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Warship Wednesday, 7 January 2026: Wilbur’s Beachcombing

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 7 January 2026: Wilbur’s Beachcombing

Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. Catalog #: 80-G-432570

Above we see the modified Flower (Honesty) class frigate Prasae of the Royal Thai Navy aground behind enemy lines on the Korean east coast, some 75 years ago this week, in January 1951. Several U.N. personnel are standing on the beach near a boat, surveying the near-hopeless situation. An LCVP is also stranded just inshore of the frigate. Note ice on the shore and on the seaward side of the ship.

The hard-luck frigate may have been a loss, but all 111 of her survivors were all successfully plucked off the snow-covered beach by one intrepid “silver eagle” aviator and his primitive eggbeater.

Albeit slowly.

Amid a blizzard.

And under near constant enemy fire.

Meet Betony & Sind

Our subject started life as the Royal Navy’s Flower-class corvette HMS Betony (K274), ordered 8 December 1941– the day of the first Japanese attacks on British Hong Kong and other possessions in the Pacific, kicking off a whole new war.

Laid down 26 September 1942 at Alexander Hall and Sons in Aberdeen as Yard No. 687, the future Betony launched on 22 April 1943 and commissioned on 31 August 1943.

Her inaugural commander was the long-serving Lt. Nicholas Bryan John Stapleton, RD, RNR– who formerly was skipper of the Flower-class sister HMS Amaranthus (K 17), and before that the ASW whaler HMT Southern Pride (K 249).

HMS Betony (K274) underway, likely in British Home waters, circa 1943. IWM FL 2011

WWII Service

Our vessel suffered her first loss, with Act/Petty Officer Hubert M. Jones, P/SSX 20752, of her company listed as “died of wounds” on 28 November 1943 without further elaboration.

She was soon on convoy runs, tagging along with OS.59/ KMS.33 out of Liverpool for two weeks before 1943 was out.

After further workups in Scotland and a deployment to the Eastern Fleet at Trincomalee in early 1944, Stapleton handed command of the new Betony over to T/Lt. Percy Ellis Croisdale Pickles, RNVR, on 20 October 1944. While in the Indian Ocean, she performed escort duties for a dozen slow convoys on the CJ (Calcutta to Colombo) and BM/MB (Bombay to Colombo) runs between February and October 1944.

HMS Betony (K274) broadside view

She was loaned to the Royal Indian Navy in January 1945 and assigned to the hardscrabble Burma Coast Escort Force, operating alongside sistership corvettes HMIS Assam, HMS Meadowsweet, and HMS Tulip; the River-class frigates HMS Taff, Shiel, Lossie, Deveron, Test, and Nadder; and the old Town-class destroyers HMS Sennent (ex-USCGC Champlain) and Lulworth (ex-USCGC Chelan) out of Colombo.

When the war was all but over, Betony was officially commissioned on 24 August 1945 into the RIN as HMIS Sind, keeping her same pennant number (K274). Her only “Indian” skipper was T/A/Lt.Cdr. Leonard George Prowse, RINVR, formerly commander of the armed yacht HMS Rion (FY 024), who assumed command in March 1945.

With the corvette suffering from engine troubles, she was nominated for disposal and paid off on 17 May 1946

Bangkok Bound

Thailand had a winding path during WWII. Having fought in 1940-41 with the Vichy French over Cambodia (some things never change!), the country claimed neutrality until a near-bloodless “invasion” by Japan in December 1941, after which it entered into an outright military alliance that only ended post-VJ Day. Ceding territories its troops had seized in Burma and Malaya back to Britain and in Cambodia back to France under an American-brokered agreement in 1946, the country became the 55th nation to join the UN in December 1946 and swung more or less to the West.

This opened the country to military aid, which included receiving two surplus former RIN corvettes from Britain– ex-HMS Burnet/HMIS Gondwana (K 348) and our ex-HMS Betony/HMIS Sind on 15 May 1947. They were given a short refit and recommissioned into the Thai fleet as the frigates HTMS Bangpakong and HTMS Prasae, respectively.

HMTS Prasae

The British also transferred the humble 1,000-ton Algerine-class minesweeper HMS Minstrel (J 445), which became HTMS Phosamton (MSC-451).

The turnover ceremony was held in the naval dockyard of Singapore.

Although third-hand, the two surplus corvettes/frigates and the minesweeper were much appreciated and joined a Thai fleet that included the quaint but decrepit Thonburi-class coastal defense ship HTMS Sri Ayudhya (2,350-tons, 253 ft oal, 15 knots, 4×8″/50s, 4×3″/50s) whose sister had been sunk by the French in 1940, the 1,400-ton Japanese-built sloop HTMS Maeklong (which doubled as the royal yacht and naval cadet training ship), seven remaining pre-war Italian-built 300-ton Trad-class torpedo boats, the two old Armstrong-built Rattanakosindra-class gunboats (800 tons, 174 feet, 2×6″, 12 knots), four long-laid-up Japanese-built Matchanu-class costal submarines, and a handful of old coasters, dispatch, and survey vessels.

Later in 1947, the U.S. transferred three surplus PC-461-class 173-foot subchasers: HTMS Sarasin (ex USS PC-495), HTMS Thayanchon (ex USS PC-575), and HTMS Khamronsin (USS PC-609); and two LSM-1 class landing craft (ex USS LSM-333 and 338), further modernizing the Thai fleet, which by 1950 numbered 1,100 officers and 10,000 ratings.

Things were looking up.

Korea

In the wake of the Korean War in June 1950, Thailand was the first Asian nation (besides the exiled KMT on Taiwan, which is a whole ‘nother story) to offer ground troops to the UN Force. Before the end of the war, the anti-Chinese Prime Minister (former Field Marshal) Plaek Pibulsonggram wholeheartedly contributed over 11,700 ground troops (soon reequipped with U.S. uniforms and small arms), 40,000 tons of rice, and both of the country’s new frigates to the effort.

A newly formed unit of picked men, the 21st Infantry Regiment, Queen’s Guard (Thahan Suea Rachini), was drawn from across the Army.

Thai troops of the 21st Regiment embarking for Korea, October 1950. Note their French-style helmets, U.S.-marked haversacks, and Japanese-made Showa-period Mausers. Ultimately, more than 10,000 Thai troops would serve in the Korean War alongside U.S. forces, fighting notably at the Battle of Pork Chop Hill. (Photo: UN News Archives)

The two frigates, each with a picked crew of 110 officers and men, were made ready by early October 1950, and they would escort the first battalion of the Thai Army to Korea, with the latter carried on the old Japanese-built transport coaster HTMS Sichang, and the chartered merchant ship Hertamersk.

Prasae’s skipper was Prince (CDR) Uthaichalermlab Wutthichai, 35, who had learned his trade in England and had pinned on his lieutenant bars in 1938 before serving in WWII, and earning the Tritaphon Mongkut Thai among other decorations. Prince Wutthichai, the senior officer afloat, became the commodore of the little Thai squadron headed to Korea.

Some 307 Thai Navy personnel and ~1,200 troops left Thailand’s Khlong Toei port aboard the four ships on 22 October 1950, headed north. They arrived in Pusan on 7 November.

The U.S.-reequipped 21st Infantry, which soon earned the nickname the “Little Tigers,” served alongside the U.S. 1st Cavalry Division and would see hard combat in the Third Battle for Seoul and at Pork Chop Hill.

Once attached to the UN Forces on 10 November, the two Thai frigates were given a short overhaul in Japan, which included updated sonar and radar suites, then tasked for a month under CTF-95 as guard ships for the entrance to the naval roads at Sasebo, Japan, with Prasae on the morning shift and Bangpakong overnight.

Then came a more kinetic assignment.

In early January 1951, Prasae and Bangpakong were under Task Force 77 orders on the gun line off the east coast of Korea near the 38th parallel, providing fire support missions to troops ashore with their single 4-inch BL Mk.IXs, steaming with a destroyer force including USS Wallace L. Lind (DD-703) as part of the East Coast Blockading and Patrol Task Group (TG 95.2).

The first shelling operation on North Korea’s east coast by the Thai Navy began on 3 January, firing along the coast between latitudes 38 and 39 degrees North, between the cities of Changjon and Yangyang. On 5-6 January, shelling of railway stations, transportation routes, and military structures in the Chodo area was carried out.

