Category Archives: World War One

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

***

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Istanbul (Not Constantinople)

Some 80 years ago this week. Off Istanbul, Turkey, on 5 April 1946.

Here we see the famed Iowa-class fast battleship USS Missouri (BB 63) moored in the Bosporus. She had just brought home for burial the body of the late Turkish Ambassador to the U.S., Mehmet Munir Ertegun. This visit was also aimed at influencing Russian Middle East policy. The Gearing-class destroyer USS Power (DD-839) is at left.

Note that Missouri is wearing a more peacetime solid-blue hull (Measure 22) over her wartime Measure 32/22d camouflage, which she wore through the end of WWII, just seven months prior.  National Archives. Catalog #: 80-G-702557

At right is the infamous Turkish Moltke-class battle cruiser Yavuz Sultan Selim (ex-SMS Goeben), some 36 years old at the time.

When Missouri, the light cruiser Providence (CL-82), and Power had entered the straits on 5 April, Missouri and Yavuz exchanged 19-gun salutes, two great bookends in battlewagon history.

A better look at Missouri on this cruise. Note the Curtiss SC-1 Seahawk floatplane on her catapult. Official caption: “Mediterranean Cruise 1946 of USS Missouri (BB 63). USS Missouri (BB 63) anchored in the harbor of Piraeus, Greece.” 80-GK-9343

Off Istanbul, Turkey, 5-9 April 1946. Missouri center. She had brought the body of the Late Turkish Ambassador to the United States, Mehmet Munir Ertegun, home for burial, on a mission that was also made to influence Soviet Middle East policy. USS Power (DD-839) is at left, and the Turkish Battlecruiser Yavuz (formerly the German Goeben) is at right. The Dolmabahce Mosque is in the foreground. Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. 80-G-366179

The camouflaged Yavuz (Turkish Battlecruiser, 1911, formerly the German Goeben). Off Istanbul, Turkey, in April 1946, during USS Missouri’s visit there. Photographed by Lieutenant Commander Dewey Wrigley. Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. 80-G-376888

Still somewhat capable of at least scratching the paint of a Soviet battleship or providing NGFS against land forces trying to close the strait, when Turkey joined NATO in 1952, Yavuz picked up a B-series hull number (B70) before she was decommissioned in 1954 after 42 years of service (40 of those to the Turks). Even while laid up, she continued to be used as a stationary headquarters for the Battle Fleet until 1960.

Offered as a museum ship to West Germany, and unable to preserve the historic 25,000-ton vessel themselves, Goeben/Yavuz was instead sold by the Turks for scrap to M.K.E. Seyman in 1971, although several relics were preserved.

Check out this great original color clip of the old girl in 1973 as she was preparing for tow to the breakers:

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 25 February 2026: ‘Sorry, Your Bird’

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 25 February 2026: ‘Sorry, Your Bird’

Via The Times History and Encyclopaedia of the War Vol XXI, London 1920 (p.127)

In the above depiction, we see, on the left, HM’s Armed Merchant Cruiser Alcantara (M.94), late of the Royal Mail Steam Packet Co, fighting what appears to be a Norwegian-flagged steamer Rena but was actually the very well-armed German auxiliary cruiser (Hilfskreuzer) SMS Greif, some 110 years ago this week.

It was a cutthroat affair, one of swirling action, six-inch guns, and, finally, torpedoes.

At the end of the day, both ships were at the bottom of the North Sea.

Meet Alcantara

Built at Harland & Wolff, Govan (Yard number 435G) for the RMSP Company’s Southampton-to-South America run, RMS Alcantara was a beautiful A-series ocean liner of some 570 feet in length with a displacement of 15,831 GRT. Carrying one large single funnel, two four-cylinder triple-expansion steam engines drove her two outward screws while a low-pressure steam turbine drove the centerline shaft, enabling the liner to cruise at 18 knots all day.

RMS Alacantara, John Oxley Library, State Library of Queensland. 1_125487

She had accommodation for 1,390 passengers (400 first class, 230 second class, and 760 third class passengers, as well as five holds and a refrigerated cargo space for frozen meat.

Launched 30 October 1913 and completed 28 May 1914, she was preceded in service by her sisters, the Belfast-built RMS Arlanza, Andes, and Almanzora.

Alcantara’s only pre-war commercial cruise was a maiden voyage in June 1914 on RMSP’s route from Southampton to Rio de Janeiro, Montevideo, and Buenos Aires.

Once the Great War kicked off in August 1914, she and several of her sisters were subsequently taken up from trade and quickly modified into armed merchant cruisers. They had lots of company as the Admiralty had over 60 commissioned AMCs employed on patrol– and later convoy protection– during the Great War.

In this, the now HMS Alacantara was fitted with eight BL 6″/40 Mark II naval guns repurposed from old battleships, two 6-pounders, and two 3-pounders. By 10 March 1915, she then joined the Tenth Cruiser Squadron, a catch-all outfit for AMCs that at one time had 33 such vessels on its list, tasked with enforcing the blockade along the Northern Patrol.

Her only wartime skipper was a regular, Capt. Thomas Erskine Wardle, RN, who came aboard on 23 March 1915. Shipping out on the training ship HMS Britannia at the ripe old age of 13 in 1890, Wardle had previously commanded the old battlewagon HMS Canopus in 1909, served as Naval Secretary to the Ordnance Board, and been the skipper of the armored cruiser HMS Crescent and then the small AMC HMS Calyx (formerly SS Calypso) in operations around St Kilda earlier in the war.

Wardle was a scrapper.

Her log books for her 11 months with the Northern Patrol detail she was a busy little searcher, challenging at least 57 ships encountered on the sea and boarding another 77 via small boat despite rough sea states, low temperatures, and howling winds common in the region. During that period, she spent no less than 215 days at sea.

Meet Greif

Meanwhile, the planned 432-foot, 4,962 GRT, steel-hulled ship Guben for the German-Australian Line (DADG) was still on the builder’s ways at Neptun Werft AG, Rostock, when the war began. Unfinished, she was subsequently converted for naval service at Kaiserliche Werft, Kiel in 1915 and commissioned as SMS Greif on 23 January 1916.

The only image I can find of Guben/Grief. Her external appearance was later altered by removing her distinctive second funnel, which was false anyway. She was disguised as the freighter Rena from Tønsberg with large Norwegian flags painted on her sides, plus “NORGE” (Norway)

Slow at just 13 knots on her two-boiler/3,000shp suite, she was armed with four 5.9-inch SK L/40s (two forward abeam, two staggered aft, taken from old battleships) and a single 4-inch SK L/40 hidden aft as well as two 50cm torpedo tubes, one on each side of the bow. and provision to carry as many as 300 mines. Outfitted with an oversized 317-man crew (10 officers, including two doctors; and 307 enlisted– 130 regular navy and 167 reservists), she carried extra manpower to equip prize vessels encountered while on patrol.

Speaking of which, two 2.3-inch landing guns were carried, broken down, for use in arming future raiders of opportunity, ideally in the Indian Ocean.

Her only wartime skipper was Fregattenkapitän Rudolf Tietze, aged 41, previously commander of the old coast defense battleship SMS Wörth, which had been reduced to an accommodations hulk in January 1916.

Inspected on commissioning by Großadmiral Prinz Heinrich von Preußen, Greif was detailed to raid the South Atlantic and work her way into the Indian Ocean. Packing enough coal and canned foodstuffs in her holds for an expected 35,000nm sortie, she also shipped aboard 600 6-inch shells, 200 4-inch shells, 12 torpedoes, an extensive small arms locker, and crates of demolition charges. While designed for mines, I am not positive she carried any.

If unable to return home, Greif’s crew was ordered to attempt to land and join colonial warlord Lettow-Vorbeck, holding out in the rump of German East Africa.

Greif set sail from Cuxhaven on 27 February 1916, following behind the submarine U-70, which would see her through the minefields of the Skagerrak.

Our subjects meet

Naval Intelligence advised Jellicoe that an armed German raider was steaming north from the Skagerrak. On this news, he ordered two light cruisers and four destroyers to sail from Rosyth to secure the English east coast against an advance by the expected German auxiliary cruiser. It was probably initially assumed that Greif would lay mines off one of the English naval bases, similar to what SMS Meteor had done at the time.

In addition, three light/scout cruisers, HMS Calliope, Comus, and Blanche, each accompanied by a destroyer, were sent from Scapa Flow to the Norwegian coast to block the northern route for the enemy. They would soon join the alerted Alcantara, low on coal and due to be relieved by her sister Andes. 

The AMCs Columbella and Patia were tasked with searching north of the Shetlands.

Post-war German reports note that Greif encountered two large British auxiliary cruisers working their searchlights and quietly sending short low-power Morse signals back and forth– surely Alcantara and Andes–while poking some 70 miles off Bergen in the pre-dawn of 29 February 1916, but, halting engines and engaging their smoke device, Greif managed to remain unseen.

At 0855 on the same morning, while some 230 miles east of the Faeroes, Alcantara, with Andes not far off, sighted the Norwegian ship Rena, alerted to the prospect that a German raider was trying to break out into the Atlantic. Alcantara fired two blank charges from her 3-pounder, ordered the ship to stop, and prepared a boarding party to check for contraband.

After much hemming and hawing and back-and-forth challenges, Alcantara and “Rena” closed to within 1,100 yards.

FKpt. Tietze ordered his guns to open up at 0940, and Greif’s initial salvo, as noted by Wardle, “put the tellmotor steering gear, engine room telegraph, and all telephones on the bridge out of action, besides killing and wounding men, and disabled Alcantara’s communications equipment.”

Wardle also noted that Greif, most ungentlemanly, dropped the Norwegian ensign and “fought under no flag.” German accounts later note that her Reichskriegsflagge war ensign had been mounted on a corroded line, which broke, then rose later.

The combat was swirling, with the larger and better-armed Alcantara, which had regained steering control, missing two of Greif’s torpedoes but unfortunately catching the third, while the British gunners raked the raider’s decks, hull, and superstructure.

The raider’s ready ammunition for her stern guns was hit, sparking a secondary explosion and blaze that soon spread to her oil tanks.

Greif’s torpedo officer, one Lt. von Bychelberg, remained on the raider’s burning bridge until that final fatal torpedo was fired at 2,800 meters.

By 1015, “Rena” (Greif) was aflame some 3,500 yards off Alcantara, which was listing. With the enemy fire ceased, Wardle ordered his own guns to stop while likewise passing the word to abandon his own stricken ship.

