the hard way.

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