Waking up the Dragon

Some 75 years ago this week.

The mothballed Iowa-class fast battleship USS New Jersey (BB-62) is towed up the East River under the Brooklyn Bridge to the New York Navy Yard, 22 November 1950, for reactivation as a fire support platform for use in the Korean War.

She had been recommissioned at Bayonne the day before.

She would be refitted with SK-2 search radar, MK 12/22 radar on her MK 37 directors, and retained her 20mm Oerlikons, although most of her 40mm Bofors are gone

USS New Jersey (BB-62) commissioning at Bayonne, 21 November 1950, for Korean War reactivation

Already the recipient of nine battle stars for her WWII service, New Jersey had been decommissioned at Bayonne on 30 June 1948, so her hull had only languished on “red lead row” for 28 months and, notably, was still a very young ship, having been commissioned the first time at Philadelphia on 23 May 1943.

After a quick refit and shakedown, New Jersey left for the Seventh Fleet, where she arrived off the east coast of Korea on 17 May 1951 and spent the next seven months as fleet flagship. The recalled battleship’s big guns opened the first shore bombardment of her Korean career at Wonsan just two days later.

Over the next two years, she would pick up another four battlestars.

The battleship New Jersey (BB-62) fires a full nine-gun salvo of her 16″ rifles at a target in Kaesong, Korea, on 1 January 1953. Official USN photograph # 80-G-433953 in the collection of the National Archives,

USS New Jersey (BB-62) fires a nine 16-inch gun salvo during bombardment operations against enemy targets in Korea, adjacent to the 38th parallel. The photo is dated 10 November 1951. Smoke from shell explosions is visible ashore, in the upper left. Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. 80-G-435681

As noted by DANFS:

During her two tours of duty in Korean waters, she was again and again to play the part of seaborne mobile artillery. In direct support to United Nations troops, or in preparation for ground actions, in interdicting Communist supply and communication routes, or in destroying supplies and troop positions, New Jersey hurled a weight of steel fire far beyond the capacity of land artillery, moved rapidly and free from major attack from one target to another, and at the same time could be immediately available to guard aircraft carriers should they require her protection.

New Jersey would be decommissioned a second time on 21 August 1957, was brought back in 1968 to rain 6,000 shells on NVA positions in Vietnam, then decommissioned a third time the next year, and brought back a fourth and final time in 1982.

Der Moon Fuhrer ist Tot

When it comes to arthouse, low-budget, B-grade horror films, there is probably no more prolific actor than German-born Udo Kier, with 411 acting credits in IMDB.

Well, I guess I should say, “was” rather than is. He passed over the weekend, aged 81.

Born Udo Kierspe in Cologne in late 1944– the hospital was bombed and buried the baby and his mother in the rubble– he left West Germany at age 18 for England and appeared in his first of (so) many films in 1966.

To youth on this side of the pond, he is probably best known for his roles in numerous vampire movies, as the high-pressure Operation Paperclip-esque NASA flight psychologist in Armageddon (“Who is Jethro Tull?”), voiceover work in Call of Duty, and as “Moon Fuhrer” Wolfgang Kortzfleisch in 2012’s amazingly over-the-top Iron Sky.

Ironically, he never got to play a Bond villain, which seems strange.

Pour one out for ol Udo.

Big Mamie, returns

The fifth (completed) U.S. Navy vessel named for the Bay State, the future USS Massachusetts (SSN 798), was delivered to the service from Newport News on 21 November. She is the 25th Virginia/774-class submarine, the 12th delivered by the yard, and the seventh of 10 planned Block IV configured boats. Her commissioning is set for 2026.

Future USS Massachusetts (SSN 798) on builder’s acceptance trials. 251008-N-MQ094-002

Future USS Massachusetts (SSN 798) on builder’s acceptance trials. 251008-N-MQ094-001

Future USS Massachusetts (SSN 798) on builder’s acceptance trials. 251008-N-MQ094-003

The first USS Massachusetts was a 4-gun screw steamer built in 1845 and fought during the Mexican-American War.