Then came a blizzard that was so severe that it grounded carrier and most fixed wing sorties between 6 and 11 January and filled central Korea with snow showers, haze, smoke, low clouds, 30 knot winds, and fog, dropping visibility to zero and bottoming out thermometers, Prasae drifted into the shallows on the cape of Kisamun-dan in Hyeonbuk-myeon, Yangyang, Gangwon, North Korea. She was hard aground, at a 60-degree angle to the shoreline, just 200 yards offshore.

She was also in enemy held-territory some 16 klicks north of the 38th Parallel.

Stranded Thai frigate Prasae, January 1951 80-G-432568

The Lewis S. Parks Papers in the Harry S. Truman Library contain dozens of Navy images of the rescue operation, digitized (low rez) in the National Archives. They were taken in most cases by U.S. Navy LT William DuCoing, presumably of the USS Manchester, who “witnessed several enemy soldiers killed while on this beach.”

During a blizzard night, the Thailand Corvette Prasae grounded on North Korea’s eastern coast in enemy territory about 200 yards offshore, NARA 350892732

A group of unidentified Thai sailors makes a close inspection of the ship HMTS Prasae after it grounded on the Korean coast during a United Nations operation. NARA 350898508

During a blizzard night, the Thailand Corvette Prasae grounded on North Korea’s eastern coast in enemy territory about 200 yards offshore. The sailor in the foreground is unidentified. Jan. 6, 1951. NARA 350892736

A view of the coast of Korea, where the Thailand ship HMTS Prasae was grounded during a blizzard. NARA 350898520

Snow covers a beach in Korea during the evacuation of Thai troops from the grounded HMTS Prasae in enemy territory. NARA 350892752

The alert went out, and Task Force 77 sprang into action to save the stranded Thai warship and her crew.

The salvage operation included the old Gleaves-class destroyer/minesweeper USS Endicott (DMS-35), which tried to send in LCVPs to recover marooned Thai sailors, joined by Prasae’s sister Bangpakong, whose small boats attempted to approach the beach without success due to fierce surf and rollers.

Endicott’s sisters USS Thompson (DMS-38), Carmick (DMS-33), and Doyle (DMS-34) moved in to assist and clear lanes for mines. De-beaching lines were attempted by Comstock (LSD-19) and Bolster (ARS-38), which also proved unsuccessful.

A U.S. Navy salvage crew aboard the Thailand Corvette HMTS Prasae, which ran aground in enemy territory on the coast of Korea. Left to right, HMC E.P. Wacham, USN; Lieutenant Junior Grade M.D. Taylor, USN; and RM2 C.K. Hayard, USN. Note, only three names were listed. 80-G-426187

Endicott rescued three Thai sailors after they were washed overboard from one of the pulling boats, but unfortunately, a fourth one drowned. Endicott’s doctor and chief corpsman also went ashore to care for casualties until they could be evacuated.

With carrier aircraft grounded due to the poor flying conditions, fire support to keep interloping Chicom and Nork troops at bay was provided by the Cleveland-class light cruiser USS Manchester (CL-83) and her companion destroyers USS English (DD-696), Borie (DD-704), Hank (DD-702), and Forrest Royal (DD-872).

Truman got a White House briefing on Prasae at least ten times during this period as part of his daily situation reports on the war.

The USS Manchester guards the grounded HMTS Prasae with destroyers and other ships while rescue efforts take place in enemy territory on shore. NARA 350892746

Two unidentified U.S. sailors unwrap blankets brought to stranded sailors from Thailand. In the background, their ship, the HMTS Prasae, can be seen where she grounded on the Korean coast during a blizzard. The Prasae was part of a United Nations operation when she ran aground. Gunfire from the USS Manchester protected the stranded sailors and rescuers from enemy troops. NARA 350898492

Early attempts at using helicopters in the rescue proved fatal.

As noted by NHHC:

On 8 January, a Sikorsky H03S1 of Helicopter Utility Squadron TWO (HU-2) embarked on the carrier USS Valley Forge, maneuvered near Prasae when a rogue wave caused the ship to roll. The helicopter’s rotors hit the mast, causing the mast to collapse and the helicopter to crash in flames, which then ignited 20mm shells, causing more damage to the ship. The crew put the fire out in under 30 minutes. Somewhat miraculously, the helicopter pilot, Lieutenant (junior grade) John W. Thornton, his aircrewman, and a salvage officer all survived the crash, but another Thai sailor drowned.

Manchester was lucky enough to have a replacement Sikorsky HO3S-1 (H-5/S-51) helicopter (“UP27” BuNo 122715) detached from Helicopter Utility Squadron 1 (HU-1) aboard USS Philippine Sea.

Nicknamed Clementine, she was piloted by the one and only Chief Aviation Structural Mechanic, ADC (Aviation Pilot), Duane Wilbur Thorin (NSN: 3165995). An enlisted pilot who joined the Navy in 1939 at age 19 and earned his silver NAP wings after finishing flight training in 1943. The blonde-haired Thorin– eighth son of Swedish emigrants to Nebraska– moved into rotary-wing billets after the war. He had already earned something of a swashbuckling reputation, shuttling out on one-man missions to rescue downed fliers in his contraption, typically while clad in his trademark non-regulation green headgear.

Clementine wasn’t much, with her 450hp R-985 Wasp Junior only enabling her to lift about 900 pounds of useful cargo (pilot included) off the ground on a full tank of gas in good weather, but she was on hand and had enough range to shuttle back and forth from Prasae to Manchester.

A Sikorsky HO3S-1 (H-5) helicopter lands on the deck of the USS Manchester, with the cruiser’s 6- and 5-inch guns bristling in an undated photograph in good weather. The helicopter is BuNo 124345 (MSN 51204), which survived the war. NARA 350898476

USS Manchester (CL-83) Sikorski HO3S helicopter, UP20 of squadron HU-1, lands on the cruiser’s after deck after a gunfire spotting mission off the Korean coast, March 1953. Note: Manchester’s wooden decking with aircraft tie-down strips and hangar cover tracks; 6″/47 triple gun turrets; 5″/38 and 3″/50 twin gun mounts. NH 92578

With the likelihood that the grounded ship could be pulled off while under fire dropping to zero, and hypothermia setting in with the survivors who were running out of supplies and battling below-zero temperatures overnight, the order went to Clementine to pull them off, typically just two or three men at a time.

On inbound flights to Prasae, Thorin and Clementine dropped off a small medical team under Doc Myers, and a security team under LT Taylor to help guard and mark the LZ for future flights. At one point, they exchanged long-distance shots with a four-man enemy patrol just over the dunes.

They also brought blankets and some hot chow.

An aerial view of the frigate from Thailand, the HMTS Prasae, that ran aground off the western coast of North Korea during a snowstorm. The image was taken from the rescue helicopter sent from the USS Manchester. Original caption: HMTS Prasae as seen from Manchester copter. UN ships are firing air bursts. NARA 350898532

A crewman from the grounded Thailand ship HMTS Prasae stands guard as the helicopter from the USS Manchester shuttles the stranded sailors to safety. NARA 350898468

A helicopter from the USS Philippine Sea, piloted by Chief Aviation Pilot D. W. Thorin, lands on the snowy beach to effect the rescue of the crew of the Thailand ship HMTS Prasae. The Prasae, which was part of a United Nations operation, grounded during a snowstorm. The rescue team was surrounded by enemy troops during the operation, but was protected by gunfire from the USS Manchester. Jan.6, 1951. NARA 350898472

Under enemy fire, unidentified troops and crew members from the USS Manchester use their ship’s helicopter to rescue crew from the HMTS Prasae, which ran aground off the coast of Korea during a blizzard. Lieutenant Taylor is in the foreground, guarding the helicopter with a (likely borrowed) M50 Madsen SMG. 350892804

Dr. Meyers of the USS Manchester attends to the wounded on the shore after the Thailand Corvette HMTS Prasae ran aground off the North Korean coast during a blizzard. All others are unidentified. NARA 350892744

Under enemy fire, unidentified troops and crew members from the run aground HMTS Prasae take shelter on the beach while they await rescue from the USS Manchester helicopter. NARA 350892780

Under enemy fire, unidentified troops and crew members from the run aground HMTS Prasae take shelter on the beach while they await rescue from the USS Manchester helicopter. NARA 350892784