By 1120, Alcantara was under the waves, her survivors attempting to crowd into 15 lifeboats. As the engagement took place “North of 60,” the water temperature was a balmy 44 degrees F.

Meanwhile, her sister Andes, joined by the faster and more proper cruiser Comus and the destroyer Munster, rapidly arrived on the scene.

View of HMS Comus alongside Swan Hunter & Wigham Richardson shipyard, seen from the south side of the River Tyne, c1915. Equipped with two 6-inch and eight 4-inch guns as well as four torpedo tubes, the 28-knot C-class light cruiser was more than a match for Greif, even if Greif was still in fighting condition when Comus came on the scene. (TWAM ref. DS.SWH/5/3/4/2/B187).

When a round cooked off on the sinking Greif, Comus followed by Andes, opened up on her from 8,000 yards, then, receiving nothing further, signaled, “Sorry, your bird.”

Greif drifted, ablaze, from 1139 to 1212, then sank, carrying 192 of her crew to the bottom, including five of ten officers, her skipper and XO among the lost. With just two of her boats not shot out and generally reserved for use by wounded men, Greif’s survivors grabbed whatever would float that was at hand– ammunition box lids, hatch covers, planking– and took to the water.

Her survivors were picked up by Comus. Post-war German naval tomes report that the remaining officers from Greif were treated well on Comus, fed in the officers’ mess, while the enlisted were “provided for as best as possible.”

Her most senior officer remaining was the navigator, KptLt (Reserve) Jungling, who later compiled a report to the German admiralty in 1919.

Those surviving officers were encamped in Edinburgh Castle, and there found out the extent of British Naval Intelligence’s reach.

Translated from Der Kreuzerkrieg in den ausländischen Gewässern: 

From the interrogation questions posed to the prisoners in Edinburgh Castle by naval officers who spoke fluent German, it emerged that the English knew that the Greif had been moored in the Kiel shipyard next to SMS Lützow and that the Greif crew had been provisioned there initially. Furthermore, it was known that the Greif had been inspected on February 24th by Prince Henry of Prussia and the station commander, Admiral Bachmann. It was also known that the Greif had been anchored in Gelting Bay on February 23rd and 24th.

Her movements out to sea were also apparently known, likely due to decoded signal traffic from U70.

“Alcantara sinks in battle with the German auxiliary cruiser Greif, February 29, 1916” By Willy Stoewer

Alcantara lost 72 with two ratings passing of wounds later in March. Her survivors were picked up by Munster and Comus.

HMS Comus rescuing survivors of the Greif, 29 February 1916. The sinking ship on the left is the Greif, which was finished off by the Comus after being crippled by gunfire from the armed merchant cruisers Andes and Alcantara. The ship shown indistinctly on the far right is probably the Andes since the Greif returned the fire of Alcantara, also managed to torpedo her, and she too sank in the action. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London, Caird Collection

Of note, the Kaislerliche Marine once again tried to send a raider out, the Hilfskreuzer Leopard, disguised as the Norwegian Rena, in 1917. That ended with Leopard being sunk with all hands by the intercepting British cruisers HMS Achilles and Dundee.

Versenkung des deutschen Hilfskreuzers Leopard durch HMS Achilles und HMS Dundee, Art.IWMART15814

Not the first odd twist in this tale.

Epilogue

While FKpt. Tietze, Greif’s skipper, was killed by shrapnel during the sea fight, Capt. Wardle of Alacantra was decorated with a DSO for his gallantry in this fight, then, after a stint with the Naval Intelligence Division, was given command of the light cruiser HMS Lowestoft in the Med, followed by the famed battleship Dreadnought, and, post-war, the cruisers Danae and Calliope. In 1924, he was made Rear-Admiral Commanding, Royal Australian Navy Squadron, a position he held for two years before retiring after a 36-year career.

Appointed Companion of the Order of the Bath, he was made a vice admiral on the Retired List in 1931 and passed in 1944, aged 67.

Vice-Admiral Thomas Erskine Wardle, CB, DSO. Australian War Memorial photos. 

One of Alacantra’s most famed survivors was English stoker and firefighter Arthur John Priest, who had previously survived a collision at age 19 aboard RMS Asturias in 1908, then the collision between RMS Olympic and HMS Hawk in 1911, the sinking of the RMS Titanic (1912) and the loss by mine of HM Hospital Ship Britannic (November 1916), then would go on to be an albatross of sorts on his old ship, HMHS Asturias (torpedoed and beached March 20-21st, 1917), and the SS Donegal (sunk in April 1917). Priest, “The Unsinkable Stoker,” subsequently left sea work and spent the rest of his life on dry land in Southampton, passing in 1937 at the age of 49.

Shifting to more infamous survivors, Greif’s waterlogged ship’s doctor from the raider’s decimated wardroom, Assistant Naval Surgeon (Reserve) Hans Gerhard Creutzfeldt, went on to become a fairly well-known psychiatrist and neuroscientist. After spending just three months in a British POW camp, he was part of a prisoner exchange and spent the rest of the war assigned to the German naval mission to Constantinople, where he was discharged in 1919. He went on to discover Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease and had a rather “complicated” working relationship with the SS during WWII that is beyond our scope.

In a curious twist of fate, the later Royal Mail Lines steamer RMS Alcantara, built by Harland & Wolff in 1926, was taken up in WWII and used as an AMC for three years. She also encountered a German raider at sea, the Hilfskreuzer Thor, with both ships landing hits on each other in the South Atlantic in 1940, then mutually breaking off the fight and limping away.

HM Armed Merchant Cruiser Alcantara (1926) showing battle damage while anchored off Brazil in August 1940 with the Kriegsmarine raider Thor

Sometimes history is like a carousel. You see the same horses over and over.

Thanks for reading!

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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A ‘Prestigious Man Stopper’ The Mark VI Webley .455

With a story that runs nearly the entire length of the 20th Century, the iconic top-break British Webley in .455 Caliber Eley is a beast.

My personal interest in the Webley, specifically the bonkers-large Mark VI, which entered service with a 6-inch barrel standard, dates to watching old war movies and TV shows as a kid in the 1970s and 80s, and there were plenty to choose from.

According to IMFDB, they appeared in the hands of Gary Cooper, Peter Lorre, Peter O’ Toole (several times, including “Lawrence of Arabia”), Clark Gable, Richard Burton, Gregory Peck, Bob Hoskins (anachronistically in “Zulu Dawn” of all things!), Burt Lancaster, James Keach, Edward Woodward, Michael Crawford, Christopher Lee, and so on.

It was just a commanding piece.

I mean, look at it:

Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The Mark VI Webley .455 (All photos unless noted: Chris Eger/Guns.com)
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The Mark VI runs almost a foot long, taping out at 11.25 inches. It weighs 2.5 pounds, unloaded. 

Plus, the beautiful rimmed .455 rounds are short and almost comically fat. Stout like a British bulldog. A sumo wrestler compared to the more puny contemporaries such as the 8mm French used in that country’s M1892 revolver, the Russian 7.65×38 used in the Tsarist-era Nagant, and the rimmed 9mm round used by the Japanese Type 26 revolver (the latter of which only generated a velocity of about 500 fps!).

Webley Mark VI .455 revolver bullet
The .455 Webley (right), in this case a 262-grain lead round-nosed Mk.II bullet, compared to a 230-grain .45 ACP FMJ, a bullet familiar to readers this side of the pond. The .455 was introduced in 1891, whereas Browning’s .45 ACP dated to about two decades later. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
When loaded with .455, the unmodified Webley Mark VI has a decent cylinder lock-up with minimal gap. 

I recall reading a book on guerrilla warfare weapons, published in 1990, that noted the Webley was still often encountered in the hands of insurgents as flotsam from the old British colonial empire and was “a prestigious man stopper.”

Only it wasn’t really.

Sure, any time you get hit by a 218-265 grain bullet, it is going to smart, but, seeing as the projectile typically only traveled at about 600 to 750 fps, the energy imparted on impact was only in the 220-300 ft./lb. range, which is about on average to what you get out of .38 Special (and that’s not even +P loads, either). This was compounded by at least five different generations of service bullets and loads for the .455, all attempting to make it more effective, though they never came close to modern self-defense designs.

But, when used at bad-breath range against the Kaiser’s skinny Landsers on the Western Front in 1915, or poorly clad indigenous warriors and bandits in far-off lands who are probably already fighting parasites and poor diets, it likely worked just fine.

Still, the large 2.5-pound square-butt revolver could prove a useful club when needed.

Fairburn and Sykes, who knew a thing or ten about the Webley in service, had the following passage in their 1942 “Shooting to Live” Commando primer in the chapter on “Stopping Power.”

We shall choose for our first instance one relating to the big lead bullet driven at a moderate velocity. On this occasion, a Sikh constable fired six shots with his .455 Webley at an armed criminal of whom he was in pursuit, registering five hits. The criminal continued to run, and so did the Sikh, the latter clinching the matter finally by battering in the back of the criminal’s head with the butt of his revolver. Subsequent investigations showed that one bullet only, and that barely deformed, remained in the body, the other four having passed clean through.

Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
“Stopping Power!” as debated in 1942.

A closer look at the gun

The Webley top-break revolver itself dates to the company’s original Mark I service revolver, which was adopted by the British military in 1887, starting around £3 each, and a host of generational changes until the wheel gun seen in this piece, the Mark VI, arrived on the scene in May 1915.

A top-break six-shooter, it replaced the shorter Mark V, which had a rounded bird’s head style grip, with a much larger gun using a squared butt, 6-inch barrel, and a somewhat adjustable front sight. Best yet for His Majesty’s bean counters, the wartime finish Mark VI only cost some 51 shillings per gun, or about £2.5.

More gun for less money has always been popular.

Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The Webley Mark VI was the end-result of nearly 30-years of Webley top-break revolvers and shared much DNA with its predecessors. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
It is akin in size to the big 5.5-inch barreled S&W DA 45, which was adopted as the M1917 by the U.S. military about the same time the Webley Mark VI entered service. The DA 45 was one of Smith’s first N-frames. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The double-action/single-action Webley Mark VI has a stout double-action trigger pull (we couldn’t gauge it; it kept maxing out), cutting to a truly short and crisp 8-pound single-action pull that is all-wall. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The hammer is very old-school. No transfer bar safety here. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The large lever, under the hammer and over the rear sight, frees up the top strap of the revolver. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The star extractor positively ejects all spent brass and live rounds when the action is opened. 

