The crew of the Coast Guard Cutter Waesche (WMSL 751)offloaded a little over 9 tons of Colombia’s finest, worth something like $239 million, on Wednesday in San Diego after the conclusion of her latest 89-day East Pac patrol.
The 418-foot cutter– with a Helicopter Interdiction Tactical Squadron (HITRON) MH-65 Dolphin helicopter and aircrew, members from Law Enforcement Detachment (LEDET) 101 and 102, and contractors who flew a Scan Eagle UAV embarked– patrolled more than 19,750 nautical miles conducting law enforcement and search and rescue operations in international waters off Central and South America.
The 9-ton dope haul came from six interdictions at sea– four by Waesche and two by the smaller 210-foot USCGC Active who transferred her impounds to the larger national security cutter to bring in.
The biggest of the interdictions, on 20 November, was from a narco sub, officially a “self-propelled semi-submersible” (SPSS) that was shipping more than 5,500 pounds of blow. Of note, the interdiction of the SPSS was the first (caught) in the Eastern Pacific since 2020.
11th District released many great images from the narco sub-bust, showing just how big it is with the cutter’s 26-foot RHIB as a size reference.
Members of the Coast Guard Cutter Waesche (WMSL-751) law enforcement boarding team inspect a self-propelled semi-submersible (SPSS) in international waters of the Eastern Pacific Ocean, Nov. 20, 2023. The interdiction of the SPSS yielded more than 5,500 pounds of cocaine. (U.S. Coast Guard photo)
Members of the Coast Guard Cutter Waesche (WMSL-751) law enforcement boarding team inspect a self-propelled semi-submersible (SPSS) in international waters of the Eastern Pacific Ocean, Nov. 20, 2023. The interdiction of the SPSS yielded more than 5,500 pounds of cocaine. (U.S. Coast Guard photo)
Members of the Coast Guard Cutter Waesche (WMSL-751) law enforcement boarding team inspect a self-propelled semi-submersible (SPSS) in international waters of the Eastern Pacific Ocean, Nov. 20, 2023. The interdiction of the SPSS yielded more than 5,500 pounds of cocaine. (U.S. Coast Guard photo)
Members of the Coast Guard Cutter Waesche (WMSL-751) law enforcement boarding team inspect a self-propelled semi-submersible (SPSS) in international waters of the Eastern Pacific Ocean, Nov. 20, 2023. The interdiction of the SPSS yielded more than 5,500 pounds of cocaine. (U.S. Coast Guard photo)
Note the MH-65 on her heli deck with her two-door hangar open. The Legend-class cutter can accommodate an MH-65 or MH-60T and two vertical-launch unmanned aerial vehicles (U.S. Coast Guard photo)
Of note when it comes to the WMSL program, the 10th member of the class, the brand new USCGC Calhoun (WMSL 759), departed Pascagoula on 19 November for her homeport in Charleston.
Warship Wednesday, Dec. 6, 2023: One Hearty Brazilian
Photo by LT CH Parnall, Royal Navy official photographer, IWM A 20897
Above we see a scene from the life of the modified H-class destroyer HMS Hesperus (H57), some 80 years ago today on 6 December 1943, with Ordinary Seaman P. S. Buckingham, of Norwich, freshening up the ship’s record of U-boat kills on the side of the wheelhouse as the greyhound was docked at Liverpool.
While many ships would see their scoreboard whittled down greatly following post-war analysis, Hesperus went down in the books as going five for five.
The H-class
The British Royal Navy would order some 27 assorted “G”, “H” and “I” Class destroyers between 1934 and 1936 as part of the rearmament to safeguard against the growing German, Italian, and Japanese fleets in the uneasy peace leading up to WWII. They were slight ships, of just 1,800 tons and 323 feet overall length with a narrow 33-foot beam, giving them a dagger-like 1:10 length-to-beam ratio. With a speed of 35 knots and a 5,000 nm range at half that, they could keep up with the fleet or operate independently and had long enough legs for North Atlantic convoy work, should such a thing ever be needed in the future.
The differences between the three classes were primarily in engineering fit, minor superstructure changes, and armament. They were typically fitted with a quartet of QF 4.7-inch (120 mm) Mk IX guns, a few AAA mounts, between 8 and 10 anti-ship torpedo tubes, and depth charges for ASW work.
HMS Grenade (H86), a G-class destroyer. Note her layout which was like all her sisters. Grenade would be sunk in May 1940 off Dunkirk by German Stukas.
The 27th and last of the type delivered to the RN from the ships the Admiralty ordered was HMS Ivanhoe (D16) on 24 August 1937, completing the classes built out in just four years, which is not bad for peacetime production.
The G/H/Is would prove so successful of a design that the British exported it, accepting prewar orders for 19 ships for overseas allies: Argentina (seven Buenos Aires class ships delivered in 1938), Greece (two Georgios class delivered in 1939), Turkey (four desperately needed Inconstant class delivered in 1942, largely to keep Istanbul friendly at a crucial time in the war) and a half-dozen Jurua-class tin cans for the Brazilian Navy…that’s where Hesperus comes in.
Meet Hesperus
The Brazilian Navy in early 1938 ordered six modified H-class destroyers, spread across the Vickers, White, and Thornycroft yards. They would be named Jurua, Javary, Jutahy, Juruena, Jaguaribe, and Japura after rivers and towns in Brazil. Construction proceeded along nicely, and all were christened with their intended names by visiting dignitaries from the Latin American country and afloat in the summer of 1939.
Rather than a fit for four 4.7-inch guns, these six former Brazilian destroyers in British service would carry only three with the extra deck space freed up to be used for more depth charges– capable of toting as many as 110 ash cans across three rails and eight throwers. They would enter service between December 1939 and June 1940 as the Havant class (Havant, Handy, Havelock, Hearty, Highlander, and Hurricane) keeping with the “H” class naming sequence.
Our subject, the former Brazilian Juruena, was at first dubbed HMS Hearty on 15 January 1940 and then became the first of HM’s warships to be named Hesperus on 27 February 1940 in honor of the Greek name for the planet Venus in the evening, son of the dawn goddess Eos, and half-brother of Phosphorus– the latter the name for the same planet in the morning. This latter name change came to avoid confusing HMS Hearty with near-sister HMS Hardy (H87) in signals.
War!
In March 1940, after a rushed shakedown, Hesperus was assigned to convoy escort duty in the Northwest Approaches, a duty that would take up most of her wartime experience. In all, she would serve on no less than 74 crossings from Convoy AP 001/3 in April 1940 to Convoy MKF 042 in April 1945.
Hesperus underway at sea, resplendent in her war paint. IWM A 7101
In this work, Hesperus made five (two shared) high-profile confirmed “kills” on Donitz’s steel sharks inside of 18 months:
Type VIIC U-208(Oblt. Alfred Schlieper) on 7 December 1941, west of Gibraltar, shared with sister HMS Harvester.
Type VIIC U-93 (Oblt. Horst Elfe) on 15 January 1942 north-east of Madeira
Type VIIC U-357 (Kptlt. Adolf Kellner) on 26 December 1942, north-west of Ireland, shared with HMS Vanessa
Type IXC/40 U-191(Kptlt. Helmut Fiehn) on 23 April 1943, south-east of Cape Farewell, Greenland
Type IXC/40 U-186(KrvKpt. Siegfried Hesemann) on 14 May 1943, northwest of the Azores.
She plucked Oblt. Elfe and 40 survivors from U-93 out of the water and delivered them ashore at Gibraltar to finish their war in a POW camp, providing useful intelligence when interrogated. U-357 went down with only six survivors fished from the drink by the British. Meanwhile, U-208, U-191, and U-186 went down with all hands.
Waterlogged survivors of U-93 leaving HMS Hesperus at Gibraltar on 16 January 1942. IWM A 8116
Prisoners from the U-boat, likely U-357, disembarking from HMS Hesperus at Liverpool. Note the rope stays used by the guards as clubs. IWM A 13978
The fight with U-357 was particularly rough, ending on the surface with the boat electing to fight it out after depth charges and Hesperus finishing her off by ramming– the oldest of ASW techniques.
HMS Hesperus entering Liverpool harbor, on 28 December 1942, showing damage to her bows caused by ramming U-357. IWM A 13987
Same as the above, IWM A 13986
In addition to her ASW work, Hesperus also took breaks from her convoy work to escort HMs battlewagons and carriers including HMS Resolution and HMS Ark Royal to Norway (in a campaign that also saw Hesperus ferry men of the Scots Guards ashore at Bodo in May 1940).
She would again team up with Ark Royal for the Malta relief convoys in 1941 (Operations Tiger and Splice) and as a screen for the battlecruiser HMS Renown during the hunt for the Bismarck. She screened the Churchill-carrying HMS Prince of Wales to Newfoundland for him to meet with FDR in August 1941.
Kodachrome of HMS Hesperus H57 in Canadian waters, circa 1942. Library and Archives Canada MIKAN 4821059
Aerial photo of HMS Hesperus, September 1942. Note her extensive depth charge fit. IWM A 20376
In May 1945, with the endgame in Europe, she escorted surrendered U-boats from Lochalsh to Loch Foyle for disposal as part of Operation Deadlight then, on the 29th, headed back to Norway to assist with the demobilization of German troops there.
By mid-June 1945, she was tasked with supporting aircrew training, a role that meant she was an OPFOR for coastal command bombers and patrol planes. She endured this until May 1946 when she was reduced to Reserve status at Rosyth.
Hesperus, post-war, sans camouflage and most of her depth charges. IWM A 30688.
Nominated for sale and, after removal of equipment and stores, laid up at Grangemouth awaiting demolition, ex-Hesperus was broken up there in May 1947 by G W Brunton.