The second, a 6-gunned screw steamer, fought in the Civil War– the bane of the Confederates on the Mississippi Coast and still has a fort named after her on Ship Island– while the third, an Indiana-class battleship (BB-2), fought in the Spanish-American War.

The last and most famous USS Massachusetts (BB-59) was commissioned in 1942 as a South Dakota-class fast battleship, earning 11 battle stars for exceptional service in WWII from Casablanca to Okinawa before being decommissioned in 1947. She remained in the Reserve Fleet until stricken from the Naval Vessel Register in June 1962 and continues to serve as a floating museum.

USS Massachusetts underway somewhere in the Pacific (1943)

Nice to see the name back on the Naval List.

Bat ‘Truders

How about this great shot some 50 years ago today, showing a quartet of full-color Grumman A-6A Intruder aircraft (BuNo 155623, 155624, 155625, 157014) of U.S. Marine Corps All-Weather Medium Attack Squadron (VMA(AW)) 242 flying in echelon formation on 21 November 1975.

Photo by Sgt. C. Quinn, USMC, VIRIN: DM-SC-84-04345

Commissioned on 1 July 1943 at MCAS El Centro, California as Marine Torpedo Bombing Squadron (VMTB) 242 with an insignia that included Bugs Bunny riding a torpedo, the squadron flew TBM Avengers throughout the Westpac in the last 20 months of the war, operating from bases ranging from the Solomons to Iwo Jima.

Inactivated post-war and stood back up in 1960, they first flew Skyhawks and then Intruders, stacking up a tally of 16,783 combat sorties delivering 85,990 tons of ordnance in successive tours in Vietnam, where they switched to the “Bats” nickname. One of the last Marine A-6 squadrons, they only transitioned to the F/A-18D Hornet in 1990, which they used to great effect in air support missions in Iraq in 2005.

Today, the Bats of VMFA-242 operate F-35Bs tasked to MAG-12 (1st MAW) out of MCAS Iwakuni. Of note, while they started off looking for Japanese carriers to sink in 1944, the unit recently was the first F-35 squadron to conduct operational testing on the Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force helicopter carrier JS Izumo, the country’s first “big deck” fixed-wing carrier since WWII.

The Fake Chinese Secret Iranian Type 56

When it comes to the AK platform, no gun writer knows more about them than Vladimir Onokoy. You’ve seen his work everywhere if you read gun mags, books, or sites. I mean, he effectively wrote the books on them.

A couple of days ago, Recoil Magazine published Onokoy’s article about Iranian AKs.

Although these rifles are used in conflict zones all over the Middle East, not much information is available, so the piece is interesting, for sure.

Clandestine Kalashnikov: The Fake-Chinese Secret Iranian AK-47

73rd Burke accepted

Bath has delivered the future USS Harvey C. Barnum Jr. (DDG-124) to the Navy for a planned 2026 commissioning. 

She is the 73rd of her class, the next to last Flight IIA Burke, and one of nine so-called “Technology Insertion” vessels, which have some of the Flight III sensors and mods, such as the new AN/SPQ-9B search and fire control radar instead of the older AN/SPS-67, which was first fielded in 1983.

She also notably is still carrying a CIWS aft rather than a 21-cell RAM launcher, and her forward of the bridge CIWS spot is empty, which means she may be picking up a laser there, be it ODIN, which is on four ships already, or the HELIOS system.

The ship is the first named after retired Marine Col. Harvey Curtiss “Barney” Barnum Jr, a Medal of Honor recipient recognized for his extraordinary heroism and valor during the Vietnam War.

Bath has seven future Burkes under construction: Patrick Gallagher (DDG 127)— the last Flight IIA– and six Flight IIIs: Louis H. Wilson Jr. (DDG 126), William Charette (DDG 130), Quentin Walsh (DDG 132), John E. Kilmer (DDG 134), Richard G. Lugar (DDG 136), and J. William Middendorf (DDG 138).