Under enemy fire, troops and crew members from the run aground HMTS Prasae take shelter on the beach while they await rescue from the USS Manchester helicopter. NARA 350892762

APC (NAP) Thorin prepares to take off in his helicopter with another load of survivors from the Thailand corvette, the HMTS Prasae, which ran aground during a blinding snowstorm off the coast of Korea. Other members of the helicopter stand guard as the rescue was conducted behind enemy lines.  Men guarding the rescue operation are armed with M-3 submachine guns. NH 97164

During personnel evacuations on a beach in Korea, two enemy shell bursts are visible. The USS Manchester aided in the evacuation of stranded Thai sailors from the HMTS Prasae that ran aground during a blizzard. NARA 350892750

The USS Manchester’s helicopter, nicknamed the Clementine, lands on the snow-covered beach at Kisamun Dan, Korea. A rescue mission was launched after the HMTS Prasae, a Thai Corvette, ran aground on Korea’s Eastern Coast during a blizzard. The HMTS Prasae is in the foreground. NARA 350892788

Thai sailors are stranded on the western coast of Korea after their ship, the HMTS Prasae, ran aground during a snowstorm. At a snow-covered beach, the United States Navy helicopter UP 27 arrives to rescue the sailors. NARA 350898526

An unidentified Thai sailor from the HMTS Prasae boards the rescue helicopter. The helicopter, which had been borrowed from the USS Philippine Sea after the USS Manchester’s helicopter crashed, was piloted by Chief (Aviation Pilot) D. W. Thorin, who can be seen inside the helicopter facing the camera. NARA 350898512

Under enemy fire, unidentified troops and crew members from the USS Manchester use their ship’s helicopter to rescue crew from the HMTS Prasae, which ran aground off the coast of Korea during a blizzard. NARA 350892798

Meanwhile, CDR Wutthichai, the stricken ship’s skipper, directed his navigators and gunners to destroy anything that could be useful to the enemy, doused the ship with oil and placed gunpowder in various locations, and then left the ship last.

Wutthichai was likewise the final man that Clementine pulled from the beach.

The USS Manchester’s helicopter, nicknamed the Clementine, lands on the snow-covered beach at Kisamun Dan, Korea. A rescue mission was launched after the HTMS Prasae, a Thai Corvette, ran aground on Korea’s Eastern Coast during a blizzard. Original caption: With the temperature at 12 degrees below zero, the last of Commander Wutthichai’s crew are evacuated. NARA 350892786

Over the three days between 11 and 13 January, Chief Thorin and Clementine pulled 126 men from Prasae in 40 sorties, 111 Thai and 15 USN, bringing them all safely to Manchester’s little wooden helo deck.

Seventeen of the 111 evacuees from the Thailand corvette, HMTS Prasae, wear U.S. Navy-issued dungarees while aboard the USS Manchester. NARA 350892830

Of Prasae’s crew, two were killed in the grounding and drawn-out rescue under fire: Petty Officer 2nd Class Chan Muang-am and Petty Officer 2nd Class Phuan Phonsayam, both later posthumously promoted to CPO. Twenty-seven of her crew were injured, with a mixture of frostbite and shrapnel as the cause of wounds.

The unmanned and wrecked hulk of Prasae was destroyed by naval gunfire from USS English on 13 January, via 50 rounds of 5-inch common.

Those not hospitalized in Japan were soon shipped aboard Bangpakong.

Survivors of the stricken Thailand corvette HTMS Prasae board the Thailand corvette HMTS Bang Pakong, off the coast of Korea. Photograph released January 17, 1951. 80-G-426769

As for her sister Bangpakong (ex-Burnet, ex-Gondwana), she remained in Korean service until February 1952 and in Thai service until stricken in 1984.

Epilogue

With the Thai government still eager to contribute to the effort in Korea, the U.S. Navy quickly sold them two laid-up Tacoma-class patrol frigates, late of the Soviet Red Banner Pacific Fleet via Lend-Lease, the USS Glendale (PF-36) and USS Gallup (PF-47), for the princely sum of $861,940.

Transferred in October 1951 at Yokosuka, Glendale became the Thai Navy ship Tachin. Gallup became the Thai Navy ship Prasae. Along with them came five more PC-461s, two LCIs, and three surplus SC-1627-class 119-foot subchasers, these smaller vessels slated for immediate service in Thai coastal waters while the frigates remained deployed.

USS Glendale (PF-36) and USS Gallup (PF-47) fly the flags of Thailand during transfer ceremonies at Yokosuka Naval Base, Japan, 29 October 1951. Both ships are still wearing their U.S. Navy numbers. NH 97102

Following a workup in Japanese waters, the new Prasae and Tachin departed Sasebo on 12 January 1952 in company with sistership USS Bisbee (PF 46) on their first escort mission since their purchase by and addition to the Thailand Navy.

The new pair of frigates served for the duration of the Korean War and well into the tense shift into peace, rotating crews with fresh ones shipped in from Thailand at least twice. Both departed South Korea for their first trip home on 22 January 1956, nearly three years after the shooting had stopped! Some 2,485 Thai naval personnel served in Korean waters, with 1,679 of them receiving UN service medals. Two Thai naval personnel were also awarded U.S. Bronze stars.

In the course of Thailand’s involvement in the Korean War, the country suffered 1,273 casualties, comprising 129 killed in action (including two Navy), 1,139 wounded, and 5 missing. The country maintained a company-sized infantry force in the ROK to watch the DMZ until July 1972. They continue to contribute two officers and 13 enlisted to the more or less permanent UNC Military Armistice Commission-Secretariat (UNCMAC-S) in South Korea today.

Speaking of South Korea today, with the border shifting slightly to the line of contact in place when the armistice was signed, the cape that Praese was grounded on has been part of the ROK since 1953, and these days is often referred to as “38th Parallel Beach,” a popular surfing spot (in the summer).

Prince Wutthichai, Praese’s final skipper, returned home with his crew in March 1951, married Princess Vimolchat, and had two children. Decorated with the Order of the White Elephant in 1953, he passed just five years later, aged 43. There seems to be a story there.

Chief Thorin fully earned a Distinguished Flying Cross for his rescue efforts on the grounded Prasae, then added a Gold Star to his DFC in November 1951 while flying from the cramped deck of the cruiser USS Toledo (CA-133) to successfully pluck a downed pilot trapped some 60 miles behind the enemy’s lines. He added a second Gold Star to his DFC in January 1952 while operating from USS Rochester (CV-124) for picking up two downed pilots just offshore of Hungnam– while under small arms fire from the edge of the beach– in two separate trips.

Just six months after the rescue of Prasae’s crew, Clementine, the helicopter used so successfully, UP 27 (BuNo. 122715), went missing on a rescue mission near Kosong, Korea, with her pilot killed and crewman taken prisoner. Luckily, Chief Thorin was not at the controls that day.

Thorin’s luck ran out in February 1952 when flying a whirlybird from Rochester on a mission to rescue an injured and critically ill Skyraider pilot off Valley Forge LT(j.g) Harry Ettenger of VC-35– who was down behind enemy lines and being harbored by anti-Communist North Korean partisans. The mission, over known enemy anti-aircraft positions near Kojo, Korea, was almost successful, but at the last minute, Thorin’s helicopter crashed due to mechanical problems. Taken prisoner along with Ettenger, he was a resident of POW Camp 2 until his release during Operation Big Switch on 2 September 1953. He earned a Silver Star for the mission (recommended for the Navy Cross), adding to his three DFCs.

Thorin made over 130 rescues in hostile territory during the Korean War, not counting those from Prasae.

Thorin retired from the Navy in 1959 as a lieutenant and passed “feet dry” in 2002, aged 82. He is buried at Chambers Cemetery, Holt County, Nebraska, Block 1, Lot 35.

Thorin was used as the basis for CPO (NAP) Mike Forney, the enlisted CSAR pilot in The Bridges at Toko-Ri by Pulitzer Prize winner James Michener. Icon Mickey Rooney portrayed him in the movie adaptation, which was filmed in Technicolor in 1954 aboard the USS Oriskany (CV-34). Real UP-coded H-5s were used, and Rooney portrayed his based-on-a-real-story character well, albeit with a green tophat and scarf rather than Thorin’s more understated green ballcap.