End of a U-boat by Norman Wilkinson via Royal Museums Greenwich, depicting a GHI-type destroyer next to a German U-boat in its death throes amid a convoy– a sight seen by Hesperus and her sisters many times.
As for her 27 British, two Greek, and six British via Brazil sisters that saw combat, a whopping 25 were lost during the war to assorted causes, most in direct combat with the Germans.
The 10 battle-scarred survivors were either, like Hesperus, scrapped almost immediately post-war or transferred abroad for further service (Garland to the Dutch, Hotspur to the Dominican Navy).
The last G/H/I afloat were the Buenos Aires-class destroyers in Argentine service, scrapped in 1973, with their Turkish sisters preceding them. None of the class members endure or are maintained as museums.
Epilogue
At the helm of Hesperus for three of her U-boat kills was CDR Donald George Frederick Wyville MacIntyre, DSO, RN. He would add two Bars to his DSO and a DSC to his coat before his tour on Hesperus was over. He had been her plank owner skipper and commanded her for the first year of her war, including the Norway campaign, but had taken a break from the ship to command HMS Walker (D 27) in 1941– during which he was responsible for sinking two of Germany’s foremost U-boat aces, Otto Kretschmer and Joachim Schepkle aboard U-100.
MacIntyre would retire from the RN in 1955 after a 33-year career, and pass in 1981, aged 77.
Oh yes, remember Kapitänleutnant Horst Elfe, of U-93? He was the sole U-boat skipper to survive a brush with Hesperus, and survived the war as well by nature of his time as a POW in Canada which only ended in 1947 and included the “Battle of Bowmanville.” He died in Berlin in 2008, aged 91.
Elfe went on eight patrols, four as a skipper, without sinking a ship. He became a noted steel executive in Germany after the war.
HMS Hesperus had been “adopted” by Yeovil and District in its National Savings “Warship Week” that began on 28 February 1942, in which the building cost, more than £300,000 was raised.
The town has a plaque carried aboard the ship during the war as well as her final white ensign in the tower of St John’s church.
War artist William Dring visited Hesperus during the war and painted several pastels of her crew at work.
Engine Room Artificer W Wakefield wearing overalls, turning a large wheel in the engine room. Behind him are two other colleagues at work. IWM ART LD 3536
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An interesting post from Groton-based Submarine Squadron (COMSUBRON12) Twelve last week shows submariners undergoing counter-UAS training on board Submarine Base New London.
The pictures show the backpack Drone Restricted Access Using Known Electromagnetic Warfare (DRAKE) system at play with some small quadcopters.
Marketed by Northrop Grumman since at least 2016, DRAKE is a “radio-frequency negation system that delivers a non-kinetic, selective electronic attack of Group 1 drones,” with that definition applying to UASs weighing less than 20 pounds, flying lower than 1,200 feet, and flying slower than 100 knots.
You know, the kind of drones that have been extensively seen in Ukraine dropping mortar bombs and grenades down the hatch of Russian tanks in the past couple of years.
While the Navy has been shipping DRAKEs out to the surface fleet since at least 2021 it is nice that the bubbleheads are getting some drone zapping kit for those occasional (and very vulnerable) periods when they are transiting on the surface.
This augments the M249 SAWs and laser dazzlers they have been carrying to warn off small boats and combat swimmers.
APRA HARBOR, Guam (July 8, 2021) Sailors aboard the Los Angeles-class fast-attack submarine USS Springfield (SSN 761) depart Naval Base Guam after completing a regularly scheduled evolution with the submarine tender USS Emory S. Land (AS 39). Springfield is capable of supporting various missions, including anti-submarine warfare, anti-surface ship warfare, strike warfare and intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class Victoria Kinney)
GROTON, Conn. (Dec. 20, 2019) Sailors assigned to the Virginia-class fast-attack submarine USS Minnesota (SSN 783) stand topside as they pull into their homeport at Naval Submarine Base New London in Groton, Conn., Dec 20, 2019, following a deployment. Minnesota deployed to execute the chief of naval operation’s maritime strategy in supporting national security interests and maritime security operations. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class Steven Hoskins/Released)
Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday) Nov. 16, 2023: The Darkest Twist
Official USN photo probably by Tai Sing Loo, courtesy of George & Linda Salava. This photo was from the collection of FC3 Frank Salava who was lost when the Sculpin (SS-191) was sunk & 62 other crewmen were K.I.A. on 19 November 1943. Via Navsource
Above we see the S-type (Sargo-class) fleet boat USS Sculpin (SS-191) entering Pearl Harbor sometime between April 1940 and October 1941, in tense but happy times. Note the bright white pre-war pennant numbers on her fairwater. Sculpin would soon be at war, one that she would not emerge.
The Sargo class
The 10 early fleet boats of the Sargo class came in the wake of the half-dozen very similar Salmon class vessels (indeed, they are typically referred to as the “S-Class 2nd Group”) and 10 early 1930s Porpoise class boats, which paved the way for the Navy to get the long-range Pacific submarine design nailed down in the follow-on Tambor, Gato (85 boats), Balao (134 boats), and Tench (29 boat) classes. Importantly, their new and improved battery design would become the standard for American diesel boats through the 1950s when they were replaced by the Sargo II batteries under the GUPPY program.
View of some of the Sargo-type battery cells as seen through a floor hatch aboard the museum ship, the Balao-class submarine USS Ling (SS-297), located in Hackensack, New Jersey. Photo date 31 Aug 2013 “Instead of a single hard rubber case, it had two concentric hard rubber cases with a layer of soft rubber between them. This was to prevent sulfuric acid leakage in the event one case cracked during depth-charging. Leaking sulfuric acid is capable of corroding steel, burning the skin of crew members it came into contact with, and if mixed with any seawater in the bilges would generate poisonous chlorine gas.”
Some 2,300 tons (submerged) the Sargos ran 310 feet overall, a foot shorter than the much more prolific Gatos.
Capable of making 21 knots on the surface and with a range of 11,000 nm, they had an operational depth of over 250 feet and carried an impressive main battery of eight (four forward, four aft) 21-inch torpedo tubes and the ability to carry 24 torpedoes. Meanwhile, the deck gun was a puny 3″/50 DP wet mount (which was later replaced by a bigger 4″50 later in the war).
The 10 Sargos were all given aquatic names beginning with “S” and were built by EB in Groton (Sargo, Saury, Spearfish, Seadragon and Sealion), Mare Island Navy Yard (Swordfish) and Portsmouth Navy Yard in Maine (Sculpin, Squalus, Searaven, and Seawolf) on an extremely compressed timeline with the first being laid down in May 1937 and the last commissioning in December 1939– just 31 months. Not bad for peacetime production.
Launch of Sargo-class submarine USS Swordfish (SS-193) at Mare Island Navy Yard, California on April 1st, 1939. This is the earliest known color Official Navy Photograph that can be precisely dated.
Still, the class was cramped, with just 36 bunks for 62 enlisted men.
Meet Scuplin
Our subject is the first Navy ship to be named in honor of the “spiny, large-headed, broad-mouthed, usually scale-less fish of the family Cottidae” and was laid down on 7 September 1937 at Portsmouth, launched on 27 July 1938, and commissioned on 16 January 1939.
Sculpin launched
No sooner had she begun her career than, while on shakedown, Sculpin was tasked with finding lost classmate (and yard mate) USS Squalus (SS-192),which had suffered a catastrophic valve failure during a test dive off the Isle of Shoals at 0740 on 23 May, drowning 26 men immediately. Partially flooded, Squalus sank to the bottom and came to rest, keel down, in 40 fathoms of water with 32 surviving crewmembers and one civilian trapped in the forward section.
USS Squalus Sweating It Out. Painting, Watercolor, and Ink on Paper; by John Groth; 1966; Unframed Dimensions 26H X 36W NHHC Accession #: 88-161-QX
At 1040, when Squalus was an hour overdue for regular check-in, the red flag went up.
Luckily, Sculpin was due to leave Portsmouth for Newport at 1130 and was directed to the last known position of Squalus.
Fixing the sub’s position via sonar, Sculpin stood by while the Navy’s Experimental Dive Unit own Allan Rockwell McCann and Charles Bowers Momsen arrived on the old Great War Lapwing-class minesweeper-turned-submarine rescue ship USS Falcon (AM-28/ASR-2) and a swarm of Coast Guard assets to begin the rescue.
Aerial photograph showing, from left to right, fleet tug USS Wandank, submarine USS Sculpin, submarine rescue ship USS Falcon, naval shipyard tug Penacook, and Lighthouse Service tender Hibiscus, in addition to Coast Guard boats and spectator boats. USCG Photo 230717-G-ZW188-2000
Four enlisted divers using then-new heliox diving schedules and the McCann Submarine Rescue Chamber (SRC) ran constantly for 14 hours making four trips down to Squalus’s forward trunk, rescuing all 33 survivors.
A fifth trip was made to the Squalus’s after torpedo room hatch to verify that no men survived in the flooded portion of the boat — one of the most stirring successes in submarine rescue operations.
The four enlisted divers– Chief Boatswain’s Mate Orson L. Crandall, Chief Metalsmith James Harper McDonald, Chief Machinist’s Mate William Badders, and Chief Torpedoman John Mihalowski — received rare peacetime Medals of Honor in January 1940.
Squalus was eventually raised in July 1939 with the help of Sculpin and repaired, and was put back into service as USS Sailfish, with the same hull number (SS-192). More on her later.
Submarine Sculpin Lying off the Port Beam of the Salvage Ship Falcon, Assisting with Pumping Operations through a Hose Line. NARA
View from the USS Sculpin of the Raising of the Pontoons Attached to the Bow of the USS Squalus. NARA
USN 1149026
Salvage of USS Squalus (SS-192). USS Falcon (ASR-2) moored over the sunken Squalus, during salvage operations off the New Hampshire coast in the Summer of 1939. USS Sculpin (SS-191) is in the right background. USN 1149028
War!