Approximately 280,000 Mark VI Service models were produced during the war, starting around serial number 135,000. Our example, featured in this article, is serial number 245,288, bearing a 1917 Webley roll mark on the frame, along with corresponding Birmingham proof marks and British military broad arrow and GR acceptance marks. These weapons were not only issued to officers and sergeants but also to artillery, machine gun, and tank crews. They saw further hard use in trench raids and tunnel warfare under said trenches.

Better-grade models of the same gun, based on the old W&S Target, but with a higher fit and finish, were available for personal purchase through the Army & Navy Co-operative store. Many gentlemen officers chose to acquire their Webley in such a fashion, while others simply went with the issued revolver. Aftermarket accessories included the early Prideaux and Watson pattern speed loaders, and the Greener-produced Pritchett bayonet, although none were made in quantity.

Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The large lanyard ring on the bottom of the butt came in handy not only in the trenches but in mounted service. You didn’t want your Webley to bounce out of the holster while on the trot. 

Second Lieutenant JRR Tolkien, the future author of “The Hobbit” and “The Lord of the Rings,” shipped off for France a year after graduating from Oxford. As a young officer with the 11th Battalion, Lancashire Fusiliers, in June 1916, he saw service at the grueling military charnel house that was the Battle of the Somme, where some 57,000 casualties were suffered in the first day alone– making it the bloodiest day in British military history. Both at the Somme and a later trench raid near Thiepval, Tolkien had with him an early first-year Mark VI Service, serial number 169,710. It is now in the Imperial War Museum, complete with its lanyard.

The Mark VI also saw service in the sky and on the sea.

Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
A British Royal Flying Corps field armory in France, circa 1918. Note the assorted Webley Mark VIs for use by pilots and observers who were frequently left walking back across No Man’s Land after their flying machines were shot down or broke down. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The Webley also saw service afloat with the Royal Navy for use in boarding parties and landing parties ashore. (Photos: Imperial War Museum)
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
As the RN saw extensive service against pirates, smugglers, revolutionaries, and bandits in the 1920s and 30s, you can bet the old Webley was there on the sharp end of things. Some think that the coup de grace delivered to Rasputin in December 1916 came from Oswald Rayner, a British MI6 agent in Petrograd, who used a Webley, possibly obtained from the small arms locker of a British submarine working with the Russian fleet in the Baltic. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The Webley Mark VI was officially augmented and then replaced in service with the remarkably similar but .38 caliber Enfield No. 2 in 1932 (left). Before that, the Royal Small Arms Factory at Enfield Lock built around 30,000 Webley Mark VI pattern revolvers between 1921 and 1926. 

While officially replaced, the big .455 Webley remained in secondary service and was even preferred by many as their go-to sidearm.

Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
By the 1930s, the leather Sam Browne style holsters had been replaced by simpler canvas holsters, typically worn butt-forward. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The old Webley saw extensive service in World War II, as well as in Korea, and anecdotally with Australian troops in Vietnam, and Rhodesian and South African troops in the Bush Wars of the 1970s. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
Further, the Webley was seen with “Dad’s Army” in the Home Guard, an initially almost unarmed force that peaked at some 1.7 million volunteers ready to take on Mr. Hitler should he send his legions across the Channel. As the Home Guard often used long-retired Great War-era officers in senior positions, they brought their personally owned Army & Navy store pedigree Mark VIs back to service with them. In early units, they were often the only firearms available, save for some fowling pieces. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
Ultimately, the Browning Hi-Power L9A1 would replace all top-break revolvers in British service starting in 1954. 

An Irish tale

The Webley Mark VI entered Irish service in several ways, both via IRA-looted police, British Army, and auxiliary barracks during the 1919 to 1921 Irish War of Independence, and as guns handed over to the new Provisional pro-treaty government in 1922 and subsequently used against the anti-treaty IRA during the follow-on Irish Civil War. The Oglaigh na hÉireann (IRA) circulated printed training memos on the Mark VIas early as November 1921.

Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The new Irish Free State government received at least 7,000 Webley Mark VIs in 1922, which were used extensively to fight the IRA, who were often armed with Mark VIs themselves. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
Our specimen has had its serial number on its barrel assembly and frame aggressively crossed out and replaced with a simple “N.125,” which, per Webley experts Chamberlain and Taylerson, is common for Webleys taken up by Irish forces in the 1920s. 

A circa 1917 Mark VI was recovered from the late General Michael Collins after he was killed in an anti-Treaty ambush in West Cork in 1922. The same year, another circa 1917 Mark VI was used in the assassination of anti-Irish  British Field-Marshal Sir Henry Wilson in London.

Second-hand Shaved Webleys

With the adoption of the Browning Hi-Power in British —and later Commonwealth —service in the 1950s, the final stocks of Webley Mark VIs began to move into the commercial market.

Surplus Irish guns met a similar fate when Sam Cummings of Alexandria, Virginia-based Interarmco (Interarms) made a sweet deal with the Dublin government in 1959 for almost all of the old Republic’s unneeded hardware at scrap-per-ton cash-and-carry prices including a couple hundred Model 1921 Thompsons, 801 Lewis guns, 9 water-cooled Vickers machine guns, 17 Mark I and Mark II 18-pounder field guns, 22 4.5-inch howitzers, four 3-inch anti-artillery guns, 51 Browning aircraft machine guns, pallets of Enfield .303 rifles, and crates of Webley revolvers.

The Webleys were soon sold off through mail order outlets, Hunters’ Lodge, Potomac Arms, and others, for the bargain basement price of $14.50 in NRA Good condition and $19.95 in NRA Very Good Condition with .455 milsurp rounds at a pricy $1.50 per 24 (two, 12-round paper packets). Adjusted for inflation, that’s $165-$225 per revolver, and $17 for 24 rounds of ammo.

Eventually, the stock of Webleys outlasted the stock of surplus .455 and British ammo makers such as Kynoch and Eley trimmed back on production of new cartridges, further driving up the price of the increasingly hard-to-find rounds. To sate the demand, distributors by the 1960s hit on the concept of shaving the rear of the Webley’s six-shot cylinder to allow the rimless .45 ACP round to work* in a pinch, if used in company with half-moon clips as used with the old M1917 DA .45 revolvers. The .45 Auto Rim, made for use with the M1917 sans clips, would work as well.

Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The .45 ACP shaved cylinder job needed half-moon three-round clips to work. A “full-moon” six-shot clip will sometimes work, depending on the clip. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
Comparing a shaved Webley cylinder (left) and an intact .455 cylinder (right) with the old GR acceptance marks and proofs giving the latter away. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
Note the difference in cylinder length, with the intact cylinder on top having more “beef” around the serial number, while the shaved .45 ACP cylinder on the bottom has less room around its serial. 
Webley Mark VI .455 revolver
The lever that secures the cylinder to the barrel assembly uses a coin-slotted screw designed to use the rim of a .303 cartridge or a “bob” (British shilling/5-pence coin). We found a 1976 Bicentennial quarter to work fine. 

*A word of strong warning should be imparted when talking about using .45 ACP in a .455 Webley. It is inadvisable to run full-power commercial .45 ACP in any top-break revolver, including one of those beefy, seemingly indestructible Webley Mark VIs. Special low-power loads (under 13,200 psi vs the standard pressure of 21,000 psi seen in regular loads) are now on the market, made by Steinel specifically for use in shaved cylinder Mark VIs.

Speaking of ammo, Bannerman (Graf), Fiocchi, and Steinel all make new runs of .455 Eley/Webley loads as well, running about $60-$70 for a box of 50. Other than that, running this old revolver is more in the realm of handloaders who dig heavy bullets over small loads, but it is better than just having a “wall hanger.”

No matter what the backstory on this gun, it remains a “Cool Revolver.”

Just ask John Wick.

John Wick Webley
The Webley Mark VI made cameos in both “John Wick 3” and 4, continuing a nearly 100-year cinematic run. (Photo: IMFDB)

Polar Bears in the trees…

With all of these polar vortices and bombs recently (I mean, we just had like 11 days in a row that hit below freezing on the Mississippi Gulf Coast), these images from roughly 107 years ago seemed appropriate.

Take a look at this photo, know it is in Northern Russia, February 1919, and ask yourself the nationality of the snow-camo-ed troopers masking themselves among the birch, pines, spruces, and larches of the region.

U.S. Signal Corps photo 111-SC-161113 via NARA.

If you guessed American, you are right, as they are the “Polar Bears” of the U.S. 339th Infantry Regiment (a Wisconsin-Michigan outfit) that fought in North Russia in 1918-19 against the “Reds.”

As the 339th, who unenthusiastically used American-made Mosins in combat against Russians, who unenthusiastically sometimes used lever-action Winchesters against the “Interventy” (Interventionists), I always thought the campaign bordered on the absurd.

The official caption for the above image:

American Soldiers on patrol wear white capes to reduce the chances of discovery while operating in the snow-blanketed forests, which line the Vologda railroad line on each side. Left to right: Bugler Charles Metcalf, Company I; Private Harold Holliday, Company M; and Sgt. Major Ernest Reed, 3rd Battalion, 339th Infantry, 85th Division, February 21, 1919. 111-SC-161113

And these others from the same period:

Blockhouse at Verst 455 on the Vologada Railway, surrounded by the forest, white with a new covering of snow. Photo taken on one of the coldest days of the year, when the temperature reached a point 50 degrees below zero. The American soldier in the foreground is Corporal Hearn of Company I, 339th Infantry, 85th. Division Verst 455, Vologda Railroad front, Northern Russia. 17 February 1919. 111-SC-161081

339th Inf in Russia Verst 455, Vologda Railway Front Feb 1919, with Mosins and Lewis guns. The Lewis was also probably chambered in 7.62x54R (30 cal Russian), drawn from U.S. Savage-made stockpiles originally contracted by the Tsar. 111-SC-161112

339th Inf in Russia Verst 455 Volgada Railway front Feb 1919 Mosins 111-SC-161090.

The 339th served in Russia from September 1918 to June 1919, rather involuntarily clocking in during the Russian Civil War with their more supportable Mosins, then shipped back to a much more agreeable service in post-Great War springtime France, where they were all too happy to get their M1917 Enfields back before shipping home, arriving back in the Midwest in July, wrapping their confusing, and bitter, war.

Warship Wednesday 4 February 2026: Big Guns, Shallow Waters

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 4 February 2026: Big Guns, Shallow Waters

Above, we see the immaculate 15-inch gunned Erebus-class monitor HMS Terror (I03) leaving Malta’s Grand Harbor in October 1933 on her way to serve as the station ship in Singapore for the rest of the decade. Note the Revenge-class battlewagon HMS Resolution (09) in the background.