That’s Hollywood for you.

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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Warship Wednesday 31 December 2025: What a wee bit of Whale Oil Tax gets you

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 31 December 2025: What a bit of Whale Oil Taxes Gets You

(Photographer: James Edward Farrington, radio operator; British Antarctic Survey Archives ref: AD6/19/1A/201/3)

Above we see the unique British polar research ship-turned minesweeper HMS William Scoresby (J 122) approaching Deception Island, in the South Shetland Islands, circa 1944, during Operation Tabarin, the little-known WWII Royal Navy expedition to Antarctica.

A humble 370-tonner that ran 134 feet from bow to stern, Scoresby launched 31 December 1925, a century ago today, and became an icy legend.

Meet Scoresby

Our subject was named for William Scoresby, Jr, a whaling captain and almost accidental Arctic scientist and later ordained Church of England clergyman, who was born in Cropton, near Pickering, Yorkshire, on 5 October 1789.

A veteran of numerous whaling voyages to far off, oft-frozen waters (his first at age 10 with his sea captain father, a man later credited with inventing the crows nest), he penned his An Account of the Arctic Regions in 1820, one of the first clear-eyed examinations of such areas, followed up by Journal of a Voyage to the Northern Whale Fishery three years later. These volumes have been called “the beginning of the scientific study of the polar regions.”

Besides his work as a whaler and explorer, Scoresby was also the first chaplain of the Mariners’ Floating Church and passed away in 1857.

In practical terms, the good Rev. Scoresby charted 400 miles of East Greenland’s coast– with most of his place names still in use– and his meticulous ship logs, including weather and current data, provide valuable information for climatologists even today.

Ordered as one of His Majesty’s Royal Research Ships– in the same vein as the legendary RRS Discovery, Scott’s old ship– for the Government of the Falkland Islands from Hull-based trawler maker Cook, Welton & Gemmell in East Riding of Yorkshire (Yard No. 477), the future RRS William Scoresby was launched on New Years Eve 1925, christened by the Lady Harmer.

Built on spec for a thrifty £34,303 to the modified plans of a whale catcher, her intended primary service was to study and mark whales and to conduct research trawls for the South Atlantic fisheries. At the time, it was seen that data on the biological and physical conditions affecting the distribution of the whale stock were of preeminent importance.

Ice-strengthened, she was 134 feet in length, 26 in beam, and could make 12 knots. Her triple-expansion steam engines were built by Amos and Smith of Hull. She had a powerful commercial winch and port side gallows, which would allow her to tow a full-sized otter trawl.

Scoresby AWM P08145001

Her only armament at the time were a couple of revolvers for problems that needed revolvers and a few 12-bore (12 gauge) single-shot marker guns, developed by Holland & Holland to fire special 10-inch marker darts on an Eley-Kynoch charge that could be recovered during the harvest and returned (for a £1 reward), allowing the data of the whale’s travel from when and where it was darted to when and where it was harvested to be cataloged.

The darts were engraved with “Reward for return to the Colonial Office, London” and later “Return to Discovery British Museum [Nat History] London.

Between 1934 and 1938, 5,219 whales of six species were marked in the Southern Hemisphere using such guns from Scoresby and Discovery II, yielding significant data on migration patterns for species such as Blue, Fin, and Humpback whales.

Scoresby also possessed a sampling and sounding winch for oceanographic surveys, along with a small onboard laboratory for conducting scientific work on plankton and hydrology. While deployed, in addition to whales and their krill, the humble vessel’s embarked scientific detachment also branched out to study seals, bird life, lichens, mosses, and algae.

The same fund that paid for Scoresby, raised from taxes levied on whaling exports from the Falkland Island Dependencies and on the whaling companies, in the same year established a new £10,000 marine station at the whaling station at Grytviken on South Georgia Island, later of Falklands 1982 fame.

Once launched and floated down the River Hull for fitting out in Hull’s Queen’s Dock, the RRS William Scoresby was completed on 14 June 1926.

Her first Master was George M Mercer (Lieutenant Commander, RNR), and she arrived at Cape Town two months later to join RRS Discovery. Over the next 13 years, her skippers were all officers either on the Royal Navy’s retired or reserve list.

Scoresby completed seven voyages to Antarctic waters between 1926 and 1937, operating initially with the old RRS Discovery and after 1929 the new RRS Discovery II, based mainly out of Port Stanley in the Falklands and Grytviken on South Georgia– in the very shadow of Shackleton’s grave.

The William Scoresby moored at a snow-covered wharf, believed to be at South Georgia Island, circa 1930. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/73]

A ship just visible behind a large iceberg, identified as ‘William Scoresby sheltering beneath iceberg’. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/15B]

Coupled with the 13 “Discovery Investigation” voyages made by Discovery I and II in roughly the same period, these missions advanced the understanding of everything in the Antarctic along biological and oceanographic lines.

The 172-foot three-masted barque RRS Discovery I. Scott’s ship, she was taken into service by the British government in 1923 for £5000, becoming the first Royal Research Ship after a controversial £114,000 refit. Replaced in 1929 by a purpose-built steamer with the same name, she later served as the base for the British, Australian, and New Zealand Antarctic Research Expedition (BANZARE) under Douglas Mawson.

The 1081-GRT, 272-foot steel-hulled RRS Discovery II during one of her scientific voyages in Antarctica between 1929 and 1951.

Between voyages, which were usually six-seven months long, Scoresby typically retired to Portsmouth Dockyard for repairs to damages incurred while among the ice floes and bergs. Dredged seabed rocks and preserved biological specimens were brought back for further study.

If too banged up for the 8,000nm return trip to England, she would call at Montevideo– the closest friendly port to the Falklands, some 1,200 miles west– in a pinch, or at the Royal Dockyard at Simonstown, South Africa (2,000 miles East) instead.

The ‘William Scoresby nearing Simonstown, South Africa, for dry dock and repair’, with dark smoke issuing from the funnel. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/15F]

William Scoresby in dry dock for repairs, likely Simonstown, circa 1930. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/12C]

During this period, her crew tagged and tracked something on the order of 3,000 whales alone and “undertook studies on plankton, fish, and hydrological surveys.” These results were published from Cambridge in the Discovery Reports.

The exception to the rule and the longest of these pre-war voyages was the two and a half year 1928-1930 Second Wilkins-Hearst Antarctic Expedition, so called as it was led by Australian explorer (and soon to be knighted) Hubert Wilkins, MC and Bar, and funded by newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. Among the cargo and specialized gear crammed aboard Scoresby was a Baby Austin car equipped with snow chains.

This voyage included loading up one of the expedition’s two Lockheed Vega floatplanes on her stern via the ship’s jib crane boom at Deception Island and heading South, aiming for the first trans-Antarctic flight.

Loading a Lockheed Vega floatplane to ship. Aeroplane is marked “Wilkins Hearst”. The ship is the “William Scoresby”. Probably taken by the attached biologist George Rayner. Museums Victoria Collections https://collections.museumsvictoria.com.au/items/393662 Accessed 30 December 2025

Ploughing through breaking ice. The Research Ship William Scoresby of Sir Hubert Wilkins’ Expedition photographed from the air off the byplane [sic] which she carried on board, together with a tractor, and three life boats.’ State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/72]

Royal Research Ship (RRS) William Scoresby in pack ice, Beascochea Bay, Argentine Islands, off the West coast of Graham Land, Antarctica. The photograph appears to have been taken during the Second Wilkins-Hearst Antarctic Expedition of 1929-1930, when an attempt was made to fly over the South Pole by plane. The Lockheed seaplane used by H. Wilkins can be seen secured on the afterdeck of the ship. Museums Victoria Collections https://collections.museumsvictoria.com.au/items/393816 Accessed 30 December 2025

Scoresby sailed just below the 67th parallel in an attempt to find somewhere suitable to take off for an attempted flight across Antarctica, but in the end was unable to find a suitable place on the ice to take off with sufficient fuel to complete such a long flight.

Nonetheless, the floatplane did make several shorter flights completed over a period of weeks, in December 1929 and January 1930.