Sculpin and her class were built for the looming war in the Pacific and, as soon as she wrapped up her duty in the Squalus rescue and raising, she was off to Pearl Harbor, arriving there in April 1940 via “The Ditch” and San Diego. Operating from Hawaii with the Pacific Fleet, with tensions bubbling up with the Empire of Japan, she was forward deployed 5,100 miles West to Admiral Thomas Hart’s Asiatic Fleet in the Philippines in late October, arriving at Cavite Navy Yard on 8 November to join Submarine Division 22.
A month later the war got real.
Just after the inaugural Japanese air raids from Formosa, Sculpin and her sister USS Seawolf (SS-197) got underway from Cavite on 8 December 1941 to escort the old aircraft carrier Langley (then used as an aircraft transport, pennant AV-3), and the precious oilers USS Pecos (AO–6) and USS Trinity (AO-13) from the yard off Sangley Point that evening, clearing the American minefield and zig-zagging through the Verde Island Passage with her skipper noting “Langley used general signals freely, probably unaware that we have landed the greater part of our classified publications.”
Handing Langley and the two irreplaceable tankers to the four-piper destroyers USS Pope (DD-225) and USS John D. Ford (DD-228) the next morning to shepherd further to Dutch Borneo, the Sculpin and Seawolf separated and embarked on their first war patrols. They made it out of Cavite just in time as it was attacked on the morning of 10 December by 80 Japanese bombers and 52 fighter planes, destroying it as a base for the Asiatic Fleet and leaving 500 dead. Among the shattered vessels left at Cavite was Sargo-class sister USS Sealion (SS-195).
Sculpin conducted her patrol like clockwork, submerging just before dawn in her assigned zone north of Luzon, patrolling slowly on her electric motors at 100 feet down, surfacing at dusk, and remaining on the surface all night with lookouts. She was plagued with mechanical issues, suffering a freon leak in her refrigerator, shipping water from her No. 7 torpedo tube, and her fathometer called it quits on the fourth day of the war. Worse, she was beset with a lack of targets, only encountering the occasional passing local sampans and coasters.
On 10 January, she came across a juicy target, a 10-ship Japanese convoy off the Surigao Strait. She worked close enough to get a bead on a big freighter thought to have been of the Shoei Maru type and fired four torpedoes with two believed to have been hits.
While DANFS lists this as “possibly Sculpin should be given credit for eliminating 3,817-ton merchantman, Akita Maru” it is generally thought that that vessel, an Army transport, was sunk the same day some distance away at the mouth of the Gulf of Siam along with the cargo ship Tairyu Maru by the hard-charging Dutch sub Hr.Ms. O-19.
Sculpin ended her 1st patrol on 22 January 1942 at Surabaya, Java, having sailed some 6,921 miles.
Her 2nd war patrol started a week later, leaving Java to patrol the Celebes in the south Philippines on 30 January. There, on 4 February, she torpedoed and damaged the Japanese destroyer Suzukazeoff Staring Bay, south of Kendari, Celebes. Suzukaze was heavily damaged, with nine of her crew killed, and was knocked out of the war for five months. Two days later she attacked and sank what was reported to be a “heavily screened Tenry-class enemy cruiser.”
Sculpin had a third run on a convoy spoiled by a grueling depth charge attack on 17 February– with the explosions jamming the steering and stern planes of the boat forcing her to a near-crush depth of 340 feet, and ending her patrol to seek repairs at Exmouth Bay, Australia.
Her third patrol, begun from Australia in March after she had been roughly patched up, included three attacks made while in patrol off the Moluccas while struggling with a new radar installation and faulty torpedoes. She steamed 7,895 miles in 21 days, about 80 percent of that on the surface.
With the war just over four months old, and most of that spent running and fighting in Japanese-controlled waters, constantly shifting homeports further and further south, her crew was at the breaking point.
Her 4th war patrol, in the South China Sea from 29 May to 17 July, would be even longer, stretching 9,349 miles.
Her 5th patrol would be her most successful, leaving Brisbane on 8 September to patrol in the target-rich Bismarck Sea with the Solomons Campaign underway. She torpedoed and damaged the Japanese seaplane carrier Nisshineast of Kokoda Island off New Britain on 28 September and was damaged by depth charges but was able to continue her patrol, going on to sink the troop transports Naminoue Maru (4731 GRT) and Sumiyoshi Maru (1921 GRT) in early October before arriving back at Brisbane on 26 October then made a run on the light cruiser Yura without success.
The tactics had changed, with 42 of 48 days of her 5th war patrol spent with at least some time submerged, cruising some 8,594 miles.
Her 6th patrol, off Truk in the Caroline Islands from 18 November through the end of the year, netted no trophies– although she did stalk a Japanese flattop on the surface at night and earn some bracketing shell fire as a participation award– after ending it on 8 January 1943 at Pearl Harbor, she sailed back to the West Coast for a much-needed overhaul.
At this point in her career, she carried 13 enemy ships on her Jolly Roger.
“Undersea Hunters Mark Up 13 Victories. They found good hunting. Back at a Pacific base after a cruise in enemy waters, officers and crew of the Sculpin (SS-191) display a flag symbolic of three Japanese warships and ten merchantmen sent to the bottom.” Crew photo taken 7 March 1943. The men are from left to right, (Front Row) Carlos Tulea, 29, OS2c (officers steward) of Cavite, P.I.; Lt Corwin G. Mendenhall, USN, 26, of Anehuac, Texas; Weldon E. Moore, Chief Signalman, 34, of Colorado Springs. Colorado;(KIA), Lt. John H. Turner, USN, 29. (Back Row) John J. Pepersack, Chief Electrician, 42 of Baltimore, MD; A. W. Coulter, QM3/c, 20, of St. Louis, MO; K. E. Waidelich, SM3c, 21, of Jackson, Michigan; Charlie Coleman, MoMM2c, 24, Philadelphia, PA (KIA); John Swift, EM1c, 25, of Newfane, NY; John J. Hollenbach, MM1c, 27 of Brookville, ID; Ralph S. Austin, MM2c, 21, of Springtown, TX; F. J. Dyboske, CEM, 33, of Rockford, IL; C. A. De Armond, MM1c, 30, of Denver CO. Text i.d. courtesy of Ric Hednan. (Official U. S. Navy photo from NEA). Image and text provided by the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Library, Chapel Hill, NC. Photo & text by The Wilmington Morning Star. (Wilmington, N.C.) 1909-1990, 10 March 1943, FINAL EDITION, Image 1, courtesy of chroniclingamerica.loc.gov.
A better version of the above image.
Her refit left her with a series of great images of her late-war appearance, including moving her 3-inch popgun forward of the tower.
USS Sculpin (SS-191) At the Bethlehem Steel Company shipyard, San Francisco, California, on 1 May 1943, following an overhaul. This view of the forward end of her sail identifies changes recently made to the ship. Note 20mm and 3/50 guns: SD and SJ radar antennas. NH 97305
USS Sculpin (SS-191) At the Bethlehem Steel Company shipyard, San Francisco, California, on 1 May 1943, following an overhaul. This view of the after end of her sail identifies changes recently made to the ship. Note 20mm gun, SD and SJ radar antennas. The Coast Guard lighthouse tender Balsam (WAGL-62) is in the floating drydock in the right background. NH 97306
USS Sculpin (SS-191) In San Francisco Bay, California, on 1 May 1943, following an overhaul. The San Francisco Bay Bridge is in the background. NH 97303
Same as above, NH 97302
Back in the war, she started her 7th war patrol from Pearl Harbor on 24 May, bound for Japanese home waters where she stalked the light carrier Hiyo and sank two small vessels via naval gunfire off Inubozak, ending her patrol on Independence Day in Midway.
Her 8th war patrol, leaving Midway on 25 July, would span some 9,074 miles of ocean and she claimed a 4,000-ton AK sunk– postwar confirmed as the cargo ship Sekko Maru (3183 GRT) — off Formosa. Returning to Midway on 17 September, LT Chappell, who had earned two Navy Crosses on Sculpin, would leave the boat he had commanded since April 1941 to command Submarine Division 281.
Chappell survived the war and later had command of Submarine Squadron 7, USS Mt. McKinley (AGC-7), and the cruiser USS Quincy (CA-71) — ironic considering he claimed at least two attacks on Japanese cruisers during the war. While a rear admiral, he served as the technical advisor to films The Wackiest Ship in the Army and Operation Petticoat, the latter in which the USS Balao (SS 285) was painted pink. He passed away in 1980.
Sculpin’s new skipper, LCDR Fred “Fee” Connaway (USNA 1932), formerly XO and skipper of the training boats USS S-13 (SS-118) and USS S-48 (SS 159), took over on 20 October.
Two weeks later, with a third of her 84 men aboard sailing to war for the first time, on 5 November, Sculpin left Pearl Harbor for her 9th war patrol in a wolf pack (err, “Submarine Coordinated Attack Group”) with two other submarines (Searaven and Apagon), ordered to patrol north of Truk, to intercept and attack Japanese forces leaving that stronghold to oppose the planned Allied invasion of the Tarawa in the Gilbert Islands.
The wolf pack commodore’s flag, carried aboard Sculpin, was Captain John P. Cromwell (USNA 1924), formerly commander of Submarine Divisions 203, 44, and 43 and one of the stars of COMSUBPAC VADM Charles Lockwood’s staff. He had been an officer in the Bureau of Engineering/BuShips in Washington for two years concerning submarine development and was the Engineering officer for the Pacific Fleet’s Sub force. In short, if it was submarine-related, he knew it including details of performance, construction, machinery, communications, and exploitable flaws. Plus, he was privy to Ultra intercept secrets.