Eastern Shipbuilding Stops Work on all Coast Guard Offshore Patrol Cutters

So much unrealized potential…

The future Offshore Patrol Cutter ARGUS, in launch position, 2023. Photo Eastern Shipbuilding Group

After being chosen to supply as many as 25 new 360-foot Heritage-class Offshore Patrol Cutters to the USCG in 2016, Panama City’s Eastern Shipbuilding Group has been consistently playing the whomp-whomp tuba.

After nearly a decade, not a single ship is within striking distance of entering service.

Yes, the yard was all but flattened by Hurricane Michael in 2018, but that was seven years ago and of the four cutters they were working on in the first flight (Hull# 302A: WMSM-915: USCGC Argus, Hull# 305A: WMSM-916: USCGC Chase, Hull# 307A: WMSM-917: USCGC Ingham, and Hull# 309A: WMSM-918: USCGC Rush) only Argus has hit the water and has slowly been fitting out for the past 25 months but is still long from finished, while work on the last two were ordered stopped by DHS back in June as so little progress had been made.

Now, as reported by GCaptain, ESG has announced the suspension of work on the U.S. Coast Guard’s first two Offshore Patrol Cutters (Argus and Chase), citing unsustainable financial pressures and workforce reductions as the company struggles with what CEO Joey D’Isernia described as “significant financial strain caused by the program’s structure and conditions.”

However, ESG is still hard at work on commercial vessels and Ingalls, and by extension, the Navy, in September inked a contract with ESG to help craft subassemblies for Flight III Arleigh Burke-class destroyers, so, yeah. That doesn’t sound promising for anyone involved.

As for the OPC program, the USCG has shifted it to Austal in nearby Mobile, which has just wrapped up its semi-successful (at least they were delivered) Independence-class LCS program.

The Coast Guard should bounce back.

It’s not the first time that they had a disastrous start to a large cutter program; just look back to the 270-foot Bear (Famous) class cutters of the 1980s, in which the original contract winner didn’t even own a shipyard, and the yard eventually selected, the Tacoma Boatbuilding Company, soon entered Chapter 11. Yacht builder Robert E. Derecktor went on to finish the class, and the Bears have been soldiering on admirably ever since.

At least Bond got his: Walther Ends Production on PPK, PPKs, and PP Pistols

Firearms giant Walther this week announced it was beginning a “multi-year pause of production” on its most iconic pistol lines.

As part of Walther’s “long-term product vision,” the PPK, PPK/S, and PP models will no longer be produced as the company enters into a “multi-year reengineering and modernization program.” Walther officials stress this initiative aims to enhance performance, integrate advanced manufacturing technologies, and elevate the user experience – all while preserving the iconic look, feel, and spirit that have defined these pistols for generations.

“This is not the end of the PPK story,” said Tyler Weigel, VP of sales for Walther Arms. “It’s the beginning of a new chapter. Our goal is to honor the heritage of these iconic firearms by bringing them into the future without compromising what made them classics.”

PPK slides on the assembly line in Ulm, Germany
We saw PPK slides on the assembly line in Ulm, Germany, last year. Little did we know they would be some of the last – for now. (Photo: Chris Eger/Guns.com)

Related: Home of the PDP and PPK: Factory Tour of Walther’s German Plant

The original PP (Polizeipistole or “Police Pistol”) was introduced in Weimar-era Germany by Carl Walther in 1929. Originally chambered in .32 ACP, the pistol has evolved over the years into more compact PPK and import-compliant PPK/s variants with other calibers such as .22 LR and .380 ACP added to the mix.

The Walther factory, shifted from Zella-Mehlis in Soviet-occupied East Germany to Ulm in West Germany after World War II, eventually resumed production on the PP/PPK just in time for it to become a staple of international espionage movies during the Cold War.