Scoresby moored close to a deep snow-covered shoreline with a steep rocky mountain ridge partially visible in the background to the right. On the afterdeck of the ship is a light aeroplane slung from a jib crane boom attached to the aft-mast. Museums Victoria Collections https://collections.museumsvictoria.com.au/items/393656 Accessed 30 December 2025

The Lockheed Vega fitted with pontoons due to ice-free conditions and moored alongside the William Scoresby. State Library South Australia PRG 675/1/2A

Lockheed Vega on water alongside the William Scoresby. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/16D]

Lockheed Vega taking off along William Scoresby. State Library South Australia [PRG 675/1/3A]

RRS Discovery II continued such work with floatplanes in the Antarctic, supporting the Ellsworth “Polar Star” which was a specially modified Northrop Gamma 2B monoplane, and embarking two RAAF Gipsy Moths and seven air/ground crew for her 1935-36 expedition.

At least 41 members of Scoresby’s circa 1926-39 crews were authorized bronze or silver Polar Medals “for good services” in 1941, a rare award that to this day has only been handed out less than 1,000 times, as it requires at least 12 months of arduous service in such a region to qualify to receive. By comparison, the U.S. Antarctica Service Medal, the primary medal for American Antarctic service, can be earned these days with just 10 days spent on orders south of 60°S latitude.

War!

When the war kicked off, RRS Discovery II was turned over to the Admiralty and served with the Royal Fleet Auxiliary, mainly in the North Atlantic as a buoy tender and rescue ship out of Scotland, before resuming her Antarctic survey work only after the war ended.

Meanwhile, our subject, at the time laid up at St Katherine’s Dock, London, was taken over by the Admiralty in October 1939 and by January 1940 became HM Minesweeping Trawler Scoresby (J122) armed with a single “rather antique looking” manually trained 12 pounder (3-inch) gun on her bow (likely one of the 3,494 Mk I and II guns 12cwt QF 3″/40s on hand in RN stocks hand left over from the Great War) and some basic mechanical sweep gear (paravanes, etc.). This was augmented by a Lewis gun and a few small arms.

Her first wartime skipper was CDR (Retired) Harry Petit-Dann, RD, RNR, originally minted a lieutenant in 1924 and moved to the retired list in 1926.

On 1 May 1940, Scoresby sailed as an escort for ships in Convoy OG.28F, which was formed at sea and arrived at Gibraltar a week later. It had to be hairy as the convoy had 44 merchant ships and just three escorts, our little research vessel, the old destroyer HMS Versatile (D32), and the sloop HMS Folkestone (L22).

From Gibraltar, Scoresby continued alone down the West African coast on patrol.

By mid-May, she was part of the 93rd Minesweeper Group at Freetown, Sierra Leone, joining five other minesweeping trawlers there briefly before shifting across the South Atlantic to Rio de Janeiro in June.

Finally, on 23 January 1941, Scoresby pulled into her old haunt at Port Stanley in the Falklands, assuming station at the local shore establishment “stone frigate” there dubbed HMS Pursuivant. The only other armed floating military assets in the Falklands at the time were the minesweeping whaler HMT Roydur and the minesweeping drifter HMT Afterglow.

There, Scoresby remained on quiet duty, patrolling from Port Stanley in West Falkland to old Port Louis, East Falklands, part of the local effort to defend against passing German raiders and U-boats, as well as interloping Argentine naval ships who were planting flags around the British Antarctic Territories. This duty grew more tense after December 1941, when Churchill feared a move by the Japanese to seize the Falklands.

While the cruisers HMS Ajax, Achilles, Exeter, and Cumberland had sheltered at various times in the Falklands during their Graf Spee chase in late 1939, later joined by HMS Dorsetshire and Shropshire the islands were left fairly on their own after even the old heavy cruiser HMS Hawkins was shifted from the South Atlantic to the Indian Ocean in late 1940 as the traffic in German commerce raiders and blockade runners had thinned– or at least they thought.

A red alert went through the Falklands after the German Hilfskreuzer Pinguin (HSK 5) raided into Antarctic waters in January 1941, where it captured the whole of the Norwegian whaling fleet: three factory ships and 11 chasers, capturing a whopping 20,000 tons of precious whale oil in the process. The Admiralty dispatched the armed merchant cruiser HMS Queen of Bermuda to patrol the waters for a few months in response, but even she resumed her regular duties.

A 1,700-man reinforced battalion (11th West Yorks) arrived in the Falklands in 1942 and would remain ashore into early 1944 when they were replaced by a smaller force of Royal Scots. Other than Scoresby and her two fellow armed trawlers, that was it for local defense in the islands, barring passing Allied warships taking the “long way around” Cape Horn.

A small force of several RN armed merchant cruisers protected Simonstown to Freetown convoys up the Southwest coast of Africa, but they generally came nowhere near the Falklands except for a short patrol by HMS Carnarvon Castle in January 1943 to respond to Argentine flag-raising antics on far-away Deception Island.

Meanwhile, CDR Petit-Dann was relieved as Scoresby’s skipper in mid-1942 by one T./Lt Thomas Gentle, RNR– who soon left to command the new Algerine-class minesweeper HMS Welcome (J 386)— and T./Lt. Harold Olaf Olsen, RNR, a Norwegian-born officer who by early 1944 left to command the ASW whaler HMS Thirlmere (FY 206)/ex-Kos XXVI.

This left Scoresby in early 1944 in command of Lt Victor Aloysius John Baptist Marchesi, RN, recently arrived in the islands from England with the mysterious 14 members of Naval Parties 475 and 476, aboard the troop ship HMT Highland Monarch, hitching a ride with the Royal Scots coming to relieve the miserable 11th West Yorks.

The London-born Marchesi was only 30 at the time but was more than qualified, having served some months as an RNR officer in the battlecruiser HMS Hood before joining the Brocklebank Line before the war. As fourth officer in the RRS Discovery II in January 1936, he helped rescue the American airman Lincoln Ellsworth and his Canadian co-pilot, Herbert Hollick-Kenyon, from the Ross ice shelf.

Transferring to the Royal Navy at the outbreak of the war, in addition to commanding Scoresby, Marchesi was also the 2IC of NP 475/476, which had been handpicked by T/LCDR. James William Slessor Marr, RNVR, a 42-year-old Scottish marine biologist and polar explorer who had sailed with Shackleton on the Quest as a lad, took part in the BANZARE expedition, and been a member of both Discovery II and Scoresby’s pre-war crews at one time or another. At the time, Marr already had a mountain named after him in Antarctica, as well as a bay named in his honor in the South Orkney Islands, and had earned both a Polar Medal (with clasp) and a W. S. Bruce Medal.

There was reason Scoresby had such a man in charge.

Tabarin

The expedition was named Operation Tabarin after Bal Tabarin, a famed and chaotic Paris cabaret and nightclub second only to the Moulin Rouge, as a sort of tongue-in-cheek stab at the chaotic nature of the endeavor. Ironically, at the time, the real Bal Tabarin on Rue Victor-Massé just off the Seine was favored by both the German officer corps in Paris and the movers and shakers of the Resistance.

Their mission: establish year-round British bases in the far south, at Deception Island at a minimum, to deny its use in sheltering German, Japanese, or Argentine vessels and strengthen Britannia’s assertions of sovereignty over its claimed Falkland Islands Dependencies

Scoresby took the place of NP 475/476s former mothership, the condemned Norwegian sealing vessel Veslekari. Taken up in Iceland in 1943 and renamed HMS Bransfield, the old sealer proved unsuited for the task and was abandoned, the party left to ship to the Falklands via HMT Highland Monarch while their equipment was transshipped as cargo to Montevideo on other vessels.

Scoresby was assigned as escort to the slightly larger but very familiar coaster Fitzroy (ex-Lafonia), a 165-foot/853-ton steamer which had built by Henry Robb in 1931 for the Falkland Islands Company to serve as the inter-islands mail ship. The islands’ only dedicated lifeline to the world, the needs of the Crown took priority, and she was used first to retrieve the expedition’s equipment from Montevideo before the two vessels set out, bound for Deception Island.

Fitzroy

On 29 January 1944, they left Port Stanley, headed south. 

The first installation, established on 3 February 1944, was Base B, at Whaler’s Bay, on Deception Island, where Carnarvon Castle had called the year prior. Importantly, they had a radio to report any enemy vessels or interactions and were in regular communication with Port Stanley.