Sculpin, Connaway, and Cromwell would never come back, with the submarine reported missing in November, presumed lost on 30 December, and struck from the Navy list on 25 March 1944.
The Tragic End
Post-VJ Day, Allied rescuers recovered 21 members of Sculpin’s final crew from Japanese prison camps working the copper mines of Ashio, mostly junior enlisted but including one officer (Diving officer LT George E Brown., Jr.– who was kept in solitary confinement when not being interrogated, put on reduced rations, given frequent beatings, and threatened with death if he refused to answer questions).
Pieced together from their interviews, the sub attacked a Japanese convoy on the night of 18 November, but it all went pear-shaped and by the next morning, she was battered and headed to the mat, racing down to 700 feet at one point. This led ultimately to a last-ditch surface gunfight with the Japanese destroyer Yamagumo at point-blank range.
0640 Sighted enemy submarine (USS SCULPIN) surfacing on the port beam, and seeing it submerge begins a series of alternate depth-charge and pinging runs.
1109 the damaged submarine accidentally broaches the surface, and the destroyer intensifies the attack.
1256 The SCULPIN surfaces, being crippled and unable to stay submerged. The submarine opts for a desperate gunfire duel with its starboard side facing YAMAGUMO’s starboard side as they exchange fire at 2,000 yards.
1307 The submarine is listing and the destroyer ceases fire and ten minutes later dispatches rescue boats as the scuttled submarine submerges for the last time in what looked to her survivors almost like a normal dive. Forty-one survivors are rescued, and YAMAGUMO returns to Truk with them.
As detailed by the NHHC:
About noon on 19 November, a close string of 18 depth charges threw Sculpin, already at deep depth, badly out of control. The pressure hull was distorted, she was leaking, the steering and diving plane gear were damaged and she was badly out of trim. Commander Connaway decided to surface and to fight clear.
The ship was surfaced and went to gun action.
During the battle Commander Connaway and the Gunnery Officer were on the bridge, and the Executive Officer was in the conning tower. When the destroyer placed a shell through the main induction and one or more through the conning tower, these officers and several men were killed. Lt. Brown succeeded to command. He decided to scuttle the ship, and gave the order “all hands abandon ship.” After giving the order the last time the ship was dived at emergency speed by opening all vents.
About 12 men rode the ship down, including Captain Cromwell and one other officer, both of whom refused to leave it. Captain Cromwell, being familiar with plans for our operations in the Gilberts and other areas, stayed with the ship to ensure that the enemy could not gain any of the information he possessed.
The Japanese pulled 42 men from the ocean, tossed one back overboard that was seriously wounded, and landed 3 officers and 38 men at Truk for rough questioning.
Separating these into two groups for transport to Japan, the first, consisting of 21 men, was in the brig of the escort carrier Chuyo when she was sunk by the Sailfish (SS-192) — ironically the old Squalus that Sculpin had been so key in rescuing and raising in 1939.
Only one wounded American made it off Chuyo, George Rocek, MoMMIc, USN, who was rescued by a Japanese destroyer (again) only to be sent to join the rest of his crewmates in the Ashio copper mines, who had made it safely to Japan in the brig of the carrier Un’yō. The mines also held survivors from the lost American subs USS Grenadier, Perch, Sculpin, Tang, S-44, and Tullibee.
Sculpin was awarded eight battle stars for her service in World War II, in addition to the Philippine Presidential Unit Citation. Her wartime tally, not entirely confirmed by post-war records, was sinking 9 ships for 42,200 tons and damaging 10, totaling 63,000 tons.
Epilogue
Sculpin is one of 52 U.S. submarines lost in WWII-– almost one out of five subs that logged combat patrols– taking with them 374 officers and 3,131 enlisted men. These personnel losses represented 16 percent of the officers and 13 percent of the enlisted operational personnel in the submarine branch.
Her final desperate stand is remembered in maritime art.
DUE 117: USN Submarine vs IJN Antisubmarine Escort,’ illustrated by Ian Palmer, shows the death of USS Sculpin, via Osprey Publications.
The 1950s TV show “Silent Service” had an episode devoted to Sculpin, including a guest appearance by LT Brown.
The reports for the first eight of her patrols are in the National Archives.
Considered to be on Eternal Patrol, Sculpin and her lost crew are thus remembered in several memorials nationwide. Her sisters Seawolf, Sealion, and Swordfish are also among the 52.
Their names are inscribed on a memorial at the USS Albacore Museum in New Hampshire. (Photo: Chris Eger)
When it came to the rest of the 10-boat Sargo class, they were disposed of shortly after the war as obsolete, all sold for scrap or sunk as targets before their 10th birthdays. They claimed no less than 73 enemy ships during the war and chalked up 84 battle stars between them. Class member Seawolf (SS-197) is tied for seventh place in confirmed ships sunk by U.S. subs, according to the postwar accounting of the Joint Army–Navy Assessment Committee (JANAC).
LT Brown earned a November 1945 Silver Star for his performance during Sculpin’s doomed final patrol. He had made five runs with USS S-40, and four on Sculpin, filling his dance card long before he spent the last 23 months of the war in a hellish series of POW camps.
First-Class Motor Machinist’s Mate George Rocek passed in 2007, aged a ripe old 86, having seen some serious shit including being in the unenviable position of being rescued twice by the Japanese from the sea.
Cromwell, the wolf pack commander who had served on ADM Lockwood’s staff and whose head was filled with Ultra intercept secrets that he took to the bottom with him, would be recommended for and receive the Medal of Honor, posthumously, and the destroyer escort USS Cromwell (DE-1014), commissioned in 1954, was named in his honor.
He was the most senior submariner to earn the MOH and LT Brown, the last man to see him alive, recalled him “sitting on an empty 20mm shell container, holding a picture of his wife and children” as Sculpin was going down.
Cromwell’s wife, Margaret, received his Medal of Honor with it being placed on his son John P. “Duke” Cromwell, Jr. (USNA ’51, ret Capt.) by VADM Richard S. Edwards (USNA 1907), commander of Western Sea Frontier.
Cromwell’s sacrifice has been well recorded in naval lore, from comic books to novels and tomes of military history. He and Connaway is remembered in Memorial Hall at the United States Naval Academy where his name is engraved under the “DONT GIVE UP THE SHIP” flag honoring those alumni killed in action.
Vignette gives details on why Captain Cromwell received the Medal of Honor for actions taken during the loss of USS Sculpin on 19 November 1943, by Mario DeMarco, published in the Navy Times circa 1956. NH 86993
“There is a port of no return-” Captain John P. Cromwell goes down with the stricken Sculpin (SS-191) to prevent seizure and possible enemy extortion of special information confided to his care. The sea will keep his secret well, and his name will become a naval synonym for valor. “Sailor, rest your oar-” Drawing by Lt. Cmdr. Fred Freemen, courtesy of Theodore Roscoe, from his book “U.S. Submarine Operations of WW II”, published by USNI, via Navsource.
OAAW #239 1971 by Norman Maurer
OAAW #239 1971 by Norman Maurer
As for Sculpin, while plans for a Tench class submarine to carry her name onward failed when the war ended, about the only tangible part of her is the eight-patrol Jolly Roger battle flag presented by the crew to LT (later RADM) Chappell when he left the boat in 1943.
It is cherished and maintained by his family. Photo courtesy of Randy Chappell, son of Lt. Commander Lucius H Chappell, via PIGBOATs.
Fred Connaway, the skipper of Sculpin killed in her last surface engagement, was posthumously awarded the Silver Star. Fred’s widow, Loretta, was there with three former POWs of Sculpin’s last crew– including LT Brown– when the new Skipjack-class hunter-killer USS Sculpin (SSN-590)was launched in Pascagoula on 31 March 1960.
USS Sculpin (SS (N) -590) Sponsor and three survivors of the first SCULPIN. L to R: Mr. George Brown, Mrs. Fred Connaway, Mr. Paul L. Murphy, Mr. Billy M. Cooper NH 108726
USS Sculpin (SSN-590) launching, 31 March 1960 Ingalls east bank Pascagoula NH 108730
The second Sculpin served until 1990 then was decommissioned and recycled.
Ships are more than steel and wood And heart of burning coal, For those who sail upon them know That some ships have a soul.
If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International
The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.
With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.
PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships, you should belong.
Warship Wednesday, Nov. 8, 2023: Wrong Place at the Wrong Time
Above we see the mighty King Edward VII class battleship HMS Britannia, circa 1908, in all her fine peacetime glory. She would give more wartime service than her sisters and came within two days of finishing the conflict unscathed, tragically sent to the bottom 105 years ago this week.
The King Edward VII class
Hitting over 17,000 tons when fully loaded and with a 453-foot overall length, the eight battleships of the King Edward VII class (King Edward VII, Africa, Britannia, Commonwealth, Dominion, Hibernia, Hindustan, and New Zealand/Zealandia) were big for pre-Dreadnoughts (more than 2,000 tons heavier and 30 feet longer than the preceding Duncan class), as well as being fast, capable of hitting 18.5 knots on a pair of triple expansion steam engines driven by as many as 18 water tube boilers.
King Edward VII, the class leader, was completed in February 1905, just 22 months before HMS Dreadnought.
Carrying a 9-inch Krupp armor belt with barbettes, turrets, conning tower, and bulkheads thickening to as much as 12 inches, they could take abuse and could dish it out as well in the form of four BL 12″/40 (30.5 cm) Mark IX guns-– which were the first large-caliber British gun to use a Welin breech mechanism that considerably shortened the loading time.
Forecastle of HMS Britannia ca. October 1914. Note the forward twin 12-inch/40 mount
Rather than the 6-inch secondary battery of the Duncans, the KEVIIs carried another four 9.2″/47 (23.4 cm) Mark Xs in single gun beam turrets with about a 170-degree arc of fire and 10 6-inch casemates as a tertiary battery.