A Great War vet with the battle honors to prove it, Terror would return to the Med and fight her last battle some 85 years ago this month.

A 101 on British Great War monitors

A relic of the mid-19th Century, the shallow draft monitor unexpectedly popped back into service with the Royal Navy in 1914 when the Admiralty acquired a trio of 1,500-ton Brazilian ships (the future HMS Humber, Mersey and Severn) being built at Vickers which carried 6- and 4.7-inch guns while being able to float in just six feet of water, having been designed for use on the Amazon. The idea was these would be crackers for use off the coast of France and Belgium, as well as against Johnny Turk in the Dardanelles, and in steaming up African rivers to sink hiding German cruisers– all missions the Humbers accomplished.

A similar class of monitors taken up from Armstrong, intended for the Norwegians (the future HMS Gorgon and Glatton), were a bit larger, at 5,700 tons, and carried a mix of 9.2-inch and 6-inch guns while having a 16-foot draft.

Then came a flurry of new construction monitors after it was seen how useful the Humbers and Gorgons were, and the RN ordered, under the Emergency War Programme:

  • Fourteen M15 class (540 ton, armed with a single surplus 9.2 inch gun)
  • Eight Lord Clive-class (6,100 tons, armed with a twin 12-inch turret taken from decommissioned Majestic-class battleships).
  • Four Abercrombie class (6,300 tons, armed with embargoed Bethlehem-made 14″/45s)
  • Five M29 class (540 tons, armed with two 6″/45s taken from the Queen Elizabeth-class battleships’ nearly unusable rear casemate mounts)
  • Two Marshal Ney class (6,900 tons, 2 x modern 15″/42s, which were surplus from lightening up the new battlecruisers Renown and Repulse).

All of which began arriving in the fleet in mid-1915. In all, some 38 new monitors of all types entered RN service between August 1914 and the end of 1915. Talk about meeting a demand!

Royal Navy monitor HMS Marshal Ney underway during trials, 28 August 1915, contrasted with a scale model of her sister, HMS Marshal Soult. They carried a twin 15″/42s turret left over from lightening up the new battlecruisers Renown and Repulse.

With this scratch monitor building initiative in the rear view, the Admiralty ordered what would be the pinnacle of their Great War monitors, the twin ships of the Erebus class.

Ordered from Harland & Wolff, the renowned ocean liner builder, with one built in Govan and the other in Belfast, Erebrus and Terror were similar to the Palmers-built Marshal Ney class but larger (at 8,500 tons and 405-feet loa vs 6,900 tons, 355-feet) with better protection and speed.

What was amazing was the size of their beam, some 88 feet across, giving them a very tubby length-to-beam ratio of 5:1. Still, these cruiser-sized vessels could float in just 11 feet of water, their massive pancake anti-torpedo bulge, some 15 feet deep, subdivided into 50 watertight compartments.

Powered by four Babcock boilers, which drove two 4-cyl VTE engines on two screws, they had a 6,000shp powerplant capable of pushing them to 12 knots or greater, roughly twice the speed of the smaller Marshals, which only carried a 1,500 shp plant. On speed trials, Erebus was able to generate 7,244 hp and hit 14.1 knots, while Terror was able to generate 6,235 knots to hit a still respectable 13.1 knots. Jane’s noted later that “Their speed, considering their great beam, is remarkable.”

Like the Marshals, they were designed to carry guns large enough to outrange the 11- 12- and even 15-inchers inchers mounted by the Germans on the Belgian coast.

During the Great War, the Germans established extensive coastal artillery, managed by the Marinekorps Flandern under Admiral Ludwig von Schröder, to defend occupied Belgium and its submarine bases at Zeebrugge and Ostend. These defenses included massive 15 inch SK L/45 “Lang Max” (the most powerful German naval gun of World War I) and 12 inch SK L/50 guns, such as the Batterie Pommern and Kaiser Wilhelm II, respectively, capable of firing 37 km out to sea, with many positions (e.g., Battery Aachen) built in concrete. The Germans constructed no less than 34 batteries along the coast in the 20 miles between Knokke-Heist and Middelkerke alone.

A German 15-inch SK L/45 “Lang Max” as Coastal Artillery. The Pommern battery, located at Leugenboom in Belgium, is perhaps best known for firing about 500 rounds between June 1917 and October 1918 at ranges of up to about 48,000 yards, including many at Allied positions in and around Dunkirk (Dunkerque).  IWM photograph Q 23973.

Their main armament for Erebus and Terror was a pair of Heavy BL 15-inch/42 cal Mark Is, a gun described by Tony DiGiulian over at Navweaps as “quite possibly the best large-caliber naval gun ever developed by Britain, and it was certainly one of the longest-lived of any nation, with the first shipboard firing taking place in 1915 and the last in 1954.” Capable of firing a 1,900-pound HE or Shrapnel shell to 40,000 yards at maximum charge and elevation (as contended by Jane’s), the monitors carried 100 rounds per gun.

A tall five-level conning tower was sandwiched just behind the casemate of the main guns, topped by a large range finder, while a tripod mast and pagoda with a 360-degree view towered above both gunhouse and CT.

Modified Mark I* Turret on HMS Terror in 1915. Note the armor plates covering the gunports under the barrels and the armor cowls under the bloomers above the barrels. These were the result of changing the range of elevation from -5 / +20 degrees to +2 / +30 degrees. Also note the smoke generator apparatus on the direct control spotting tower, useful in “shooting and scooting” in the Belgian littoral against German coastal artillery. IWM photograph SP 1612.

The Guns, “HMS ‘Terror’ by John Lavery, H 61.2 x W 63.8 cm, circa 1918, Imperial War Museums art collection IWM ART 1379. Note: This artwork was relocated in August 1939 to a less vulnerable site outside London when the museum activated its evacuation plan.

There were 184 such 15-inch guns manufactured by six different works across England, and they equipped the Queen Elizabeth and Royal Sovereign battleship classes, the Glorious, Repulse, and Hood (“Admiral”) battlecruiser classes, and the monitors of not only the Erebus but also the preceding Marshal Ney class, and later WWII-era Roberts class. The Brits even used them ashore, fitted as giant coastal artillery pieces at Dover and Singapore. These superb guns allowed one of the longest hits ever scored by a naval gun on an enemy ship when, in July 1940, HMS Warspite struck the Italian battleship Guilio Cesare at approximately 26,000 yards.

HMS Erebus and HMS Repulse, both mounting 15-inch guns, at John Brown shipyard at Clydebank.

To keep in the fight against German coastal batteries, the Erebus class was extensively armored with up to 13 inches of plate over the main gun house, 8 inches on the barbette, 6 inches on the large conning tower, 4-inch bulkheads, a 4-inch box citadel over the magazines, and an armored deck sloping from 4 to 1.25 inches. Due to the design and low freeboard transitioning into the huge anti-torpedo blisters, there was no traditional side belt as known by period battleships and cruisers.

A varied secondary armament repurposed from old cruisers was arrayed around the main deck, including two (later four) 6″/40 QF Mark IIs, two 3″/50 12pdr 18cwt QF Mk Is, a 3″/45 20cwt QF Mk I anti-balloon gun, and four Vickers machine guns. This was later expanded to eight 4-inch/44 BL Mk IXs in place of the four 6″/40s, 2 12 pounders, two 3-inch AAA, and two 40mm 2-pounder pom-pom AAAs by the end of the war.

Erebus and Terror surely lived up to British Admiral George Alexander Ballard’s notions of monitors as being like “full-armored knights riding on donkeys, easy to avoid but bad to close with.”

Meet Terror

Our subject is the ninth such warship to carry the name in Royal Navy service, going back to a 4-gun bomb vessel launched in 1696. Most famously, a past HMS Terror, a 102-foot Vesuvius-class bomb vessel, had bombarded Fort McHenry in 1814, which resulted in the Star Spangled Banner, and then was lost with the bomb vessel HMS Erebus on Sir John Franklin’s doomed Arctic expedition in 1848.

Sir John Franklin’s men dying by their boat during the North-West Passage expedition: H.M.S. Erebus and Terror, 1849–1850: Illustrated London News. July 25, 1896 ,by W. Thomas Smith.

Terror was laid down as Yard No. 493 at Harland and Wolff’s Belfast site (the same yard that had just three years before completed RMS Titanic) on 12 October 1915 and launched on 18 May 1916.

Terror immediately after her launch on 18 May 1916, with Workman, Clark’s North Yard in the background. The 12-sided barbette armor and the armored conning tower have already been fitted.

She completed fitting out and entered service on 6 August 1916.

Captain (later Admiral Sir) Hugh Justin Tweedie, RN, was her first of 15 skippers. A 39-year-old regular, Tweedie had joined the Navy as a 13-year-old cadet, commanded the armored cruiser HMS Essex before the war, and the monitor Marshal Ney during the war. Nonetheless, he soon passed command to Capt. (later RADM) Charles William Bruton, late of the first-class protected cruiser HMS Edgar. Bruton would command Terror through 31 January, 1919.

Honors attached to the seven previous Terrors allowed her to commission with the two past honors, “Velez Malaga 1704” and “Copenhagen 1801”, carried forward.

War!

Joining the Dover Patrol, after a short shakedown, Erebus and Terror were soon engaged in bombarding German positions, batteries, and harbors along the Belgian coast, alternating with guard ship roles in The Downs.

Erebus class monitor HMS Terror as photographed by E. Hopkins, Southsea photographer. IWM Q 75504

Some of the more interesting sorties across the channel were a May 1917 attempt to knock out the lock gates of the Bruges Canal at Zeebrugge while acting as flag of the Dover Patrol under VADM Reginald Hugh Spencer Bacon, famous for being the first skipper of HMS Dreadnought, and two bombardments of Ostend in June and September, respectively.

British monitor HMS Terror off Belgium, 1917-1918

Incredibly, Terror and her sister showed their construction made them almost impervious to attempts to sink them.

On 19 October 1917, Terror shrugged off three direct torpedo hits from German CTBs A59, A60, and A61,  off Dunkirk, which blew off and caved in large chunks of her anti-torpedo bulge. Bruton brought his ship into shallow water and beached her with “commendable promptness under the difficult circumstances.” She suffered no casualties and, after a yard period, was back in action by January 1918.

Sister Erebus was, on 28 October 1917, hit by German distance-controlled explosive boat FL12. which carried a massive 1,500-pound charge that, while blowing a 50-foot hole in the torpedo bulge, did very little damage to the hull itself. The monitor was back in service by 21 November of the same year.