Marchesi later said in a postwar interview that, until inside the harbor, he could not see whether it was occupied by an Argentine warship or a German U-boat. “Just as well,” he said, “because my one handgun and William Scoresby’s puny bow-mounted gun would hardly have put the fear of death into anyone.”

The second, larger, post would be Base A, at Port Lockroy, on nearby Goudier Island in the Gerlache Strait, established on 11 February. The base was to have been at Hope Bay on the Antarctic mainland, but Fitzroy was not ice-strengthened and could not risk the sea ice in the bay.

It was sparse to say the least.

As described by the British Antarctic Survey:

The base at Port Lockroy was built on Goudier Island in February 1944. It housed a nine-man wintering team. The hut was erected from prefabricated sections, and some timber used in the construction was salvaged from an abandoned whaling station on Deception Island. The building contained a mess room where the men ate, relaxed, and slept, a work room, a kitchen, a store room, and a generator room. There was even a bathroom. However, because water was rationed, only the person whose turn it was to gather and melt the ice or snow was allowed to bathe. This meant up to nine days between baths!

Unloading cargo for the construction of Base A on Goudier Island, Antarctic Peninsula (1944) British Antarctic Survey Archives.

The secrecy bubble popped, and in April 1944, the existence of both bases was shared globally via a BBC announcement, news that reached the polar outposts– men alone on a continent of some 5 million square miles– and left them amused.

All 14 members of the expedition wintered over the 1944 season, and a third base was set up on the mainland at Hope Bay (Base D) on 13 February 1945, where the Union Jack was unfurled on a 20-foot pole that had been found near the remains of the hut from Otto Nordenskjold’s circa 1901 Swedish Antarctic Expedition.

Dog teams were brought in by Tabarin in 1945 to increase surveying capabilities at Hope Bay, Trinity Peninsula.

On the way back to Port Stanley in 1945, Scoresby stopped at Scotia Bay on Laurie Island to “show the flag” to a group of frostbitten Argentinean meteorologists who had been stuck at their Orcadas Station for 14 months. A little tit-for-tat in the ice.

Scoresby, Fitzroy, and two chartered vessels, SS Eagle and MV Trepassey, would return to the region from the Falklands in early 1946 to resupply the posts and swap out personnel.

Tabarin was extensively documented, with some 1,800 images preserved from the operation today.

For a deeper dive on the operation, check out Operation Tabarin: Britain’s secret wartime expedition to Antarctica, 1944-46 by Stephen Haddelsey.

Post-war service

HMS Scoresby (J122) saw her military service under the Admiralty cease in September 1946.

Landing her gun, she was sent for a major  £11,900 refit and, in November 1949, was released to the Admiralty outright to continue her service under the RFA. She spent the first 10 months of 1950 conducting research into whales off the west coast of Australia– sailing to Fremantle and back to England via the South Atlantic.

On 26 February 1951, the Admiralty transferred Scoresby to the newly formed National Institute of Oceanography, and she would continue serving with that organization in the Southern Ocean for the next two years.

Paid off, ex-Scoresby was on the January 1953 Disposal List, offered for sale for £2,500. She lingered on the list for 17 months until a bid of £1,900 from BISCO (British Iron and Steel Corporation) for demolition was accepted, with her salvaged radio equipment fetching a further £600.

And that was that.

Epilogue

Human habitation of Antarctica has been continuous since the establishment of the first two Tabarin bases by Scoresby and Fitzroy in February 1944.

The scientific observations and surveys initiated during Tabarin continued after the War, and the work was put on a long-term footing under the Colonial Office as the Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey (FIDS). FIDS was re-named the British Antarctic Survey in 1962 and continues today.

Port Lockroy was occupied until 1962, Hope Bay until 1964, and Deception Island until 1967, replaced by newer, less militaristic installations inside the British Antarctic Territory, which formed in 1962 after the Antarctic Treaty came into force. They have been replaced by the year-round Rothera Research Station on Adelaide Island and four smaller stations (Signy, Fossil Bluff, Sky Blu, and Halley VI) that don’t overwinter.

Of note, Base A (Port Lockroy) is now the famous “Penguin Post Office.”

The BAS’s current dedicated research and logistic support ship these days is the hulking 15,000-ton RRS Sir David Attenborough (aka “Boaty McBoatface”), which entered service in 2021, backed up by the armed RN icebreaker HMS Protector.

The archives of the Discovery Investigations are held by the National Oceanographic Library.

The British Antarctic Oral History Project includes interviews with members of the ship’s company, which provides insight into the daily life onboard ship.

A bay on the coast of Antarctica’s Kemp Land, discovered by Scoresby’s crew in 1936, was named after her.

As for Scoresby’s former pals, Fitzroy continued to sail between the Falklands to Montevideo, South Georgia, and Graham Land (Antarctica) until 1957, when she was scrapped. RRS Discovery II’s final Antarctic voyage wrapped in 1951, but she continued to work as an oceanographic ship in the North Atlantic until she was scrapped in 1962. She was replaced by a third RRS Discovery in 1962, which, at 4,378 DWT, was the largest general-purpose oceanographic research vessel in use by the Brits until 2006. The current fourth RRS Discovery joined the fleet in 2013.

When it comes to Scoresby’s Operation Tabarin skipper, LT Marchesi remained in the Royal Navy post-war, served two years aboard the carrier HMS Unicorn during Korea, lectured at public schools about naval careers, and was the senior RNR officer in Northern Ireland. In retirement, he worked for Bass, was a port relief officer for Cunard, and land-locked captain of the famed clipper Cutty Sark at Greenwich.

In 2005, Marchesi recounted the story of Operation Tabarin for the BBC, and his exploits were commemorated in a series of stamps issued by the Falkland Islands in the same year (and reissued for the 80th anniversary recently).

Victor Marchesi, captain of the expedition support ship, HMS William Scoresby, and 2nd-in-command of Operation Tabarin, Jan 1946. (Photographer: M. Sadler. Archives ref: AD6/19/2/E402/43a)

He passed in December 2006, aged a ripe 92.

His obituary notes:

At sea, Marchesi recalled keeping watch for hours on the exposed bridge of Scoresby during icy gales and, when off watch, feeling pain in his hands and feet as his circulation returned. In the winter months, Marchesi serviced the remote islands of the Falklands and, for three months each year, refitted his ship in the bright lights of unrationed Montevideo. There he met a talented, multi-lingual secretary in the embassy who contrived a passage to Port Stanley; she was waiting for him when he returned from his third southern voyage, and they were married within the hour.

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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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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Warship Wednesday 10 December 2025: Dutch Avenger

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 10 December 2025: Dutch Avenger

NIMH Objectnummer 2158_014036

Above we see the kanonneerboot (gunboat) Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen (U 93) arriving at Willemstad, Curaçao, Dutch Antilles, on Halloween 1939, complete with a large Dutch flag painted amidships as a mark of neutrality. While she arrived to be a station ship in a neutral country’s overseas territory during the first months of WWII, she would go on to put on war paint and go looking for some payback after her homeland was invaded and occupied a few months later.

She would help stop a large German freighter some 85 years ago this week– one of many Axis ships “The Flying Dutchman” would bag.

The need for a gunnery school ship

Our subject was ordered as an artillerie-instructieschip, a vehicle to train the Dutch Navy’s gunners and new gunnery officers in preparation for a series of modern warships, most of which were never constructed before the war began. She was badly needed to replace the very old (laid down in 1897) Holland-class pantser-dekschepen (protected cruiser) Hr.Ms. Gelderland, which had been taken out of front-line service in 1919 and had been working as an artillery training ship ever since.

With a full displacement of just 2,388 tons and a 322-foot length, Van Kinsbergen was rightfully a sloop or frigate. Using two sets of Werkspoor geared steam turbines driven by two Yarrow boilers, she could make 25.5 knots on 17,000shp. Range was 5,790nm at 14.5 knots on 696 tons of oil. Armor was slight, just a half-inch belt, an inch shield on the main guns, a 20mm protected deck over machinery spaces, and 20mm on the conning tower.

Stoom- en motorschepen,Kanonneerboten,Van Kinsbergen 1939-1974,Algemeen plan (Dutch Nationaal Archief )

Her primary armament was four single 12 cm/45 (4.7″) Wilton-Fijenoord Nr. 6 guns in half-shielded (open back) mounts. A dual-purpose gun derived from earlier Bofors SP designs with a 55-degree elevation, they had a rate of fire of 10 rounds per minute and a range of 17,500 yards.