Note one of the four single 9.2-inch mounts
Added to this were nearly 30 12- and 3-pounder counter-boat guns and a quartet of 18-inch torpedo tubes.
Jane’s 1914 on the King Edward VII class
Had it not been for the fact that Dreadnought came along in 1906, the KEVIIs would have been top-of-the-line but instead were obsolete almost as soon as they were finished. In fact, other than the two Lord Nelson-class battleships (which were just improved KEVIIs) the King Edward VII class was the last pre-Dreadnoughts ordered by the Admiralty.
Meet Britannia
Our subject is the sixth RN warship– going back to a 100-gun first-rate ship of the line launched in 1682– to carry the name of Britannia, the goddess and personification of Great Britain.
National Service Britannia poster by Septimus E. Scott Great Wr
One of the most majestic and hard-serving of the five prior ships (all sail-powered) was the 120-gun first-rate launched in 1820 and remained in the line through 1859 then endured as a training hulk for some years after.
HMS Britannia entering Devonport Harbor, 1820. Hand-colored lithograph print, from a painting by Thomas Lyle Hornbrook, (L) and HMS Britannia, a 120-gun first-rate ship of the line, lithograph by John Ward (R).
Laid down on 4 February 1904 at the Portsmouth Dockyard, our Britannia was launched that December and entered service in September 1906, just three months before Dreadnought— a short run on top!
Battleship HMS Britannia 1906 Symonds & Co Collection IWM Q 21042
Battleship HMS Britannia Photo by E Hopkins IWM Q 75235
Still, the new class of KEVIIs were majestic for a time and served as a unit with first the Channel Fleet and then the Home Fleet, with the class leader as the flag of each in turn.
Noted maritime artist William Lionel Wyllie sailed with the squadron and captured them in his eye.
Battleships steaming in two columns towards the artist’s viewpoint, led by the ‘King Edward VII’class ‘Britannia’ of 1904 on the right by William Lionel Wyllie. The ships are all of the type colloquially known as pre-dreadnoughts and the date is 1906-07, since ‘Britannia’ was the only one to carry a white funnel band mid-way on each funnel and she only wore these bands in those years. Wyllie has apparently used a very large number of pins to hold the paper down, suggesting the sketch may have been made at sea. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London RMG PU9918
“No.2 / Reduce speed to 30 Revolutions’ [‘King Edward VII’, ‘New Zealand’, ‘Hibernia’, ‘Britannia’, ‘Hindustan’, ‘Africa’] by William Lionel Wyllie. Numbered and inscribed by the artist, as title, and with the ship names identifying those shown. It is one of a group of four (PAE1035-PAE1038) showing battleships of the ‘King Edward VII’ class during squadron evolutions in the period 1907-09 while serving in the Channel Fleet. The set, each within a ruled frame, was probably made for illustration use. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London RMG PV1036
A general view of Line B with the battleships at anchor during the Naval Review or Kings Review of the Fleet at Spithead. HMS King Edward VII in front, with Britannia, Hindostan, and Dominion behind. The ship on the column on the left side of the photo is the Queen. The ships were in Spithead for a naval review witnessed by King Edward VII, in July 1909. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London RMG 4793355124
King Edward VII-class battleships on maneuvers ca. 1909
By 1912, with the number of modern fast battleships filling the ranks of the Royal Navy, the eight still young but out-gunned KEVIIs made up the newly-formed 3rd Battle Squadron, where they were nicknamed “the wobbly eight” due to their slight tendency to roll in heavy seas and have issues holding formation due to their hull form.
HMS Hindustan seen astern of HMS Britannia ca. October 1914. While they had long legs, the KEVII’s were not great seaboats
And, of course, running these coal-eating and steel-spitting leviathans required a lot of hard work.
Royal Naval Coaling Crew, HMS Britannia 12.9.09. The class had bunkerage for 2,150 tons of coal and another 400 of oil for superheating, allowing a range of 7,000nm at 10 knots.
Soon after they were ordered to the Mediterranean to stand by during the Balkan Wars but were back in home waters by 1913.
Royal Navy’s Third Battleship Squadron at Valetta’s Grand Harbour, Malta – 1st December 1912. Working from left to right HMS Hindustan (bow only), Africa, Hibernia, and King Edward VII.
War!
The 3rd Battle Squadron, under VADM Edward Bradford, spent the tail end of 1914 and most of 1915 racing around in support of the cruisers on the Northern Patrol but managed to not bump into the Germans.
Battleship HMS Britannia 1914 Symonds & Co Collection IWM Q 21043A
It was during this period that Britannia ran aground on Inchkeith in January 1915 and suffered severe damage that took her offline for repairs at Devonport. Further, Hibernia and Zealandia were detached for Gallipoli.
The squadron was permanently reduced in early 1916 when class leader King Edward VII struck a mine laid by the German auxiliary cruiser SMS Mowe off Cape Wrath and took 10 hours to sink. The remaining seven members, with Hibernia and Zealandia, returned and Britannia back from repair, screened by the 3rd Cruiser Squadron (HMS Antrim, Devonshire, and Roxburgh) and the destroyers Beaver, Druid, Ferret, Hind, Hornet, Mastiff, Matchless, and Sandfly, was left behind when the Grand Fleet went to scrap with Scheer at Jutland in May.
Post-Jutland and with the Allied effort to force the Dardanelles abandoned, there was little for Britannia and the rest of the 3rd BS to do in Northern Europe, and she and sister Africa were sent to rove in warmer waters.
Britannia left Portsmouth on 18 October 1916 for Taranto via Gibraltar and Malta, arriving in the Italian port on 20 November. She would remain there through Christmas and New Years, conducting training and sending parties ashore before shoving off on 16 February 1917 for the South Atlantic, turning left at Gibraltar and heading to Freetown, Sierra Leone then setting out to escort a six-ship convoy from West Africa to Bermuda in late March.
Returning to Sierra Leone in May, Britannia would sortie 3,700 miles down the continent to Simonstown, South Africa, beginning on 7 June 1917 in convoy with two merchantmen, passing the French cruiser Dupleix and Japanese cruiser Tsushima with their own Northbound convoys on the way. Britannia would arrive in South Africa then promptly turn back around on the 26th with another Freetown-bound eight-ship convoy, arriving there on 11 July when she hoisted the flag of RADM T.D.L. Sheppard, commanding the 9th Cruiser Squadron.
After a quick run to Ascension, Britannia would return to Freetown to pick up a 10-ship convoy to Simonstown on 8 August and remain in South African waters for a spell, shifting to Cape Town, before heading back to Sierra Leone at the end of September– with the battleship herself carrying a load of bullion north in addition to her escort role.
“Nearing Cape Town.” Portrait of a ship and the Table mountain range behind taken from the SS Durham Castle which was being escorted by HMS Britannia from Sierra Leone to Cape Town. The image is from an album chronicling the wartime experiences of Archibald Clive Irvine (1893-1974) in East Africa. During this time he would meet Dr John W Arthur which in turn would lead to his missionary work at Chogoria in Kenya.
This 8,000-mile roundtrip convoy-and-gold run would repeat another five times (November 1917, January 1918, March 1918, May 1918, and July 1918), shelping gold from South African mines to Freetown for further shipment to England from there, then returning to Simonstown with ammunition and stores that had been sent down from Europe.
In general, she would accomplish the trip in 15 days from port to port, making the 3,700-mile trip at about 10 knots the whole way. While the idea of a sole battlewagon with no other escorts shepherding a slow convoy would seem ludicrous to most in WWII, in 1917-18 it wasn’t a bad idea when you keep in mind this was off Africa and the most likely German warship encountered would have been the occasional auxiliary cruiser commerce raider of the same sort as SMS Mowe (9,800t, 4×6″, 1x 4″, 2xtt, 13 knots) and SMS Wolf (11,000t, 8×6″, 4xtt, 11 knots). It was boring work, but Britannia found a useful niche that arguably needed a pre-dreadnought battleship to fill. Meanwhile, her six sisters left behind in Europe were at this time being relegated to ignoble use as depot, training, floating barracks, and support ships.
On 20 October 1918, she set off for Gibraltar on her final convoy run.
While our battleship did not (knowingly) come across a U-boat in all of these African cruises, between June 1917 and September 1918, her deck logs noted that she put her periscope target over the side for gunners and spotters to work with while underway on no less than 39 occasions while she “exercised submarine stations.” Besides, other than the rare case of the large cruiser submarine U-154 appearing off the coast of Liberia in April 1918, no German U-boat of the Great War made it into the South Atlantic.
In fact, Britannia almost made it to the Armistice without having a bad interaction with the Kaiser’s underwater sharks.
Almost.
The Tragic Final Act
The UB III type submarine SM UB 50under Oblt. Heinrich Kukat was roving out from the Med in November 1918 from her home as part of the Pola, Croatia-based Mittelmeer II Flotilla. Notably, U-Flottille Pola had at the time been disbanded as Austro-Hungary was rapidly leaving the war (and dissolving as a country) with the eight remaining KM U-boats still there on 28 October (U-47, U-65, UB-48, UB-116, UC-25, UC-53, and UC-54) scuttled by their crews.
With both UB 50 and Britannia heading home from their respective wars, they chanced upon each other in the Strait of Gibraltar on the morning of 9 November 1918. Kukat managed to get close enough to fire two torpedoes into the Englishman while she was steaming 11 miles NNW of Cape Spartel just to the West of Gibraltar. Stopping dead in the water, a cordite explosion in one of Britannia’s 9.2-inch magazines went up and she was doomed.