While Sean Connery’s Agent 007 was issued a Walther in the first 10 minutes of 1962’s “Dr. No” to replace his favored .25 ACP Beretta, it would continue as his standard through his six-film run and go on to be picked up off and on by successive generations of Bonds.

You can bet that collectors will now be moving in on the new old stock PP series pistols that remain on shelves – before they disappear like a spy into the mist.

The dusty cardboard box of Kaiser Karl

The Habsburgs by the 1860s had at least five assorted life guard units in their Household Division, with probably the most elite of them– on regular watch anyway– being the Imperial-Royal Trabant Lifeguards (k.k. Trabantenleibgarde).

Composed of long-serving Army officers and career NCOs, the half-company-sized Trabantenleibgarde was responsible for mounting the interior guard at the imperial residences of Hofburg and Schönbrunn in Austria. A larger force of picked enlisted men, the Leibgarde Infanterie Kompanie, handled day-to-day exterior guard work. The castles and residences in Hungary were guarded by dedicated Hungarian units.

When the last Habsburg emperor, Charles (Kaiser Karl I of Austria/King Károly IV of Hungary), left Schönbrunn Palace for the final time in the quiet pre-dawn hours of 12 November 1918, he personally dismissed the men of the Trabantenleibgarde without relief, their watch concluded.

However, Charles forgot to change the non-commissioned officer on duty in the Hall of Mirrors. Legend has it that the guard remained at his post until overcome by fatigue and drowsiness; he fell asleep on he shiny floor. He was found the next morning lying next to his white-crested helmet.

Emperor Karl I of Austria-Hungary inspecting troops of the Polish Auxiliary Corps in Bukovina, 10 December 1917. The officer on horseback is probably Lieutenant Colonel Michał Żymierski (IWM)

While Charles beat feet to Schloss Eckartsau, east of Vienna, and issued a proclamation that was ultimately taken as an abdication-in-waiting with the hope that his people would recall him, the old Empire was shattered to pieces in the wake of the country’s Great War defeat and ruin.

Leaving Austria for good in March 1919 for Switzerland and finally Portugal, where he died in exile in 1922, the Austrian Parliament pulled the plug on the monarchy in April 1919 and barred Charles and his male descendants from ever returning unless they formally renounced their rights to the throne.

Well, it seems like Charles and his wife Zita got the last laugh as a literal treasure trove of jewels, including the famous 137-carat Florentine Diamond, thought lost to history and unseen since 1918, just surfaced in the hands of male Habsburg descendants.

Long feared broken up, it turned out that Zita carried the cardboard box full of jewels away and locked the trove in a Canadian safe deposit box in the 1940s, where they remain today.

The family secret was kept on the condition that at least 100 years had passed since the last Austrian Kaiser’s death before it would be revealed.

The family wants to put the jewels on display in a Canadian institution, but the Austrian government is already making noise about getting the items, some of which have been in the personal collection of the Habsburgs since the 1700s, back.

You have to give it to Charles, Zita, and their offspring, though. The jewels could have easily been passed on in private sales at any point since 1919, but have been kept intact and safe. Worse, they could have abandoned them to history. Keep in mind that since they left Austria, the country descended into a spiral of Nazi and later Allied occupation that lasted 23 years, bracketed by cycles of oddball socialist governments. Had the jewels been left at Schönbrunn, they very well may have vanished.

Remember that the 12th-century Holy Crown of Hungary, also known as the Crown of Saint Stephen, which last rested on Charles’s head in 1916, was recovered in the remote mountain hamlet of Egglesberg, Austria, by the U.S. 86th Infantry Division in April 1945 and kept in Fort Knox until 1978, when it was handed over to the Hungarian government.

At least the secret was kept, clad in pasteboard, and the last post has finally been relieved.