The Dutch aimed to use the same gun on new minelayers (Hr.Ms.Willem van der Zaan (ML-2), the four Tjerk Hiddes/Gerard Callenburgh-class destroyers, seven 1,400-ton 1938 pattern K-class gunboats, and as the secondary battery of a trio of planned 30,000-ton Design 1047 battlecruisers (which were very similar to the German Scharnhorst).

Van Kinsbergen was also given a large and very advanced (for its time) Hazemeyer Signaalapparatenfabriek HSLG-4 fire control device that could be used to direct both her main and secondary armament. Speaking to the latter, she carried two twin 40/56 Bofors Nr.3 guns on advanced triaxial stabilized mounts, one of the first mountings of what would go on to be one of the main Allied AAA mounts of WWII.

The Hazemeyer device was used on both the 4.7-inch guns and 40mm Bofors of the Navy’s late model cruisers, such as De Reuter, and 48 land-based 75mm/43 Vickers Model 1931 AAA guns in service with the K.Lu A.

Dutch AAA HSLG-4 Hazemeyer Signaalapparatenfabriek fire control with 75mm Vickers 1939 AKL071201

Dutch Luchtdoelartilleristen bedienen een Vickers 7,5 cm t.l. vuurmond AKL075817

Most of the Hazemeyer-equipped 7,5 cm Vickers operated by the K.Lu.A were in storage at Artillerie Inrichtingen Hembrug, recently arrived from Britain and waiting to be assembled when the Germans invaded Holland in May 1940.

2158_014040

Een geschutkonstabel-kanonnier bedient een dubbelloops 40mm Bofors mitrailleur (Hazemeyer opstelling) aan boord van Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen NIMH 2158_039637

Van Kinsbergen gun’s crew at action stations on the twin Bofors gun by British LT Sidney James Beadell, RNVR, IWM (A 4686)

She was also fitted in 1939 with four .50 caliber machineguns, and two depth charge racks. Most sources also list her with a pair of 3″/52 SA Nr.2 mounts, at least one of which would be mounted ashore to defend Curacao later in the war.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves.

Meet Van Kinsbergen

Our subject was named in honor of VADM (Count) Jan Hendrik van Kinsbergen, who famously beat the Turks several times while in Tsarist service (the Russian Imperial Navy named destroyers after him), in addition to his multiple feats in Dutch service.

Laid down by Rotterdamsche Droogdok Maatschappij, at Rotterdam, Netherlands on 11 September 1937, she launched on 5 January 1939– christened by Mrs. A. van Dijk-Wierda, wife of the then Minister of Defense Jannes van Dijk– and commissioned on 21 August 1939– less than a fortnight before the start of WWII in Europe.

The same day Van Kinsbergen entered service, the ancient cruiser Gelderland was laid up, and many of the new ship’s crew came from the vessel she replaced, including her skipper, Kapitein-Luitenant ter Zee (CDR) John Louis Karel Hoeke, RNN, a Java-born regular who had earned his commission in 1915.

A very clean Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen, early in her career, possibly on trials, before her fire control was installed. NIMH 2158_005639

Same as above NIMH 2173-222-086

Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen was still without her fire control (vuurleiding) installed on 17 April 1939. 2158_014022

Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen at sea,17 April 1939. NIMH 2158_014020

War!

With the Germans marching into Poland and the lights going out across Europe once again for the second time in 25 years, Van Kinsbergen’s planned career as a training vessel was put on hold as her North Sea stomping grounds were now a war zone.

Hr.Ms. Kanonneerboot Van Kinsbergen with fire control, likely 1939 2158_014023

Hr.Ms. kanonneerboot Van Kinsbergen in Nederland, KITLV 377322

Instead, it was decided she would be of better use in reinforcing the neutrality of the isolated overseas garrison in the wind-swept Dutch West Indies, a move which also put her within an easy cruising distance of the crown’s Suriname colony. In this, she relived the 1,800-ton sloop Hr.Ms. Johan Maurits van Nassau just in time for the latter to return home to be sunk by the Luftwaffe the next year.

On 2 October, after a visit from Queen Wilhemena herself, Van Kinsbergen left Den Helder, escorting the submarines Hr.Ms. O 15 and O 20, on a slow crossing to Curacao via the Azores and Puerto Rico that ended on Halloween. While O 15 would remain in the West Indies for a year, the ill-fated O 20 would continue through the Panama Canal to serve in the Dutch East Indies, where she was sunk by a trio of Japanese destroyers in December 1941.

When the Germans rudely violated Dutch neutrality on 10 May 1940– even while the country hosted the exiled former German Kaiser– war came to both metropolitan Holland and her overseas colonies.

Marineman op wacht bij Hr. Ms. Van Kinsbergen, 1940 Bestanddeelnr 934-9873

In the Dutch West Indies, Van Kinsbergen and her crew clocked in with local authorities, including a company of Marines and the 1-pounder armed local coastguard vessels HM Aruba and HM Practico, then moved to seize seven German merchant ships that were interned in the islands. These included the SS Este (7915 gt), SS Vancouver (8269 gt), MS Henry Horn (3164 gt), MS Patricia (3979 gt), MS Frisia (561 gt), MS Karibia (428 gt), and ES Alemania (1380 gt).

While the German crews– confined to their ships since the invasion of Denmark in April– tried, only one of these seven, the HAPAG turboship Almania, managed to successfully scuttle. The other six were soon in Allied service under new names for the duration, while 220 German nationals (215 men from the seven ships and five German sailors turned over by Dutch steamers) were locked up in an internment camp on Bonaire until the British could pick them up later in the summer.

Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen “Terror of the Caribbean” with her Dutch flag paint job

Of these seized vessels, Este, renamed Suriname, was torpedoed and sunk by U-558 off Venezuela in September 1942 with the loss of 13 crew. Most of the others, including Vancouver (renamed Curacao), Henry Horn (renamed Bonaire), and Patricia (renamed Arbua), survived the war and were given to Dutch shipping firms post-war as reparations, sailing well into the 1950s.

Soon after the seizure of the German ships, the French dispatched 150 colonial troops from Senegal to help garrison out lying Aruba but then, when France fell the next month and dropped out of the war, Van Kinsbergen stood by the tense scene in early July as the Vichy French armed merchant cruiser Esterel (X21) reembarked the Tirailleurs Sénégalais to return them to Africa.

The 40mm story

On 20 August 1940, Van Kinsbergen would find herself steaming with the heavy cruiser USS Tuscaloosa (CA-37) north of Trinidad, with the latter’s gunnery officers very interested in the Dutch ship’s 40mm Bofors mounts, which they saw in action against towed target kites. The performance reportedly convinced them to help push to adopt the gun as the U.S. Navy standard, with BuOrd formally obtaining Swedish licenses in June 1941.

The first U.S. ship to get 40mm Bofors was the gunnery training ship USS Wyoming (AG-17), which received a quad mount in June 1942; shortly after, the destroyer USS Coghlan (DD-606) became the first combat ship fitted with a twin mount in July.

Over 400 U.S. DDs/DEs would carry the weapon, plus a myriad of cruisers, carriers, battleships, LSTs, you name it. During 1944 alone, U.S. factories produced 6,644 single mountings, and approximately 3,650 twin and 750 quad mountings for the Navy.

The Bofors was credited with more “kills” (742.5) than any other USN AAA platform of the war.

Back to our ship

Van Kinsbergen spent the rest of 1940 operating with British ships in patrols off the coasts of Colombia and Venezuela, looking to intercept German, Italian, and Vichy blockade runners– narrowly missing the Hapag-steamers Helgoland (2947 gt) and Idarwald (5033 gt) as well as the French Charles L.D. (5267 gt).

On 11 December 1940, the German Norddeutscher Lloyd freighter Rhein (6049 gt) was en route from Tampico, Mexico, to Germany with cargo and was followed by several warships in an attempt to apprehend and capture her.

German Norddeutscher Lloyd freighter Rhein, ironically in Rotterdam prewar

However, during the attempted arrest by the Van Kinsbergen, some 40 miles NW of the Dry Tortugas, the ship was set on fire by the crew in an attempt to scuttle her. Later that day, the burned-out hulk was sunk by 22 rounds of 6-inch cannon fire by the British light cruiser HMS Caradoc. Van Kinsbergen dutifully rounded up the shipwrecked German merchant sailors whose war had come to a close.