HMS Britannia sinking NARA 45511435
Still, under the cool leadership of her skipper, Capt. Francis Wade Caulfeild– formerly the commander of the battleship HMS Venerable and cruisers Fox, Juno, and Royal Arthur— most of her crew (712 of 762) made it off as she sank slowly for nearly three hours. It was just two days before the signing of the Armistice and, other than the Racecourse-class minesweeper HMS Ascot that was sent to the bottom by UB 67 on 11 November, she was the last Royal Navy ship lost to combat in WWI.
Britannia was the eighth largest allied ship sunk by German U-boats during the war, coming in just behind the French battleship Danton (18,300 tons) and the 18,000-ton liners President Lincoln and Laconia.
Epilogue
At least 23 of the men whose bodies were recovered are interred at the Garrison Cemetery in Gibraltar while the others have No Other Grave than the Sea.
HMS Britannia and her lost crewmembers have been memorialized in no less than 42 locations around the UK, led by the Plymouth Naval Memorial that commemorates more than 7,200 Royal Navy personnel and 75 sailors of the Royal Australian Navy who died during the Great War.
Plymouth Naval Memorial
With her remains on the bottom of the Atlantic, the only relics of her in circulation are period postcards.
Meanwhile, Combrig has a detailed scale model of her.
Britannia, Combrig
Her last skipper, Caufield, was given command of the Bellerophon class dreadnought HMS Temeraire on 13 February 1919 then shifted to the Retired List in 1920 with the rank of Rear Admiral, capping a 28-year career. It was while on the list that he was increased to Vice Admiral in 1925. He was made a Commander of the Order of the British Empire by order of King George V in the 1936 New Year Honours.
Vice-Admiral Francis Wade Caulfeild, C.B.E passed in 1947, at age 75.
As for UB 50, she made it home to a collapsing Germany and, on 16 January 1919, was surrendered to the Allies. Awarded to Britain as a trophy ship, she was broken up in Swansea in 1922.
UB 50’s final skipper, Oblt. Kukat, who held both the EK1 and EK2 and was a Komtur of the Königlicher Hausorden von Hohenzollern, threw in with the Freikorps crowd in the violent post-war era before the Weimar Republic and, as a company commander with Marine-Brigade von Loewenfeld, was killed in a clash in Bottrop during the Ruhr uprising in 1920, dead at 29. He was the only former U-boat captain killed in Freikorps service and those who served with him during the Great War including famed evangelist Martin Niemöller and some guy named Karl Dönitz spoke highly of him.
Oblt. Heinrich Kukat is listed on the memorial marker of the Loewenfeld Freikorps in Kirchhellen. Other members of the controversial interwar partisan unit included U-boat “ace of aces” Lothar von Arnauld de la Perière and future Abwehr boss, Wilhelm Canaris.
While the name Britannia did not grace another RN warship after 1918, the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth carried the name HMS Britannia as a Naval Shore Establishment after 1906, one that was retained until 1953 when the college simply became HMS Dartmouth and the name Britannia was issued to the newly launched royal yacht HMY Britannia, which in turn remained in service until 1997.
The Royal Yacht Britannia at the 1977 Spithead Fleet Review on the occasion of the Silver Jubilee of the reign of Queen Elisabeth II. In her 43-year career, she sailed over a million miles and visited 600 ports. She is preserved as part of The Royal Yacht Britannia Trust as a pier-side museum in Edinburgh.
Ships are more than steel and wood And heart of burning coal, For those who sail upon them know That some ships have a soul.
If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International
The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.
With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO, has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.
PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships, you should belong.
The MAREANO project, conducted by the Institute of Marine Research (IMR), the Geological Survey of Norway (NGU), and the Norwegian Mapping Authority, has been mapping the seascape of the Norwegian continental shelf since 2005.
Their most recent Spring expedition on board research vessel G.O. Sars found an aircraft engine and no less than seven wrecks. One appears to be the long-lost T-class submarine HMS Thistle (N 24), located at 160 meters depth outside Rogaland in southwestern Norway.
Built by Vickers pre-war, she was commissioned in July 1939, just less than eight weeks before Hitler sent his legions into Poland and sparked WWII. She conducted six war patrols off the German/Jutland coast and vanished during her seventh with skipper LCDR W.F. Haselfoot, RN, and all 52 hands while off the coast of Norway.
Post-war analysis shows her to be lost on 10 April 1940 during the initial phases of the German invasion of that country, sent to the bottom by two torpedos from the school boat U-4 (Oblt. Hans-Peter Hinsch).
HMS Keith
HMS Keith
In related news, the B-class destroyer flotilla leader HMS Keith (D 06), lost during the Dynamo evacuations from Dunkirk on 1 June 1940, sunk by German Stuka dive bombers in just 23 meters of water, has been located and mapped via multibeam sonar from the French DRASSM agency.
80 years ago today, the only (known) World War II military installation conducted by Germany in North America was erected.
On 22 October 1943, the Type IXC/40 submarine U-537 (Kptlt. Peter Schrewe) of the 10. Flottille out of Lorient in occupied France arrived at remote Martin Bay (Naukjuke Bay) at the northern tip of Labrador with a special cargo– Wetter-Funkgerät Land (Weather Radio for Land) No. 26.
Type IXC/40 submarine U-537 at anchor in Martin Bay, Labrador, Dominion of Newfoundland (now Canada) on 22 Oct 1943. Crewmen can be seen on deck offloading components of Weather Station Kurt into rubber rafts. The photo was taken ashore from the Hutton peninsula by one of U-537’s crew. (Photo Bundesarchiv via ww2dbase)
Manufactured by Siemens, WFL-26 consisted of a variety of meteorological instruments, a 150-watt Lorenz 150 FK-type transmitter with a 33-foot antenna on a tripod base, a shorter pole with instruments, and ten interconnected 220-pound canisters with nickel-cadmium and dry-cell high-voltage batteries.
Schematic of a German WFL manufactured by the Siemens-Schuckert corporation. It had been designed by Drs. Dr. Ernest Ploetze and Edwin Stoebe. The schematic was saved by Siemens employee Franz Selinger who would supply it to the Canadian government in 1980
Under the direction of embarked passenger Dr. Kurt Sommermeyer and Siemens technician Walter Hildebrant, U-537’s crew spent two windswept days in Canadian waters shuttling canisters ashore and erecting what was to be known as Wetterstation Kurt (Weather Station Kurt) on top of a small hill with a good view of the horizon some 400 yards in from the beach.
German Weather Station Kurt set up on the Hutton Peninsula, Labrador, Dominion of Newfoundland on 22 October 1943. You can make out the “Canadian Meteor Service” and WFL-26 markings (Bundesarchiv)
To camouflage the nature of the station, rather than being marked “Secret Nazzi Weather Stuff,” the canisters were carefully sanitized to only have numbers and fictional “Canadian Meteor Service” markings. At the same time, empty packs of Camel cigarettes and other North American items were salted around the site.
On the 24th U-537 continued on its way, with Sommermeyer verifying Kurt was up and running, broadcasting readings on 3940 kHz every three hours.
Civilian technician Dr. Kurt Sommermeyer aboard U-537 in the Labrador Sea listening to signals transmitted by Weather Station Kurt broadcasting from the Labrador coast, 24 Oct 1943. (Bundesarchiv)
However, for unknown reasons, Kurt, which had planned to transmit for at least six months if not a year, halted its readings after just a month and the Germans never made an effort to revisit the site to affect repairs.
The first time anyone in Canada found the site (and reported it) was when government geomorphologist Peter Johnson came across it in 1977 while researching the area as part of the two-year Torngat Archaeological Project which cataloged 450 km of coastline and just under 350 sites along the Labrador Coast, thinking it was an old Canadian Weather Service or RCN installation.
A German researcher, Franz Selinger, formerly of Siemens, seeing images of the station, alerted Ottawa as to the likelihood that the mysterious station was the lost Herr Kurt.
Still, it wasn’t until 1981 that the Canadian Coast Guard responded to it and examined the damaged and rusting site in an expedition led by Department of National Defence historian W.A.B. Douglas. Reportedly, some parts were missing, but the canisters, tripod, and mast, and some of the old dry-cell batteries were left to identify.
Canadian Coast Guard shore party made the first examination of the remnants of German Weather Station Kurt on the Hutton Peninsula, Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada on 21 Jul 1981, 38 years after it was deployed. Photo via ww2dbase
Partially recovered and restored, WFL-26 is on display at the Canadian War Museum in Ottawa.
Kurt, is still quiet but no longer beach litter.
As for U-537, she arrived back at Lorient uneventfully on 8 December 1943 and, was dispatched to the Far East to operate with 33. Flottille out of Penang. She was lost on 10 November 1944 east of Soerabaja, sunk by the Gato-class fleet boat USS Flounder (SS-251), taking all hands to the bottom of the Java Sea.
The modern Tridente-class submarine, a unique fuel cell AIP variant of the German Type 209PN/Type 214PN, has been in operation since 2010 with the Portuguese Navy. While three were envisioned, just two were completed– NRP Tridente (S160) and NRP Arpão (S161).
Tridente-class submarine of the Portuguese navy
The country has made good use of these in recent deployments and in bird-dogging passing Russian warships. Speaking to the former, Arpão in August wrapped up a 120-day patrol as part of the Open Sea Initiative 23.2, in the South Atlantic, which contributed to strengthening military and diplomatic relations between Portugal and each of the countries visited — Cape Verde, Brazil, South Africa, Angola, and Morocco– having traveled more than 13,000 miles and spent over 2,500 hours underway.
She reportedly covered the length of the African continent submerged in 15 days.
Arpão (FrigCapt. Taveira Pinto) arrived in Lisbon in August after her deployment which made her the first Portuguese submarine to carry out an equator-crossing mission.
Interestingly, her 35-member crew is co-ed.