Not all RN monitors were that lucky. The Abercrombie-class monitor HMS Raglan was sunk during the Battle of Imbros in January 1918 by the Ottoman battlecruiser Yavuz Sultan Selim (ex-SMS Goeben). The Gorgon-class monitor HMS Glatton was wrecked by an internal explosion in September 1918. Three of the M15-class coastal monitors were lost: one to a mine, one to a U-boat, and one to Yavuz at Imbros. The M29-class coastal monitor HMS M30 was sunk by an Austrian howitzer battery in the Gulf of Smyrna in May 1916.

Back in service in early 1918, Terror helped spoil a German destroyer raid on Dunkirk in March, riddled German-occupied Ostend (where said destroyers sortied from) in retribution, and provided long-range bombardment support for the April 1918 Zeebrugge raid.

Her 15-inchers were replaced in September after 340 rounds. Terror and Erebus plastered German positions around Zeebrugge and Ostend to divert Jerry’s to other fronts during the Fifth Battle of Ypres, a five-day offensive that let the British take possession of a decent chunk of liberated Belgium, at least by Western Front standards.

And with that, the war to end all wars came to an end just weeks later.

Terror’s Great War service brought her two honors of her own: “Belgian Coast 1916-18,” and “Zeebrugge 1918,” upping her tally to four.

Interbellum

Terror, June 1919

While some coastal monitors saw extended post-1918 service aboard, such as on the Dvina Flotilla in Northern Russia fighting the Reds, Terror and Erebus were given more auxiliary tasks in home waters.

It was during this period that Erebus was fitted out as a cadet’s training ship, and a large extra cabin accommodation was erected on her upper deck, the roof coming just under the 15 inch guns.

Comparison of profiles for Erebus and Terror, 1929 Jane’s.

Between January 1919 and the end of 1933, Terror was assigned to the RN gunnery school at Portsmouth (aka the “stone frigate” HMS Excellent), tasked with armor-piercing shell trials against the retired Jutland veteran Bellerophon-class dreadnought HMS Superb, and the trophy German Bayern-class dreadnought SMS Baden, which had been saved from scuttling at Scapa Flow.

On 2 February 1921, the ex-SMS Baden was sunk in shallow water by 17 hits from the monitor Terror at point-blank (500-yard) range, but again refloated and, on 10 August, badly damaged by 14 hits from the monitor Erebus off the Isle of Wight. She was then towed away and scuttled in deep water off the Casquet Rocks in the Channel Islands on 16 August 1921. Painting by William Lionel Wyllie, National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London, Caird Collection. PW1872

Terror also tested new guns, and served as a general Director & Fire Control, and Turret drill ship (keep in mind that her 15″/42s were in use across the fleet) during her gunnery school days.

HMS Terror, Sept 1930

HMS Terror

Terror, Navy Week, 1929. Note the numerous small gun houses for her eight 4-inch/44 BL Mk IXs

Jane’s 1929 listing of Erebus and Terror. Note Erebus’s large deck house

In early 1933, with Japan’s walkout from the League of Nations and war drums in the Pacific, Terror was made ready for war, to a degree, and sent to Singapore to add her big guns to the defense of that strategic colonial outpost and just generally serve as a station ship.

It was a slow three-month slog via the Suez and Aden, but she made it before Christmas.

HMS Terror underway in Plymouth Sound, October 1933, IWM (FL 3724)

Terror, leaving Malta for Singapore, Oct 1933

Terror in Singapore dry dock, 1937

In October 1938, CDR Henry John Haynes, DSC, RN, became Terror’s final skipper, a distinction that he, of course, was not aware of at the time.

A career officer, he signed up as an 11-year-old Boy in 1906 and, picking up his first stripe in 1914, earned his DSC in March 1918 during the Great War “for services in Destroyer and Torpedo Boat Flotillas.” A regular salt, he achieved his first command in 1924, the destroyer HMS Sylph, then would inhabit a series of seven further captain’s cabins prior to moving into Terror’s, most recently the minelaying destroyer HMS Walker.

War (Again)

When Hitler sent his legions into Poland in September 1939, and the world again devolved into a global war, Terror was still at rest in Singapore.

Word came to make her ready for European service and she put into dry dock for a fresh coat of paint and an update in her armament, landing her secondary battery for six 4″/45 QF Mk Vs (with a 15 rounds per minute rate of fire and 50-degree elevation allowing an AA ceiling of 21,000 feet), and two quad Vickers .50 cal mounts.

She said goodbye to Singapore in December 1939, her home for six years, and headed for the Mediterranean via the Suez, arriving at Malta on 4 April 1940 to strengthen the defences against a foreseen Italian entry into the war.

On 10 June 1940, her gunners fired at the first (of many) Axis air raid over Malta.

Terror, in the distance, under air attack, 1940 AWM 306675

She spent the next several months on the periphery of several operations in the Mediterranean, including the Operation MB 8 convoy, Operation Coat (transferring of reinforcements from Gibraltar to the Eastern Mediterranean), Operation Crack (escorting carriers for an air attack on Cagliari, Sardinia), and Operation Judgment (the carrier raid on Taranto). Then, after serving in Suda Bay as a guardship, rode slow shotgun on Convoy ME-3 from Malta to Alexandria, then remained in Egypt for local defense.

Then came a very active six-week period supporting the operations of the British 8th Army across Egypt into Libya, starting with a bombardment of Italian-held Bardia on 14 December 1940, a port she would repeatedly haunt.

It was off Bardia during Operation MC 5 that, on 2 January 1940, Terror, operating in conjunction with several small Insect-class river gunboats as part of the Inshore Squadron, was attacked by Italian torpedo bombers around 1820 hours, but no damage was done to her. Another four air raids the next day were also shrugged off.

British monitor Terror under Italian air attack, 2 January 1941, off Bardia AWM 12793

17 January to 22 January saw Terror on Operation IS 1, the nightly bombardment of Italian positions around Tobruk to support the 8th Army’s efforts to capture the port.

On 12 February, she was attached to Operation Shelford, the clearance of Benghazi harbor, arriving at the Libyan port on Valentine’s Day.

She was still there through an increasingly stout series of Axis air raids, which concluded as far as Terror is concerned, at 0630 on 22 February, when a trio of Junkers Ju-88 bombers of the III/LG.1 from Catania, along with a trio of He.111 torpedo bombers of 6/KG.26 flying out of Comiso, made runs on the harbor with our monitor sustaining flooding from three near-misses. In rough shape, she was ordered to sail for Tobruk, where the anti-aircraft defense was better, but hit two German magnetic mines on the way out of the harbor, flooding her engineering spaces.

Persevering on her way to Tobruk, Terror eventually began settling in 120 feet of water about 15 nautical miles north-west of Derna, and, abandoned at 2200 on the 22nd with the intention of scuttling, sank at 0415 on 23 February 1941, capping a career of just under 25 years.

True to form, she suffered no casualties, and her 300-strong crew was taken off in toto by the escorting minesweeper HMS Fareham and corvette HMS Salvia.

She earned two further RN honors, “Libya 1941” and “Mediterranean 1941.”

She also picked up the dubious distinction of being the largest warship, by displacement, sunk in the Med by Ju-88s during the war.

Photograph of painting titled, “Terror’s last fight,” depicting the aerial bombardment of HMS Terror by German bombers in February 1941, shortly before her sinking. Pictures For Illustrating Ritchie II Book. November and December 1942, Alexandria, Pictures of Paintings by Lieutenant Commander R Langmaid, Rn, Official Fleet Artist. These Pictures Are For Illustrating a Naval War Book by Paymaster Captain L. A. Da C Ritchie, RN, IWM A 13648.

As for Erebus, she finished the war, receiving damage in covering the Husky Landings in Sicily and only narrowly avoiding being sunk by the Japanese at Trincomalee in 1942. She later clocked in as a gunfire support ship off Utah Beach for U.S. troops during the Neptune/Overlord operations on D-Day with Bombardment Force A, lending her 15-inchers to the cacophony raised by the “puny” 14-inchers on the old battlewagon USS Nevada (BB-36), and the 8-,7.25-, 6-, and 5.25-inchers of USS Tuscaloosa and Quincy, and HM’s cruisers Hawkins, Enterprise, and Black Prince.

British monitor HMS Erebus at a buoy in Plymouth Sound. IWM

HMS Erebus, camo

HMS Erebus monitor at a buoy in Plymouth Bay, 4 February 1944, IWM (FL 693)

Erebus then roamed up the French coast and, with HMS Warspite, dueled with German coastal artillery in the Le Havre area and Seine Bay in August and September 1944, supporting the British Army as it moved into the Lowlands. In November 1944, she supported Operation Infatuate, the amphibious assault on Walcheren, Netherlands.

HMS Erebus in Action off Walcheren by Stephen Bone, Nov 2nd 1944 IWM ART LD 4706

Erebus was scrapped in 1946, but it is believed that one of her 15-inch guns was, along with surplus guns from a half-dozen battleships and battlecruisers, used to equip HMS Vanguard, the Royal Navy’s final dreadnought.

Epilogue

Terror’s final skipper, CDR Haynes, added a DSO to his DSC “For courage, skill and devotion to duty in operations off the Libyan Coast,” and went on to command, in turn, the cruisers HMS Caledon and Argonaut, then the escort carriers HMS Asbury and Khedive, then the RN Air Station Wingfield near Capetown before moving to the Retired List. Capt. Haynes passed away in 1973, aged 80.

In recognition of her role in Singapore’s pre-WWII history, the new accommodation barracks adjacent to the base became known as HMS Terror from 1945 to 1971, and today the Terror Club remains in Singapore as part of the U.S. Navy’s MWR system.

The military of Singapore borrowed the name and legacy for “Terror Camp,” a training center in the Sembawang area of the old base in the 1970s and 1980s, and today the Republic of Singapore Navy’s elite Naval Diving Unit (NDU) frogman school has graced its four-story high Hull Mock-up System dive chamber as HMS Terror.

Combrig, among others, has offered detailed scale models of the Erebus class.

As for monitors, the RN kept the WWII-era HMS Roberts around as an accommodation ship at Devonport until 1965, and one of her 15″/42 guns (formerly in HMS Resolution) is mounted outside the Imperial War Museum in Lambeth, South London, together with one from the battleship Ramillies.

HMS Roberts/Resolution’s 15″/42 guns on permanent display at the Imperial War Museum, London, preserved alongside one from her sistership HMS Ramillies (07).