Warship Wednesday 19 November 2025: Pride of the Scouting Group

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 19 November 2025:  Pride of the Scouting Group

Photographed by A. Renard of Kiel, Germany, via the Naval History and Heritage Command, NH 45198

Above we see the Roon-class armored cruiser (panzerkreuzer) SMS Yorck of the Kaiserliche Marine, passing under the famous Levensauer Hochbrücke along the Kiel Canal prior to the Great War.

She was commissioned 120 years ago this week and, a beautiful ship, had a short but tragic peacetime career and even shorter and more tragic wartime service without ever firing a shot in anger.

The Roons

In the 1890s, the German Imperial Navy moved to field several armored cruisers, initially rebuilding old (circa 1870s) ironclads with newer and more modern guns and updated engineering plants.

Then came the majestic 11,500-ton SMS Fürst Bismarck, the country’s first purpose-built armored cruiser, laid down in 1896. Built for 18 million gold marks, Fürst Bismarck was capable of 18.7 knots and carrying a main battery of four 9.4″/40s and a secondary of 12 5.9″/40s, while clad in up to 7.9 inches of armor plate. Bismarck was followed in 1898 by the smaller (and cheaper, at 16 million marks) SMS Prinz Heinrich (9,800t, 2×9.4″/40, 10x5.9-inch SK L/40s, 20 knots, 5.9-inch armor).

Then came the twin SMS Prinz Adalbert in 1900 and Friedrich Carl in 1901, which were basically a three-funneled improvement of the preceding Prinz Heinrich, while carrying a different main armament (four 8.27-inch SK L/40 C/01s rather than 2×9.4″/40s) and thinner but better armor with the secondary armament (10×5.9″/40s) housed in a central armored citadel amidships and a 21 knot speed on a 18,500shp plant.

Jane’s 1914 entry for the armored cruisers SMS Prinz Adalbert and Friedrich Carl.

Continuing that vein, the 1902-03 Naval Program ordered a pair of essentially improved Prinz Adalbert-class cruisers, dubbed initially Ersatz (more or less “replacement”) Kaiser and Ersatz Deutschland as they were replacing the old ironclad/armored cruiser conversions on the German Navy List. The differences between the new cruisers and their Adalbert-class half-sisters came in the fact that they had four funnels rather than three, with 16 boilers rather than 14 on a more powerful 20,000 shp plant.

Ersatz Kaiser/Ersatz Deutschland, future SMS Roon/SMS Yorck, concept Brassey’s Naval Annual 1906

Armament was largely the same primary (four 8.27″40s with 380 rounds) and secondary batteries (ten 5.9″/40s with 1,600 rounds), while the tertiary battery was slightly larger (14 24-pounders with 2,100 rounds vs 12 24-pounders with 1,800 rounds). Four 17.7-inch torpedo tubes were fitted below the waterline– one each in the bow and stern, and one on each side approximately at the level of the forward twin turrets– with 11 torpedoes in the magazine.

The two new cruisers, Ersatz Kaiser and Ersatz Deutschland, entered the fleet as SMS Roon and SMS Yorck, constructed eight months apart at Kaiserliche Werft, Kiel, and Blohm & Voss, Hamburg, respectively.

Jane’s 1914 entry for the armored cruisers SMS Roon and Yorck.

Brassy’s line drawing on SMS Roon and Yorck.

A 1917 ONI publication on the armament and armor of Roon.

For reference, the Germans liked the design of Roon and Yorck so much that they ordered another pair of armored cruisers in 1904 to an improved design, the larger (and 25 percent more expensive, at 20-million marks each) Scharnhorst and Gneisenau of later Maximillian Von Spee fame.

Jane’s 1914 entry for the armored cruisers SMS Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. These were just bigger Roon-class cruisers with more speed and range but roughly the same armament and armor.

Following Scharnhorst and Gneisenau, the Germans in 1906 ordered their last armored cruiser, the huge 15,000-ton 12x 8.4″/45 gunned SMS Blücher (which cost 28.5 million marks), then shifted gears to battlecruisers with the 21,000-ton 11-inch gunned SMS Von der Tann (36.5 million marks) in 1907.