You have to love Arpão’s patch. Of note, Arpão means “Harpoon”
Turning around just 60 days later, Arpão has deployed again, this time to the Med as part of NATO’s Operation Sea Guardian, on a patrol that will run into December and include taking part in Dynamic Mariner 23.
She is a good-looking boat for sure.
Portuguese Sub Heritage
As noted in this week’s Warship Wednesday, in 1914 Portugal had a single submarine to its name, a small Fiat-designed La Spezia-built boat, dubbed Espadarte (Swordfish). Ordered in 1910, this 148-foot/300-ton diesel-electric boat would remain in service until 1930.
Espadarte, seen here in Lisbon, was the first sub in the Marinha Portuguesa)
NRP Espadarte, the first Portuguese submarine delivered to the Navy, on April 15, 1913
She was very active, if nothing else providing an OPFOR for the fleet.
ASW training between destroyer NRP Guadiana and submarine NRP Espadarte Portugal 1915
To replace their well-worn little Italian boat and expand their force, Portugal ordered a pair of modified Squalo class boats from C.R.D.A in Trieste in 1931. However, Mussolini ordered them seized on the ways in 1935 and pressed into service as the Glauco class off Spain, where the Italian “pirate submarine” fleet was very active.
To replace the undelivered Italian boats, Portugal turned to Vickers in Britain for a pair of 227-foot/1,000 ton boats that could carry a dozen torpedos and have a 5,000nm endurance while carrying a very English 4-inch gun in a streamlined semi-turret forward of the sail. All three– Delfim, Espadarte, and Golfinho were delivered in May 1934 and remained active through WWII.
The Vickers built Delfim class, as described in the 1946 ed of Jane’s
Class leader Delfim. Note the “D” on her fairwater as a designator. Logically, Golfinho carried a “G” while Espadarte had an “E”. The forward streamlined QF 4-inch (102 mm) Mk XII deck gun mount was similar to that seen on the RN’s O-class and, on a smaller scale, to the four-gunned experimental HMS X-1 cruiser submarine of the same era.
To replace the Vickers boats, Portugal managed to pick up a trio of WWII surplus British 217-foot/990-ton S-class boats in 1948: HMS Spur/NRP Narval (S160), HMS Saga/NRP Náutilo (S161), and HMS Spearhead/NRP Neptuno (S162).
These remained in service into the late 1960s.
British RN S-class submarine HMS Spearhead, as NRP Neptuno (S162) in Portugal service 1950s
Then, in 1967, Portugal ordered a four-pack of French Daphné type SSKs that entered service as the Albacora-class by the end of the decade.
While one– NRP Cachalote (S165)— was sold to Pakistan after the Carnation Revolution and the military fell out of favor, the other three (Albacora S163, Barracuda S164, and Delfim S166) would be retained into the 2000s, replaced by the current German boats.
NRP Barracuda was NATO’s oldest active submarine when she was decommissioned in 2010. Laid down by the Dubigeon Shipyards of France in 1967, she is preserved as a museum ship in Portugal.
Warship Wednesday, Oct. 18, 2023: The Duel of the Deputado and the Knight
Above we see the humble ocean patrol boat (patrulhas de alto mar) Augusto de Castilho of the Portuguese Navy around 1918. If she looks a lot like a cod trawler with a couple of pop guns bolted on as an afterthought, you are correct.
However, her crew was filled with lions, and led by a lawmaker, she foiled one of the Kaiser’s best, some 105 years ago this week.
The Marina do Portugal in the Great War
When the lights went out across Europe in August 1914, Portugal had a decent modern fleet…planned. This included a naval program with a pair of British-built 20,000-ton dreadnoughts, three new cruisers to scout for them, a dozen new 820-ton destroyers to screen for them, and a half dozen new submarines to do underwater stuff.
What they had on hand was a bit different.
The force consisted of the circa 1875 coastal defense “battleship” (cruzador-couraçado) Vasco da Gama and five smallish cruisers (none newer than 1898). Exemplified by prior Warship Wednesday alum Adamastor (1757 tons, 2×6″, 4×4.7″, 2 tt, 18 kts), these cruisers were slow and slight, meant primarily to show the flag in the fading empire’s overseas African and Asian colonies. Augmenting these aging cruisers were a handful of destroyers, torpedo boats, colonial gunboats, and a single Italian Fiat-made submarine.
“Navios da Marinha de Guerra Portugueza no alto “Mar 1903 by Alfredo Roque Gamerio, showing the revamped fleet with the “cruzadors” Vasco da Gama, Don Carlos I, São Rafael, Amelia, and Adamastor to the far right. Note the black hulls and buff stacks/masts. The fact that these ships were all ordered from British, French, and Italian yards at the same time had to have made for some awkward fleet operations, not to mention logistics and training issues.
Meanwhile, the Portuguese merchant fleet, consisting of 66 steamers (totaling 70,000 tons) and 259 sailing ships (totaling another 44,000 tons), needed protecting in the event of a modern anti-commerce U-boat war while offering few vessels ideal to convert to auxiliary cruisers and escorts.
While German and Portuguese colonial troops in Africa were soon fighting each other, and Portugal interned over 30 German and Austrian merchant ships trapped in its ports in 1914– saving them from British and French capture– the three countries did not officially exchange declarations of war until March 1916. That does not mean that little Portugal’s steamers and sailing ships were safe by any means.
The first Portuguese-flagged merchant lost to the conflict was the 248-ton 3-masted schooner Douro sunk off the Wolf Lighthouse in the Scilly Islands on 3 April 1915 (although some sources report the 1,633-ton steamer Mira was sunk on 24 November 1914). In all, no less than 89 Portuguese merchant vessels were lost during the war.
This sets the stage for our story.
Meet Augusto de Castilho
The Bensaúde-owned four-masted fishing schooner Argus, which ranged from the Azores to the Grand Banks searching for cod along with near sisters Creoula and Hortense. Working these vessels the old way was hard, using small dories that would run lines as long as 20 hours a day and return home to Sapal do Rio Coina in Portugal with cod loaded to the gunnels. The Bensaúde family harvested fish this way going back to the 1820s and by 1909 were looking to change.
Our subject was ordered by the firm of Parceria Geral de Pescarias, Lda. (PGP. trans: General Fisheries Partnership), Lisbon, a commercial fishing enterprise founded in 1891 and run largely by the Bensaúde family. Chiefly operating in the Azores, PGP in the early 1900s embarked on a move to modernize its operations by ordering steel-hulled ships for its fleet and beginning the use of artificial drying for cod harvesting.
The company’s first steel-hull steam trawler designed for cod, named the Elite, was ordered from Cochrane & Sons, Selby in Yorkshire as Yard No 453. Launched on 22 April 1909, she was delivered to PGP that same July.
Lloyds lists her as a steel-hulled steam trawler of some 487 tons with an overall length of 160 feet, a beam of 27 and a draft of just over 14. She had an Amos & Smith triple expansion steam engine that could generate 117 nhp on a single shaft, good for 12 knots. Deeply framed, she had electric lighting and a steam-powered hoist.
I cannot find an image of Elite in her PGP days. This is probably because they were brief as she was requisitioned by the Portuguese navy on 13 June 1916, three months after Lisbon, Berlin and Vienna exchanged official declarations of war.
War!
The Portuguese navy requisitioned eleven large trawlers and used eight of these as minesweepers (caça-minas) while three (República, Almirante Paço D’Arcos, and Augusto de Castilho) were equipped for both patrol and sweeping.
Elite entered service soon after as Augusto de Castilho, after Admiral Augusto Vidal de Castilho Barreto e Noronha, who capped a 49-year career in 1908 by becoming minister of the navy and overseas possessions (Ministério da Marinha e Ultramar) before passing in 1912 at age 71. He was also the brother of noted journalist and writer Julio de Castilho, and son of scholar António Feliciano de Castilho, known for developing the Castilho Method of teaching.
ADM Augusto de Castilho (1841-1912)
The fishing vessel’s transformation to a warship simply saw her land her fishing gear, add a paravane that could be used for mechanical minesweeping through the assistance of her existing blocks and hoist, and then mounted a 47mm/40 M1885 QF 3-pounder Hotchkiss over her stern. Later a French-made 65mm/50 M1891 Schneider 9-pounder was installed forward.
So converted and manned by a 41-member crew (nominally two officers, 3 NCOs, 36 enlisted), she reported a top speed of just 9 knots.
Her first skipper, LT Augusto de Almeida Teixeira, while escorting the steamer Loanda between Lisbon and Funchal on 23 March 1918, reportedly opened fire on a German U-boat which immediately dived.
Her next skipper also had a brush with an enemy submarine, with 1LT (Primeiro-tenente) Fernando de Oliveira Pinto, on 21 August 1918, opening fire on a U-boat on the surface off Cape Raso.
Augusto de Castilho’s third skipper, 1LT José Botelho de Carvalho Araújo, assumed command of our little minesweeper in late September 1918. The 37-year-old career naval officer joined the naval academy as a midshipman in 1899 and had served in most of its surface ships including the old ironclad Vasco da Gama, the cruisers Adamastor and São Rafael, the gunboats Zambeze, Liberal, Diu, and Lúrio; the tug Bérrio, and on the transport Salvador Correia.
He was also a political creature, having taken part in the Navy-led revolutions in 1908 and 1910, was elected as a deputado to the Assembleia Constituinte to form the Portuguese Republic in 1911, and again to represent the city of Penafiel in the Portuguese Congress of 1915.
Carvalho Araújo was also appointed a district governor in Mozambique for 18 months, the latter a common task for promising naval officers as at the time the colonies were under the administration of the navy. For campaigning against the Germans in Africa in 1914-15, he earned the Medalha Militar de Prata.
Araujo’s last command before joining the crew of Augusto de Castilho was the minesweeper Manuel de Azevedo Gomes, who detected and destroyed four German mines near the Lisbon bar in early September 1916.