The 1915 Programme M29-class coastal monitor HMS M33, converted to a fueling hulk and boom defense workshop in 1939, is one of only three surviving First World War Royal Navy warships and the sole survivor of the Gallipoli Campaign. Now located at Portsmouth Historic Dockyard, close to HMS Victory, she opened to the public in 2015, preserving the memory of the RN’s World War monitor era.

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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Echoes of Issac Bell

This is one of the coolest things I have ever had a chance to hold.

Sure, you have seen Colt Police Positives.

And you have seen weapon-mounted lights.

But how many circa 1915 Colt Police Positives have you encountered with a Seely Night Sight weapon light (Patent US1029951A) from that era?

Boom:

The light assembly is under the barrel, while the battery and pressure switch are in the replacement grip. The device featured precise craftsmanship, including spring-and-rubber cushioning for the bulb.

They are joined by a fine wire that rests in a shallow milled passage through the frame that looks to have been done by perhaps a jeweler or a watchmaker.

Its inventor, Mr. George A. Seely of San Francisco, seemed an interesting chap and, besides his short-lived “night sight for firearms,” also patented a curious curtain pole, a threshold, a table leveler, a conveyor device, and a stamp affixing machine, among others.

Some lightbox images:

This seems right out of a Clive Cussler Isaac Bell novel. You know, the circa 1914-1950 investigator for the Van Dorn Detective Agency with titles like The Chase, The Wrecker, and The Bootlegger? I mean, it should. The only other example I’ve ever seen of one of these was from the Cussler Collection (formerly of noted collector/dealer Randall Bessler of Carson City) and sold at auction in 2021 for $3,750.

We have it for auction at GDC starting at an incredibly low $2,199 with like a day left, and somebody better get it because if they don’t, well, I may be forced to grab this bad boy for myself and just feel somewhat of a Van Dorn.

‘She’s All Ablaze’

In the hard Christmas of 1915, the gleaming new “Superdreadnought” USS New York (Battleship No. 34) was resting in the Hudson. Bedecked with Christmas trees from her yardarms and one huge Douglas fir on the roof of A Turret, the warship hosted 100 needy children on a tour.

USN photo courtesy of Scott Koen & ussnewyork.com, via Navsource. https://www.navsource.org/archives/01/34a.htm

Then came a large Christmas Party attended by members of the battleship’s crew, who all chipped into the fund to buy the kiddies some gifts to make their season bright.

From a period paper published on 26 December 1915:

When Chief Bos’n’s Mate ‘Arry Percival of the superdreadnought New York slipped his ‘and around ‘is waistline to the top of ‘s pocket and nonchalantly withdrew there from something which looked ever so much like a regular flask filled with an amber-colored something that made the grape juice in the punch bowl on the reporters’ table blush a deeper purple, everyone in the foc’sle was too busy feeding his or her’s Christmas face to gasp at ‘Arry’s apparent audacity. But it wasn’t that at all, and nobody should have gasped anyhow if anyone had time to indulge in an outburst.

So, Mr. Percival proceeded to justify his lack of respect for h’ by sprinkling a great big melon-shaped plum pudding with what is technically known on shipboard as the illuminating gear, same being the contents of the flask-like affair from the Chief Bos’n’s Mate’s ‘ip pocket. Then he touched a lighted match to the steaming dish and surveyed the dancing blue flames with evident satisfaction. The next instant, Mr. Percival lifted the huge platter in his arms and paraded his burden along as happy a Christmas table as yesterday knew.

“‘Ere you go, children,” beamed the Chief Bos’n’s Mate. “She’s all ablaze.”

And the “Ahs ” and “Ums” that greeted his announcement simply smothered the flames as he set the dish before the New York’s guests in the center of the long mess table.

Fast forward exactly 30 years, and after Great War service in Battleship Division Nine as reinforcement for the British Grand Fleet, earning three battle stars for her WWII service that included 1,088 operational days with the Atlantic Fleet and another 276 in the Pacific, firing over 53,000 shells in anger, she was docked in the Hudson once again.

A tired and very well-traveled war vet.

From her amazing 229-page WWII cruise book digitized online via the Bangor Public Library, the “Christmas Ship” in December 1945:

Warship Wednesday 17 December 2025: They Give a Good Account of Themselves

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 17 December 2025: They Give a Good Account of Themselves

Courtesy of Mr. Donald M. McPherson, Naval History and Heritage Command NH 68493

Above we see the awning-covered and white painted Insect-class gunboat HMS Ladybird (P.0A) lounging on the Yangtze River during China’s warlord period, circa the late 1920s. A globetrotter, she witnessed history around the world in two official wars and several undeclared ones.

Don’t let her innocuous profile and name fool you, Ladybird was a killer, as three Italian freighters found out some 85 years ago today.

The Insects

The dozen shallow draught river gunboats of the Insect class, some 237 feet long and 635 tons displacement, were flat-bottomed ships designed by Yarrow to operate in shallow, fast-flowing rivers, and able to float in just four feet of brown water.

They had enough muscle (2,000 ihp plant on Yarrow boilers and twin VTE engines and three rudders) to make 14 knots (designed, yet “easily made” 18 knots on trials), thus capable of going upstream against the flow as needed and could turn “almost on a six-pence.”

Get a feel for the class from this excellent model of the Insect class gunboat HMS Tarantula in the RMG collections.

F7752 001

F7752 004

F7752 003

F7752 002

While ordered as a class in February 1915 for emergency war service in Europe (e.g. to fight on the Danube against Austrian river monitors but instead against the “Johnny Turk” in the Tigris flotilla), the consensus is that they would, after the Great War had wrapped up, see China service on the Yangtze and similar large waterways to protect the Crown’s interests in the often lawless region. Thus, they were classed and described as “Large China Gunboats” during construction, which also allowed cover for their planned use in Europe and the Middle East.

They were well-armed for such endeavors, with a BL 6-inch Mk VII naval gun forward and another one in the rear to poke holes in said Austrian river monitors. An elevated central battery clustered around the single stack and mast held a group of six Maxim/Vickers water-cooled .303 machine guns and a couple of smaller QF Mk I 12-pounders. All of these guns, even the MGs, had front splinter shields. However, as the muzzles of the 12 pdrs were immediately over head of the crews working the 6-inchers, being one of these gunners was certainly hard on the hearing.

Aerial photograph of British Aphis (Insect) class gunboat. Note the two 6-inchers, fore and aft.

According to the excellent site on these ships, maintained by Taylor Family Collection: 

Their steel plating was thin by warship standards – only five-sixteenths of an inch amidships, tapering to about one-eighth of an inch at the ends. The decks were strengthened in the vicinity of the main armament mountings with steel doublers three-eighths of an inch thick, and a three-quarter-inch steel doubler was also fitted on the sheer strake over the mid-ship section as extra stiffening. Beyond this, they carried no armour and had no double bottoms, unlike most ships.

That their armour was so minimal is not surprising given that these were essentially “kitset” ships specially designed to be broken down and reassembled. Heavy armour plating or additional construction “stiffening” was counterproductive. Active service with the Tigris Flotilla, however, resulted in rearming – a 2-pounder pom-pom added, four of the .303–inch Maxim guns removed, and a 3–inch anti-aircraft gun installed in their place. All were fitted for towing kite balloons (to carry artillery observers). Initially, sandbags were built up around the battery deck for the protection of personnel, but later a 5–foot shield made of ¼ inch chrome steel plate was built all around this deck as can be seen in the photos.

All 12 were named for insects and acrahnids (Aphis, Bee, Cicala, Cockchafer, Cricket, Glowworm, Gnat, Mantis, Moth, Scarab, Tarantula, and our Ladybird) as befitting their role and, to speed up delivery, were ordered simultaneously from five small yards (four from Barclay, two each from Ailsa, Lobnitz, Sutherland S.B, and Wood/Skinner). No, although they were to a Yarrow design, that esteemed firm was too busy making “real” warships to deal with such bugs.

Meet Ladybird

Our subject was laid down in 1915 at Lobnitz, Renfrew, as Builder’s Hull No. 804. Her slightly older sister, HMS Gnat, No. 803, was built nearly side-by-side at the same yard. Gnat hit the water in December 1915 while Ladybird slid down the way the following April. The two would commission by May 1916.

Ladybird’s original pennant number, issued in January 1916, was P.5A. This later shifted to P.0A in January 1918.

HMS Ladybird, at Port Said, Egypt, November 1917. Note the cruiser and destroyers in the background. Photo by Surgeon Oscar Parkes, IWM SP 560

Her first skipper was Acting Commander Vaughan Alexander Edward Hanning-Lee, an Englishman from a long-service naval family. He had 16 years of service behind him, including command of several destroyers and the gunnery training ship HMS St. George (an old Edgar-class cruiser), as well as detached service at Salonika. Hanning-Lee would remain in command of Ladybird through the end of 1918.

War!

The Insects, with Serbia all but knocked out of the war and access to the Danube closed, were repurposed to fight in the Eastern Med and Mesopotamia, while Cricket, Cicala, Cockchafer, and Glowworm were kept in British home waters to defend against German zeppelin raids.

Gnat, Mantis, Moth and Tarantula were towed to the Persian Gulf to join the Tigris Flotilla while Bee and Scarab guarded the Suez Canal.

Ladybird and sister Aphis would be detailed to Egypt, and had a very busy 1917, giving good, if somewhat undetailed service against the Ottomans in the Sinai and Palestine Campaign, notably providing fire support for Bulfin’s XXI Corps during the victorious Third Battle of Gaza in November.

“Egypt scenes. Monitor HMS Ladybird in the Suez Canal, 1917.” This photo is part of an album compiled by Sub. Lieutenant Bertie Henry Buck, during his service in WWI and is part of the Australian National Maritime Museum’s collection. Object number: 00007425_9

CDR Hanning-Lee earned a DSO aboard Ladybird and a later OBE for his gallant conduct and services in the Mediterranean, retiring soon after.

The Armistice brought an end to the hostilities, of a sort.

Wait, another war?

While peace had officially broken out across the world, the Insects would spend the next several years, often deck-deep in combat, although not officially in war.

Cicala, Cockchafer, Cricket, and Glowworm sailed through the Barents Sea to Archangel for service as part of the Dvina River Force, supporting the White Russians, where they would remain through most of 1919, fighting the Reds.

Six went to the Far East with Mantis and Tarantula dispatched to the West River near Hong Kong, while Bee, Gnat, Moth, and Scarab were sent to the Yangtze River.