With that…

Meet Yorck 

Our subject carries the name of Johann David Ludwig Graf Yorck von Wartenburg, a Prussian feldmarschall and statesman of the early 19th century.

An ardent patriot, Yorck resented Prussia’s subservience to Napoleon and, in 1812, defied the orders of Wilhelm Friedrich III by initially refusing to join the French emperor’s great invasion of Russia. With Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow, Yorck seized the opportunity for liberation and negotiated a separate peace treaty (the Convention of Tauroggen) for his Corps with Russian General Ivan Ivanovich Dibich-Zabalkansky over the Christmas holiday of 1812 without the consent of their respective monarchs. He went on to fight Napoleon for the next three years and retired from the Prussian Army in 1821, passing nine years later.

Yorck, a thorn in Napoleon’s side, later became a favorite icon of the newly unified Germany.

Laid down as Ersatz Deutschland (Baunummer 167) at the Blohm & Voss in Hamburg on 25 April 1903, the hull of the future SMS Yorck was launched into the water on a warm 14 May 1904, christened by Josephine Yorck von Wartenburg, the 45-year-old granddaughter of the famous field marshal. Speaking of field marshals, the 71-year-old Gen. Wilhelm Gustav Karl Bernhard von Hahnke, then the Oberkommando in den Marken over state functions, read the dedication to the new cruiser.

Yorck, launched. Note her ram bow

Yorck, despite being laid down eight months later, managed to be completed six months earlier than her sister Roon, commissioning on 21 November 1905, while the class leader entered service on 5 April 1906.

Yorck’s construction costs were 16,241,000 goldmarks, while Roon came in at a comparatively cheaper 15,345,000 goldmarks. Still, they both came in cheaper than the previous twins, the 16.4 million mark Prinz Adalbert and the 15.7 million mark Friedrich Carl. Roon is listed as costing £875,733 (£660,469 hull and machinery, £195,695 guns, £19,569 torpedo armament) in a British journal.

She and her sister joined the fleet’s reconnaissance force (Aufklärungsstreitkräfte), with Yorck taking over the task of flagship from Friedrich Carl. The flagship role would remain with Yorck until May 1908, then again from March 1909 to April 1910, and intermittently in 1912 and 1913. Whenever she wasn’t the direct flagship, she typically carried the recon force’s second or third commander and staff.

Yorck Mai 1910 Hansestadt Bremisches Amt Bremerhaven, Bild-Nr. S1 F 22-1

She spent the next several years in a series of fleet maneuvers and squadron cruises into the Atlantic, ranging as far as Spain and Norway.

Roon and Yorck with the Aufklärungsstreitkräfte in Puddefjorden, Bergen, Norway, between 1907 and 1911.

Roon and Yorck with the Aufklärungsstreitkräfte in Puddefjorden, Bergen, Norway, between 1907 and 1911.

Roon and Yorck with the Aufklärungsstreitkräfte in Puddefjorden, Bergen, Norway, between 1907 and 1911.

She not only looked good but could shoot as well. Yorck won the Emperor’s Shooting Prize (Kaiser Preis) for large cruisers in both 1908 and 1910.

Meanwhile, sister Roon, unburdened by flagship roles, even managed a sortie to escort ships to the far east and attend the 1907 Jamestown Exhibition naval parade in New York City along with the protected cruiser SMS Kaiserin Augusta.

SMS Roon 1907 Jamestown Exhibition, NYC. LOC ggbain 28287

S.178

While practicing counter-torpedo boat operations on the night of 4 March 1913, just northeast of Heligoland, Yorck inadvertently rammed the low-lying and fast-moving S.178, driving the 800-ton ship under the waves, and sending 69 men with her to the bottom. Just 15 survivors were saved through the combined efforts of fellow torpedo boat S.177, Yorck, and the battleship SMS Oldenburg.