Araujo onboard Augusto de Castilho. The only other officers assigned to the vessel in October were three midshipmen– Manuel Armando Ferraz, Samuel da Conceição Vieira, and Carlos Elói da Mota Freitas. The crew was fleshed out by six NCOs, a telegraphist, a cook, a corpsman, four teenage cabin boys, and 38 assorted enlisted ratings and sailors, many of whom were recent enlistments.
Although the war was winding down in October 1918, with the Kaiser’s High Seas Fleet in near-mutiny, his Army in France on the verge of catastrophe, the Bulgars quitting the conflict, and the Austrians and Ottomans planning on doing so themselves, the U-boat arm was still very much in the game and Germany’s greatest submarine ace was on the prowl.
The new cruiser submarine, SM U-139, unofficially named Kapitänleutnant Schwieger by her skipper, the aristocratic Kptlt. Lothar von Arnauld de la Perière, was on its first war patrol. Make no mistake that it was a green crew or skipper, however, as Arnauld de la Perière had made 14 patrols in the smaller SM U-35, sinking a staggering 189 merchant vessels and two gunboats for a total of 446,708 GRT before he took the helm of U-139, earning the EK1, EK2, and the coveted “Blue Max” Pour le Mérite in the process.
U-139 claimed her first kills with the sinking of the 3,309-ton British steamer Bylands, and the 2,691-ton Italian freighter Manin, then damaging the RN boarding steamer HMS Perth, on the first day of October off Cape Vilano while haunting convoy HG109. The next day, she sank the 300-ton Portuguese three-master Rio Cavado via naval gunfire some 290 miles off Cape Prior. Arnauld de la Perière was very much a fan of using his deck guns rather than spending a torpedo and took most of his targets in such a manner.
Then, on 14 October, U-139, some 100 miles SW of the Azores, came across a juicy target, the Dixon-built 3,200-ton mixed cargo/passenger paquete liner San Miguel of Portugal’s Empresa Insulana de Navegação (EIN) line.
San Miguel in her peacetime livery. In 1918 she was clad in a mottled zigzag camouflage.
With accommodations for 135 passengers, San Miguel was overloaded with 206 souls in addition to her crew and, with a top speed not exceeding 12 knots, had little chance of outrunning a U-boat.
Sailing from Funchal to Ponta Delgada, San Miguel had the benefit of an escort– our Augusto de Castilho, capable of a blistering 9 knots. Placing his craft between U-139 and the liner, Carvalho Araújo and Arnauld de la Perière fought a two-hour surface gunnery duel as San Miguel lit her boilers red and made for the horizon, escaping undamaged.
With the much larger and better-armed U-boat– carrying a pair of 5.9-inch SK L/45 deck guns– versus the converted fishing boat’s lighter guns, the contest was never in any doubt. In the end, the battered Augusto de Castilho, ammunition exhausted, her telegraph and engine out of action, her wheelhouse peppered, her skipper and five men killed, along with another 20 men injured, struck her flag on the order of the wounded Midshipman Armando Ferraz.
Ever the old-school gentleman raider, Arnauld de la Perière allowed the crew of the surrendered vessel who had jumped ship to return to their vessel and stock two whaleboats with rations, a sextant, a compass, and charts.
The crew of U-139 captured images of the aftermath of the battle.
He then sent over a scuttling crew who found Carvalho Araújo on deck, the ship’s ensign covering his broken body, and sent the Portuguese man-o-war to the bottom with demolition charges.
Both whaleboats eventually made shore, with the larger, carrying 37 survivors, arriving at the island of Santa Maria in the Azores two days later with all but one still alive while the second craft with 12 survivors washed up on the more distant island of São Miguel the next week, having traveled 200 miles via paddle.
Arnauld de la Perière and his U-139 closed their final tally sheet with the sinking of Carvalho Araujo. Returning to Germany, U-139 surrendered to France on 24 November and post-Versailles became the French submarine Halbronn.
Lothar von Arnauld de la Perière survived the war, was retained in the Weimar-era Reichsmarine, taught at the Turkish Naval Academy for several years in the early 1930s, and went on to become a vizeadmiral in the WWII Kriegsmarine before perishing in a plane crash in 1941, aged 54. His record [195 ships sunk (455,871 tons) and 8 ships damaged (34,312 tons)] is unsurpassed, but his chance to add San Miguel to that list was spoiled.
1LT Carvalho Araujo was posthumously promoted to Capitão-Tenente and awarded the Cruz de Guerra de 1.ª Classe and the Ordem Militar da Torre e Espada, do Valor, Lealdade e Mérito.
Epilogue
Notably, the only other Portuguese warship sunk in the Great War besides Augusto de Castilho was NRP Roberto Iven, which was the PGB-owned fishing trawler Lordelo, lost in July 1917 between Cabo da Roca and Cabo Espichel to a mine laid by the German submarine UC-54.
As for PGB and the Bensaúde Group, the original owner of our tough little fishing vessel, they remained in the cod business until 1999 then transferred their archives to the Ílhavo Maritime Museum after they closed up shop. The yard that constructed Augusto de Castilho, Cochrane & Sons, faded into history in 1993 and was Selby’s last shipbuilder. The yard’s plans and files are preserved in the North Yorkshire County Record Office.
Augusto Castilho‘s fight with U-139 is remembered across Portugal in a series of maritime artworks.
Mural in the Museu de Marinha
SM U-cruiser U 139 in a battle with a Portuguese gunboat in October 1918. After a 2 hour battle, NRP Augusto Castilho
Combate do Augusto de Castilho com o U-139. Quadro de F. Namura. Museu de Marinha Portugal RM2572-506
Combate do Augusto Castilho by Elisa Felismino in the Museu de Marinha, showing the death of her skipper
Mural in the Museu de Marinha
In 1970, a corvette, NRP Augusto Castilho (F484) entered service to continue the name. She remained on active duty until 2003 and was disposed of in 2010.
BCM-Arquivo Histórico, corvette Augusto Castilho in Lisbon, April 25, 1999 BCM-AH_APEGM_12_41
As for the heroic lost naval hero Carvalho Araújo, streets in no less than 34 Portuguese municipalities bear his name while a bronze statue sculpted by Artur Anjos Teixeira was installed in Vila Real in 1931 and is frequently rendered military honors.
The statue of Carvalho Araújo has its hands clenched defiantly.
The EIN line, whose SS San Miguel survived the war and continued to operate until 1930, replaced her with a new 4,568 GRT Italian-built packet liner named SS Carvalho Araújo.
She continued to sail into the 1970s, and, fittingly for her namesake, often carried Portuguese troops back and forth to Africa.
Ships are more than steel and wood And heart of burning coal, For those who sail upon them know That some ships have a soul.
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Here we see the bow of the rare Type UE II ocean minelayer submarine, SM U-124, sometime in late 1918 after her surrender, likely in Harwich, England. Just below her net cutter is a shell hole (“sheel hole” as written on the period photo) which has been used as the focus of a shark’s mouth illustration applied sometime after.
National Museum of the U.S. Navy, Lot 9706-8
In all, some 176 surrendered German U-boats, many in poor material condition, were gathered under the watchful eyes of a combined Allied fleet at Harwich between November 1918 and March 1919.
Two other photos of U-124 exist, with official captions noted, likely taken at Harwich.
“German submarine, U 124, bow view, starboard side. Note, the sheel hole and net cutter. Lot 9706-12”
A German submarine, U 124, with her single 15 cm (5.9 in) SK L/45 deck gun on deck. Note, the somewhat famous American submarine USS AL2 (aka USS L-2 SS-41) in the background.
There were only 9 Type UE II submarines commissioned into the Kaiserliche Marine late in the war (1917-1918), with the tenth, SM U-121, never completed.
Our subject, U-124, was only commissioned on 12 July 1918 after construction by Blohm & Voss, Hamburg (as Werk 301), and never completed any war patrols. How U-124 earned her “sheel hole” or shark paint job was unknown.
Her only skipper, Kptlt. Rolf Hans Wilhelm Karl Carls, who had already earned two Iron Crosses on the cruiser SMS Breslau in the Black Sea, would go on to become a Ritterkreuz-adorned Generaladmiral in the Kriegsmarine and was killed during an air raid in 1945.
Carls was credited with the naval planning for Operation Weserübung, the invasion of Denmark and Norway in 1940, which worked but shattered the German fleet. When Raeder was cashiered, he recommended Carls as his replacement but the little mustache went with Donitz. Carls shifted to the retired list in 1943 at age 57 and perished in a basement in Schleswig-Holstein during an RAF air raid just two weeks before VE-Day.
More on the Type UE IIs
These minelayers were rather large in terms of Great War U-boats, at some 1,500 tons and 267 feet oal, they were very capable, fitted with a four-pack of bow-mounted 20-inch torpedo tubes with room for 14 fish, a stern with twin 39-inch mine chutes with room for 42 sea mines, and the 5.9 inch SK L/45 deck gun as seen above, with 494 shells.
As they could cruise for some 13,900 nm on an economical diesel-electric plant, they could cross the Atlantic, complete a decent war patrol in U.S. waters that included sowing over three dozen mines and return home.
However, due to their late timing, the UE IIs saw little service, with only three claiming victims. In the end, all nine survived the war and were allocated to the victorious allies post-Versallies.
SM U-117 was one of six Kaiserian subs handed over to the U.S. and, after being dragged across the Atlantic, was sunk as a target for aerial bombing tests conducted by the Navy and Army off the Virginia Capes.
SM U-118 was turned over to France but broke her tow and was washed ashore at Hastings where she was finally broken up in late 1919.
SM U-119 served as René Audry in the French Navy and was eventually broken up in October 1937, the last of the class afloat.
SM U-120 was transferred to Italy in November 1918 and broken up soon after.