Aphis and our Ladybird, however, were shipped in February 1919 to join Capt. Vernon Haggard’s newly formed Naval Brigade on the Danube, aka the British Danube Flotilla, to enforce the naval terms of the Armistice with Austria-Hungary in conjunction with the Entente military mission in Budapest, the latter led by the unpopular French Lt.Col. Ferdinand Vix.

A group of British, Serbian, and Yugoslav officers at Baja on the River Danube in the summer of 1919. Front row from left to right: Commander Jellacic, commander of Yugoslav war vessels on the Danube; Lieutenant Colonel Milossovic, commander of the 9th Serbian Infantry Regiment; Captain Vernon Haggard RN, commander of the Royal Navy Danube Flotilla; Lieutenant Colonel Draskio, town commandant at Baja; Surgeon Lieutant Commander P F Cope RN, medical officer to the Danube Flotilla and Father Gregorevitch, Yugoslav Army Chaplain. Rear row from left to right: Lieutenant Pric, commanding officer of the patrol boat NERETVA; Commander R Stone RN, commanding officer of HMS LADYBIRD; Lieutenant Andric, first lieutenant of the Yugoslav monitor SAVA; Lieutenant Bacic, adjutant to Commander Jellacic; Lieutenant Commander H Hewitt, Senior British Naval Officer, Baja; Lieutenant Commander E Edmonds RN, commander of British MLs on the Danube; Lieutenant E Pigou RN, British liaison officer in SAVA; Lieutenant Kovacek, first lieutenant of the Yugoslav monitor DRAVA; Paymaster Lieutenant Commander Fritz Reger, secretary to Captain Haggard, Lieutenant H S Beresford RN, British liaison officer in DRAVA; unknown Segrbian Army officer. IWM Q 115088

This small shallow water river force also included at least four new Vickers-designed Elco-built 86-foot ML.51 motor launches, ML 196, ML.210, ML.228, and ML.434. The MLs, armed with a 3pdr plus depth charges and carrying an eight-man crew, were dangerous boats as they had gasoline engines and were poorly ventilated, with the 196 and 434 boats later catching fire and sinking in the river.

The flotilla also held control, at least temporarily in conjunction with the French, of the former Austrian KuK Donau Flotilla monitors Bodrog, Czuka, Wels, Stör, Vizu, Lachs, Fogas, Barsch, and Compó, which had lost many of their officers but still had their mostly Croat crews aboard.

While based in Baja, Hungary, the Flotilla got into a hairy situation when Bela Kun’s Soviet Republic of Hungary came to power between March and August 1919, which coincided closely with the eight-month-long and almost totally forgotten in the West, Hungarian–Romanian War and Hungarian–Czechoslovak War (both of which Hungary lost). Then came reactionary Hungarian Admiral Miklós Horthy’s “White Terror” after the fall of the communist government, which lasted through 1921.

All of this was tense to say the least, with one of the Flotilla’s vessels (ML.210) being captured by Hungarian Reds at one point and the old Austrian monitors always one step away from casting their lot with one faction or another, thus requiring constant minding– with the Yugolsavs taking custody of most of them in November 1919, although the Trianon Peace Treaty of 1920 divided the old KuK Donau Flotilla between Austria and Hungary.

Jane’s 1921 listing on the class, note Glowworm, Aphis, Ladybird, and ML 196 listed as being in the British Danube Flotilla. Glowworm had only joined the force in 1920.

The British quit the Danube in January 1926, but Ladybird had left the force before then, being laid up in reserve at Malta on 17 April 1922, after all the interventions, wars, and revolutions in Hungary had passed.

While Ladybird was lucky, others of her class serving abroad in similar undeclared conflicts were not. Cicala, serving on the broad Dvina River in Northern Russia in 1919, was the host to a mutinous crew and was later mined by the Bolshevik Reds and bottomed out, but was raised and returned to service. Likewise, both Glowworm and Cockchafer were badly damaged in a munitions barge explosion at Beresnik/Bereznik in August 1919 but were similarly repaired.

HMS Cicala in North Russia (Yeoman of Signals George Smith)

Once the Danube Flotilla was disbanded, Aphis and Ladybird— the latter recommissioned at Malta on 29 January 1927– were sent to join their sisters in the Far East while Glowworm, her wounds her Russia service never truly healed, was sent to Malta where in 1928 it was decided by the Admiralty that, due to her poor condition, she should be sold for scrap in September of that year.

Jane’s 1929 listing on the class note with Glowworm absent. By this time, the class was all based in China/Hong Kong, where they would run into a whole different set of problems.

Interbellum

The Insect-class river gunboat HMS Ladybird on route from Hong Kong to Shanghai in July 1927. IWM Q 80179

As noted by the December 1984 edition of the (Australian) Naval Historical Review: 

Typically, these gunboats…carried two officers and sometimes a doctor; six or seven petty officers and leading seamen, plus 17 able seamen. The remainder of the 50-odd souls aboard were Chinese servants, cooks, seamen, and black gang. Obviously, British ability to mount a landing force fell well below the capabilities of the ‘new six’ US gunboats, with their 4 line officers, doctor, and about 50 US enlisted. However, the British POs enjoyed more responsibility and authority than the American, as all RN officers could be off the ship at the same time.

It was during this period that, from 21 April 1932 to 30 September 1933, Ladybird was commanded by LCDR Eric Wheeler Bush, the youngest recipient of the D.S.C. in history, at not quite 17 while on HMS  Revenge at the Battle of Jutland.

The U.S. Navy’s flotilla of China Station patrol boats (ala Sand Pebbles) worked so closely with the RN’s boats that a number of excellent images of Ladybird exist in the NHHC archives from this era, many from the collections of Donald M. McPherson and Philip Yarnell.

HMS Ladybird at Shanghai, China circa the 1920s. NH 68496

Looking down on the Yangtze River, Ichang, China 1920s. USS Elcano (PG – 38) is above the “X” (bottom, left of center). HMS Ladybird (A British gunboat) is forward and to the right of ship with large single stack at bottom right center. USS Monocracy (PG-20) is forward and above Ladybird. NH 67243

HMS Ladybird British river gunboat, view taken at Ichang, China, May 1937. NH 81636

Yangtze River Patrol. A British gunboat on the Yangtze river, probably the HMS Ladybird, possibly near Ichang, China circa the 1920s. NH 67311

Yangtze River Patrol. A British gunboat on the Yangtze river, probably the HMS Ladybird, possibly near Ichang, China circa the 1920s. NH 67312

She also frequently found herself a consort to the ill-fated American gunboat USS Panay (PR-5). She and sister HMS Bee, the river flotilla flagship at the time, were on hand for Panay’s final day during the evacuation of Nanking in December 1937.

USS Panay (PR-5) in background right, beyond HMS Ladybird, British river gunboat. Weldon James of UPI News Service waves a handkerchief at Panay prior to his and others’ evacuation on the U.S. ship at Nanking, China, 12 December 1937. NH 50838

Panay, escorting three small Standard Oil tankers, Mei Ping, Mei An, and Mei Hsia, which in turn were packed with some 800 Chinese employees of the company and their families, was attacked on 12 December by Japanese naval aircraft while some 28 miles upstream from Nanking. The force, comprised of Yokosuka B4Y Type-96 “Jean” bombers and Nakajima A4N Type-95 biplane fighters, sank all four ships.

The same Japanese bombers later struck SS Wanhsien, owned by the China Navigation Company, part of a British company, later that day with negligible damage.

Ladybird and Bee, along with the American gunboat USS Oahu (PR-6), rushed to the scene in the aftermath and took aboard survivors of the vessels. Three Americans and an Italian correspondent were killed and at least 48 were seriously wounded.

A Japanese field artillery unit near Wuhu on the Yangtze, under orders from Col. Kingoro Hashimoto, opened fire on the scene with Bee dodging a near-miss and Ladybird taking six hits, suffering several casualties. One of Ladybird’s crew, Sick Berth Attendant Terrance N Lonergan, C/MX 50739, became the first member of the Royal Navy to perish in conflict with the Japanese since 1862.

HMS Ladybird, view of the damage on the port side sustained in an artillery attack by a Japanese Army battery on 12 December 1937, the same day as the USS Panay (PR-5) sinking. Courtesy of Vice Admiral Morton L. Deyo, USN (retired) NH 77816

USS Oahu (PR-6). The coffin of SK1 C.L. Ensminger, USN, lies beneath a U.S. flag on the fantail of the Oahu, as she heads to Shanghai, China, with the survivors of sister ship USS Panay (PR-5) which was sunk on 12 December 1937 by Japanese planes. British gunboat HMS Ladybird is astern of Oahu, 15 December 1937. Ensminger was killed in the attack on Panay. NH 50808

The class also thinned once again, with Bee, in poor material shape, being paid off in 1938 when the new Dragonfly-class gunboat HMS Scorpion arrived from Britain. Ex-Bee was sold in Shanghai for scrap on 22 March 1939 for just £5,225.

And another war

When Hitler sent his legions into Poland in September 1939, kicking off WWII, Ladybird was still in China, where she would remain for the rest of the year until she and sister Aphis were nominated for service in the Mediterranean. Their local Chinese crew would remain behind, transferred throughout the station.

In the meantime, both gunboats were upgraded during a refit in Singapore, landing their original 6”/45 Mk VII guns for more capable 6”/50 Mk XIII guns which had been removed from the Jutland veteran battleship HMS Agincourt in 1922 and sent East. They also picked up two Vickers 40mm/39 2pdr QF Mk VIII pom-poms in place of their old 12 pounders. The latter would become a common addition on the Insects in this period.

Other members of the class would also later be transferred to fight the Germans and Italians in the Med and Middle East, leaving just Cicala and Moth in Hong Kong while Mantis was paid off in January 1940. It was at about this time that the 10 remaining Insects shelved their P-series pennants for T-series, with Ladybird becoming T58, Aphis T57, et. al.

In January 1940, Ladybird’s new skipper was 39-year-old recalled LCDR (retired) John Fulford Blackburn, who had been on the retired list since 1934. Everyone has to do their part and all that. Her captain since March 1938, LCDR Robert Sydney Stafford, would take command Aphis.

On 3 March 1940, Ladybird and Aphis left Penang in Malaysia under escort of the cruiser HMS Durban (D 99), which later handed them over to the cruiser HMAS Hobart (D 63), to proceed to the Mediterranean via Colombo, Aden, and the Suez.