The 242-foot S.138-class torpedoboot S.178 was cut in half by Yorck in March 1913 but was salvaged (during which one of the salvage vessels, Unterlebe, capsized in heavy seas, carrying another seven men to the bottom). Her two pieces reconstructed, she survived the Great War and was surrendered to the British, who scrapped her in Dordrecht in 1922.

Doldrums

As the Kaiser built out his shiny new High Seas Fleet and a fresh batch of battlecruisers joined it, the still young but smaller, weaker, and slower armored cruisers were put to pasture to free up their crews for reassignment. Prinz Heinrich was laid up from 1906 to 1908 and then put into limited service as a training ship. Likewise, in 1909, Friedrich Carl was withdrawn from front-line service and re-tasked as a torpedo training ship. Prinz Adalbert became a gunnery school and test ship in 1912.

Roon was laid up in September 1911 after just five years of service, while Yorck soon followed her sister and was laid up on 21 May 1913, having completed less than eight years of service. It probably didn’t help that the high-profile ramming of S.178 had occurred just ten weeks prior. Most of Yorck’s crew, including the skipper, transferred to the newly completed battlecruiser SMS Seydlitz.

Yup, that Seydlitz.

SMS-Seydlitz seeing what hell looks like at Jutland, by Carl Becker

Scharnhorst and Gneisenau were only on active service in 1914 due to their overseas assignment with the East Asian Squadron, while Blucher was, well, a proto if under-gunned battlecruiser. If you ask me, it’s likely that on a long enough timeline, the Germans would have replaced von Spee’s armored cruisers with battlecruisers in the same way that the Moltke-class BC SMS Goeben was stationed in the Mediterranean from 1912 onward.

Anyhow…

War!

Yorck, photographed in 1914. Courtesy of Master Sergeant Donald L.R. Shake, USAF, 1981. NH 92713

When the lights went out across Europe in August 1914, Yorck and Roon were pulled out of reserve and rushed back into service, both attached to the III. Aufklärungsgruppe, with Roon, made the group flag.

The squadron initially operated in the Baltic Sea, then later shifted to the North Sea.

On 2 November, the 3rd Scouting Group helped cover the first offensive operation of the High Seas Fleet– the bombardment by the battlecruisers of the 1st Scouting Group of Yarmouth, the first attack on British soil in 250 years. While no casualties were suffered on either side and the Germans retired in good order, Yorck would upend that empty victory.

While wrapped in fog in the inner Jade estuary on the morning of 4 November, Yorck’s skipper, KzS Waldemar Pieper– a skilled professional officer who had signed up in 1887 as a cadet and had commanded both the armored cruisers Prinz Adalbert and Blucher before the war– had reason to believe his ship’s water supply was contaminated and ordered her to weigh anchor and proceed to Wilhelmshaven without pilots. The pilot had refused to take over the conn due to the poor visibility and the considerable risk of German defensive minefields, which were known but subject to tidal drifting.

At 0410, Yorck struck a mine, then turned away to escape the field and hit a second one, soon capsizing and turning turtle, entombing fully half of her crew. If not for the efforts of the old Siegfried-class coastal defense ship (küstenpanzerschiffen) SMS Hagen rushing out to her rescue despite the mines, the other half (the chagrined Pieper among them) would surely have succumbed to hypothermia.

SMS Yorck mined near Wilhelmshaven, on return from Yarmouth, 4th November 1914. The ship is on her side. Reichs Marine Sammlung Collection, IWM (Q 48420)

The German armored cruiser SMS Friedrich Carl was sunk by a pair of Russian mines in the Baltic Sea almost a year to the day later, in November 1915

Yorck and Friedrich Carl were in the club of over a dozen cruisers claimed by mine warfare between 1904 and 1942, including the British cruisers HMS Cassandra, Amphion, Hampshire, and Neptune; the Japanese cruisers Miyako, Saien, and Takasago; the Italian cruisers Carlo Alberto Racchia, Carlo Mirabello, and Cesare Rossarol; the Russian cruisers Boyarin, Peresvet, and Ladgoda; USS San Diego (ACR-6), the French cruiser Kléber, and the Ottoman cruiser Mecidiye.

Yorck’s sister Roon was decommissioned in Kiel on 4 February 1916 and, after being disarmed and used as a training hulk for U-boat crews, was slated for conversion to a seaplane carrier.

Roon’s planned seaplane carrier conversion which never completed. Found at Kiel after the war in poor condition, she was scrapped by 1921. Drawing by Dr Dan Saranga, Blueprints.com

Epilogue

Lost in shallow water with some elements of her wrecked hull at the time just 10 feet below the surface, between 1926 and stretching to 1983, Yorck was slowly blasted and salvaged, then later broken up in place on the seabed as a navigational hazard, finally being dredged under to effectively bury what remained.

These days, about the only relics of Yorck that endure are period postcards.

The Germans may have tried to recycle the name of our cruiser in the lead ship of the nascent Ersatz (replacement) Yorck-class of battlecruisers, whose two sisters would have, at least initially, been named Ersatz Gneisenau and Ersatz Scharnhorst. Big 38,000-ton beasts with a planned 90,000shp on tap from a suite that included 32 boilers and four geared steam turbines, the Ersatz Yorcks were a sort of Super Mackensen type that would have made 27 knots while still carrying eight 15″/45 guns (as opposed to SMS Mackensen’s eight 13.8″/45s) and as much as 10 inches of armor plate. Ersatz Yorck had her keel laid at AG Vulcan in Hamburg in July 1916, but with production resources pivoting to U-boats, she never stood a chance and was eventually abandoned and broken up on the ways after the war. Her design did reportedly prove a starting point for the Kriegsmarine’s later Scharnhorst-class battleships, however.

Drawing of proposed Ersatz Yorck-class (1916), the German Imperial Navy’s final battlecruiser design, which never saw the water.

Our Yorck’s captain’s cabin was an important stepping stone for several future German admirals.

Her first skipper, KzS Leo Jacobson, by 1918 was a vice admiral and the fortress commander of Wilhelmshaven.

Her second commander, KzS Arthur Tapken, went on to head the Navy’s intelligence section, led a scouting squadron early in the Great War from the bridge of the battlecruiser SMS Von der Tann, and ended the war as a vice admiral and the fortress commander of Kiel.

Her fourth commander, KzS Ludwig von Reuter, went on to be the ignoble final commander of the High Seas Fleet, interned at Scapa Flow, and would order it to scuttle in June 1919.

KzS Max Köthner, Yorck’s fifth skipper, was director of the torpedo department at the shipyard in Wilhelmshaven, retiring in 1919 as a rear admiral.

Our cruiser’s sixth skipper, KzS Moritz von Egidy, famously commanded the Swiss-cheesed battlecruiser SMS Seydlitz at Jutland and ended the war as commandant of the Mürwik Naval Academy.

As for her seventh and final skipper, Waldemar Pieper was court-martialed in Wilhelmshaven for the sinking of the Yorck and sentenced to two years’ imprisonment in a fortress for disobeying orders and negligence. However, requested by name by Admiral Wilhelm Souchon as an artillery expert, he was paroled and seconded in February 1915 to Ottoman Turkey on probation, where he later distinguished himself to such an extent that Kaiser Willy commuted his sentence in December 1915. An Ottoman Pasha and major general, by 1916, he was the head inspector of the Turkish ordnance plants (Türk Silah Dairesi ve fabrikalari komutani) clustered around Constantinople, with 700 German experts supervising 14,000 local munitions workers. He returned to Germany in July 1917 to serve in the weapons bureau, and Pieper was later retired as a rear admiral (Konteradmiral) in 1919. He passed in early 1945, aged 73.

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

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