Once in the Med, she became something of a regular off the coast of the Italian Libyan port of Bardia, home to a full army corps.

In Operation MB 1, on 23 August 1940, the Australian destroyer HMAS Waterhen covered Ladybird when she boldly entered Bardia, and fired point-blank on buildings and harbor defenses. Both vessels withdrew safely after the attack. The slow-going Ladybird returned to Alexandria on the 25th, trailing Waterhen by a day.

Ladybird would repeat her punishment of the harbor on 17 December 1940. Sailing with the destroyers HMAS Voyager and HMAS Vendetta providing cover, Ladybird, sister Aphis, and the monitor HMS Terror splashed the Italian coasters Galata, Giuseppina D, and Vincenzino, shelled and sunk in the mud at Bardia.

She then spent a week off the town over the New Years, with Aphis, Terror, Gnat, and Ladybird supported by the destroyers Voyager and HMS Dainty while the carrier HMS Illustrious, two cruisers, and four destroyers poked around further offshore– wishing the Italians to sortie out– and the bruising battleships HMS Barham, Warspite and Valiant even coming in close enough to lend their big guns in two bombardment runs on 3 January 1941, landing 244 15-inch shells.

This was during Operation Compass, the strike by the British 7th Armored Division and 6th Australian Division, with Free French Colonial troops brought in by ship from Syria, to seize the Italian stronghold, wrapping up Lt. Gen Annibale Bergonzoli’s XXII Army Corps in the process and capturing 36,000 Italian troops along with 400 guns and 900 vehicles by 5 January 1941. Ladybird inherited a second-hand 20mm/65 M1939 Breda AAA gun and several crates of shells in the process.

31 December 1940. “A visit to a company of Free French in the Bardia area, troops landing on the coast from a warship.” HMS Ladybird. stationary with a small boat in the foreground. Photo by Capt. Geoffrey John Keating, No. 1 Army Film and Photo Section, Army Film and Photographic Unit IWM (E 1538)

Australian combat cameraman Damien Peter Parer was on board Ladybird when she bombarded Bardia and took dozens of snaps of the gunboat during this New Years trip, with most of them in low-rez format online at the Australian War Memorial.

31 December 1940. “Off Bardia. At the safest end of the 6-inch guns on HMS Ladybrd during the bombardment of Bardia.” Parker AWM 004991

31 December 1940. “Off Bardia. Rapid fire from the 6-inch guns on HMS Ladybrd during the bombardment of Bardia.” Parker AWM 004990

31 December 1940. “Off Bardia. The crew aboard HMS Ladybrd gives the Pom Pom a drink during the bombardment of Bardia.” Parker AWM 004993

He also caught numerous images of her crew snatching a bit of rest when they could between gun runs and batting away successive low-quality Italian air raids.

And a meal in the Petty Officers’ Mess, complete with the ship’s cat, Cinders. AWM 005005 and 005013.

Over 21/22 January 1941, Ladybird, Aphis, and Terror gave the same treatment to the Italian port of Tobruk on the Libyan/Egyptian border, where another 20,000 Italians were captured.

In February 1941, Ladybird landed 24 Royal Marines as part of Operation Abstention, a failed attempt to seize the Italian island of Kastelorizo (Castellorizo) in the Aegean, about 80nm from Rhodes. Sailing from Suda Bay, Crete with the destroyers HMS Decoy and Hereward packed with 200 men of No. 50 Army Commando, Ladybird was struck by bomb dropped by an Italian SM.79, wounding three sailors just after she put her Marines ashore. Damaged and low on fuel, she was forced to reembark her Marines and head to Haifa, one of several spoilers to the mission.

Once Rommel arrived in North Africa, the British fortunes in the theatre reversed and, not only was Bardia recaptured, but the German Afrika Korps surged into Egypt.

In early April, Ladybird and a few other ships were trapped in Tobruk with 27,000 other Allied troops, mostly of the 9th Australian Division but also with smatterings of Free Czech and Polish units. Together, these “Rats of Tobruk” held out for the next seven months against all odds as Rommel tried to reduce and either capture or wreck the port.

Soon, the cargo ships SS Draco, Bankura, and Urania, along with the 3,000-ton armed boarding vessel HMS Chakla were sunk by Axis aircraft of the Luftwaffe’s 3./StG 1 and 2./StG 2, along with the Regia Aeronautica’s 96, 236, and 239 Squadriglias.

“Armed boarding vessel Chakla, under bombing attack in Tobruk harbour, 1941-04-29. Note her camouflage scheme, the colours of which are probably 507a (the darker grey) and 507c. The Chakla was sunk as a result of the attack. (still from a cine film).” AWM 127950.

On 7 May, the Hunt-class minesweeper HMS Stoke (J 33) was bombed and sunk at Tobruk by Stukas of 2./StG 2, with the loss of 21 of her crew. Ladybird rushed to pick up her survivors.

Five days later, Ladybird had her turn in the barrel and was sent to the bottom after a bomb strike from II./StG 2,  settling on an even keel in ten feet of water with three men killed, all listed as “missing presumed killed”:

  • George R Morley, Able Seaman, P/J 59384, MPK
  • Wiliam Olley, Able Seaman, P/JX 171410, MPK
  • Edward Paton, Able Seaman, P/JX 152815, MPK

Tobruk, Cyrenaica, Libya. c. May 1941. A general view of bomb damaged buildings. The smoke from the harbour is from HMS Ladybird set on fire by an enemy bomb. (Donor Sergeant Maxwell) AWM 022116

By July, Ladybird’s sister HMS Cricket was similarly crippled by an Italian bomber off Mersa Matruh, Egypt while another sister, Gnat had the first 20 feet of her bow knocked off by German submarine U79 at Bardia in October and was knocked out of the war.

Even with the gunboat on the bottom and her crew dispersed through the fleet, the hulk of the old Ladybird hosted men of No. 40 Battery, 14th (“West Lothian Royal Scots” as they had converted from a Royal Scots infantry company) Light Anti-Aircraft Regiment, Royal Artillery (T.A.), who lived aboard her remaining topside, roughing it on a ghost ship with a few tricks still up her sleeve.

14 August 1941. Original wartime caption, emphasis mine: “Tobruk. HM Submarine Ladybird seen submerged in the harbour. The pride of Tobruk is Ladybird which was sunk in the harbour with only her gun turret above the water line. She still takes part in the defense of the Town. A Gun crew live aboard with their A.A. Gun with which they give a good account of themselves.” Taken by LT Smith, No. 1 Army Film and Photo Section, Army Film and Photographic Unit, IWM E.4846

5 September 1941. Gunners of No 40 Battery, 14th Light Anti-Aircraft Regiment, Royal Artillery, cleaning a gun on board the half-submerged HMS Ladybird, which was sunk by enemy bombs in Tobruk Harbour. Photo by Thomas Fisher. AWM 020575

Same as the above, AWM 020574

These marooned Army gunners hung up their tin hats and spent their downtime fishing, playing cards, swimming, and reading between air raids. An almost idyllic life whenever bombs weren’t falling.

These images captured by Thomas Fisher, in the AWM:

After the 231-day siege of Tobruk was relieved by the British Eighth Army in late November and the front soon surged West, Ladybird was abandoned for good.

Ladybird’s motto was Ne sperne Fortuna (Do not throw away your luck). She well-earned two battle honors for her WWII service: Mediterranean 1940-41 and Libya 1940-41. She was hit by Japanese, Italian, and German munitions– the Axis trifecta.

Of the rest of her sisters, Cicala and Moth, still in the Far East in December 1941, were lost at Hong Kong. Just four Insects survived the war, Aphis, Cockchafer, Scarab, and Tarantula, all disposed of by 1949.

Epilogue

Ladybird’s watch bell is in the collection of the RMG, complete with the name of a infant baptized aboard her in 1936 while on China station.

A large builder’s model of her recently sold at auction.

Model of Ladybird, via Bonhams

Of Ladybird’s 12 skippers, only one, Capt. John Fenwick Warton, who commanded her in 1920 while on the Danube, went on to become an admiral. Her 12th, CDR Blackburn, survived her sinking in 1941 and would go on to command the sloop HMS Woodcock (U 90) later in the war. Blackburn earned both a DSO and Bar during the war and rejoined the retired list afterward, passing in 1978.

The West Lothian Royal Scots, who lived aboard Ladybird in her time with the Army, remained in North Africa through the rest of the campaign then landed at Salerno under the 12th AA Brigade and fought in Italy until January 1945, when they returned to Britain and disbandment.

As for the intrepid Australian war photographer who rode Ladybird into battle off Bardia and captured the moment in celluloid, Damien Parer journeyed west to the Pacific in 1942 and filmed “Kokoda Front Line,” one of the most iconic Australian war documentaries. While covering the faces of advancing Marines on Peleliu in September 1944, Parer, walking backwards behind the cover of a tank, was killed by a burst of Japanese machine gun fire, aged 32.

Col. Kingoro Hashimoto, the Japanese officer who ordered his guns to fire on the Panay rescue party, hitting Ladybird in the process, post-war was sentenced to life imprisonment in Sugamo Prison by the International Military Tribunal for the Far East. He died in 1957. The attack on Ladybird was cited both against him and Gen. Iwane Matsui, the overall Japanese commander during the Nanking campaign in 1937, during their war crimes trials. Matsui was hung for his crimes at Sugamo in 1948.

Ladybird is remembered in maritime art.

“Greyhound and Ladybird in search of enemy battery off Tobruk, like ill assorted terriers” between November 1942 and December 1942. Pictures of Paintings by LCDR R Langmaid, RN, Official Fleet Artist. These Pictures Are For Illustrating a Naval War Book by Paymaster Captain L a Da C Ritchie, RN. IWM A 13635

The Royal Navy recycled her name in 1950 at the outbreak of the Korean War, by purchasing the 295-foot British-owned CNCo freighter MV Wusueh, which had been requisitioned for WWII service by the MoWT and only returned to her owners a couple years prior. Renamed HMS Ladybird, she was moored at Sasebo, Japan, as the Naval Headquarters and Communications vessel for the Commonwealth Blockading forces through 1953.

“HMS Ladybird, a British converted Yangtze River steamer. January 1951, Sasebo, Japan. HMS Ladybird was the nerve center of the British Commonwealth fleet in the Korean zone. It was the forward headquarters ship of Vice Admiral W. G. Andrewes, who commanded the fleet. It had communications equipment equal to that of a cruiser, and from her, the fueling, feeding, ammunitioning, and welfare of the fleet was administered.” IWM A 31830

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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