11 December 1940. The capture of the German freighter Rhein by Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen and HMS Caradoc. The crew of the sunken ship. NIMH 2158_052025

In February 1941, Van Kinsbergen, in conjunction with two Canadian corvettes, seized the Danish tankers Scandia (8571 gt) and Christian Holm (9919 gt) at the entrance of the Gulf of Paria, escorting them to Trinidad. These tankers were in Admiralty service within weeks.

On 26 May 1941, just after leaving a much-needed yard period in Bermuda, Van Kinsbergen captured the Vichy French CFN steamer SS Winnipeg (8379 gt) with 732 passengers aboard, including eight Jewish photographers who were saved from internment and persecution in France. Winnipeg would be put into Canadian service and sunk by submarine U-443 while on a convoy run the following October.

Five days after seizing Winnipeg, Van Kinsbergen came across the Vichy-French CGT steamer Arica (5390 gt) and captured the same, escorting her to Trinidad for further Allied service. Like Winnipeg, Arica was soon under the red duster only to be sunk by U-160 off Trinidad in November 1942.

The far-traveled Dutch sloop was directed to Liverpool in July for refit, with 11 captured enemy ships to her credit.

In August 1941, British LT Sidney James Beadell, RNVR, an official war photographer, visited Van Kinsbergen while still in port, and while he dutifully logged several great images that captured a moment in time, he apparently jotted down that she was a cruiser (!) named Van Kingsbergen (sic).

Official wartime period captions, likely by Beadell:

“The Dutch rating responsible for sounding action stations on board Van Kingsbergen (sic)”  IWM (A 4687

“Three Dutch ratings seen busy while sail making” and “A Dutch rating busy with palm and needle.” Actually, it seems like they are mending a tarpaulin cover. IWM (A 4688/4689)

“A Dutch rating who is one of the loading members of the gun’s crew.” Of note, the fixed HE shell of the 4.7″ Mark 6 weighed 70.5 lbs, so the rating is getting his reps in for the photographer for sure. IWM A 4690/A 4691

“A Dutch naval guard with rifles and bayonets.” Note the Indonesian rating and the bluejacket’s Dutch Model 1895 (Geweer M. 95) 6.5mm Mannlicher carbines, complete with web gear. IWM (A 4692)

“A Dutch officer taking a sight,” an obviously posed shot as the ship is tied up. IWM (A 4694)

“A Dutch signalman.”  IWM (A 4693)

It was while in Britain that Van Kinsbergen changed crews and skippers, with KLtz Cornelis Hellingman, late of the sub tender Hr.Ms. Colombia, changing places with the good KLtz Hoeke. Hellingman had earned both a British DSO and a Dutch Bronzen Kruis for his command of the Ymuiden/Ijmuiden naval sector (the gateway to Amsterdam) on 14/15 May 1940 and his decision to demo the six ships in the harbor and wreck the port facilities there rather than allow them to fall into German hands.

In September 1941, leaving Britain to return to the Caribbean, the now camouflaged Van Kinsbergen carried 60 men from the newly-formed Free Dutch Prinses Irene-Brigade to Paramaribo, Suriname, to beef up the garrison there.

18 April 1942. De kanonneerboot Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen departs from Curaçao. Note her camouflage scheme. NIMH 2158_053743

Her first Allied convoy, from 19 to 27 July 1942, was the Curacao/Trinidad-to-Key West TAW.6C in which the Dutch slugger was the main escort, augmented by the plucky little 136-foot minesweeper USS YMC-56 (which had a couple of deck guns but no ASW gear or depth charges). The duo shepherded six merchants (three American, one each Norwegian, British, and Dutch), including the big tankers MT Beacon (10,388 tons, Standard Oil Co.) and the 9,912-ton Nortraship MT Glaron.

Her next convoy was TAW.9, another Trinidad-to-Key West run, from 27 July-4 August, that numbered 10 merchants (again, mostly tankers) and six escorts, the latter including a pair of small (173-foot) U.S. PCs, fresh from the shipyard.

Convoy TAW.14, 15-25 August 1942, teamed up Van Kinsbergen with two PCs and an SC as well as an old American flush-deck tin can (USS Upshur) to run 14 merchants, mainly tankers, to Key West.

Following that, she sailed for Norfolk for modernization. There until late October, she emerged with a Type 271 radar, a Type 128C ASDIC, six 20mm Oerlikons (two twin, two single), eight K-gun DCTs, and racks for 52 depth charges.

Van Kinsbergen was seen in late 1942 post-refit (likely between 7 and 12 November) in camouflage scheme near two U.S. Cleveland class cruisers and two tankers, at least one of which is a U.S. Navy AO. Naval History and Heritage Command NH 87890.

Same as above NH 87895

Same as above NH 87888

In Convoy TAG.20 (11-15 November 1942: Trinidad – Guantanamo) (27 merchants and 10 escorts), Van Kinsbergen joined the “reverse Lend-Leased” American Flower-class corvette USS Spry (PG-64), the old flush-deck tin can USS Biddle (DD-151), the gunboat USS Erie, and a half-dozen PC/SCs.

It was during TAG.20 that on 12 November, Van Kinsbergen rescued survivors of the Erie after the American sloop was torpedoed by U-163 and beached, ablaze.

In Convoy TAG.22   (21-14 November 1942: Trinidad – Guantanamo) 43 merchants and 10 escorts, Van Kinsbergen sailed alongside another American FlowerUSS Tenacity (PG-71)— the somewhat infamous flush-decker USS Greer (DD–145), and seven small PCs/SCs, one of which was the mighty Free Dutch Queen Wilhelmina (ex-USS PC 468), later to become nicknamed as the “Queen of the Caribbean” due to her Caribbean beat.

In April 1943, she got a third skipper, KLtz Johannes Jacobus Lukas Willinge, RNN, late of the light cruiser Hr.Ms. Sumatra, and in August would get a fourth, Ktz Jan August Gauw, RNN, who had formerly commanded the minelayer Hr.Ms. Nautilus (M 12) until she was sunk in 1941 after being run down by the British freighter Murrayfield off Grimsby.

By this time, she had added a pair of Mousetrap Mk 20 ASWRLs and upgraded her sensors to an SF radar, a TBS system, and QHB sonar, with the work done in New York.

While operating from New York, she joined the outward bound leg of two very large NYC to Liverpool Atlantic convoys, sailing as part of the escort with a couple of divisions of primarily Canadian corvettes, frigates, and minesweepers.

These included:

  • Convoy HX.304 (17-20 August 1944, 87 merchants and 27 escorts)
  • Convoy HX.311 (30 September- 3 October 1944, 60 merchants and 25 escorts)

Van Kinsbergen in camouflage in October 1944, NARA

Ordered to England in January 1945, her war was over.

She changed her pennant to N 3 in May and arrived back “home” in Rotterdam in August, entering the RDM dockyard there for service.

Wait, another war?

Able to float in just 10 feet of seawater, Van Kinsbergen was ideal to support operations in the littoral of the 17,000-island Indonesian archipelago, which at the time was fighting to break free from Dutch colonial rule.

With that, she set out for the Pacific on 24 October 1945. No rest for the weary.

Practicing with 20mm anti-aircraft guns on the gunboat Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen during the crossing to the Dutch East Indies, October-November 1945. Note the colonial gunner. NIMH 2173-222-009

Van Kinsbergen in heavy weather around 1945. 2173-222-091

Crossing the line headed to the Pacific! (Neptunus a/b van de kanonneerboot Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen in 1945.) 2173-222-085

Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen, 1946, sans camouflage. NIMH 2173-222-096

Officers from Van Kinsbergen ashore in Ambon (Molukken) in March 1946. NIMH 2173-222-022

Van Kinsbergen during actions on the south coast of Borneo in April 1946. NIMH 2173-222-100

A landing with support from the gunboat Van Kinsbergen on the south coast of Borneo in April 1946. NIMH 2173-222-026

Damage to propellers and propeller shafts sustained during support of a landing in April 1946 near Bawal Island (South Borneo) by the gunboat Van Kinsbergen, dry-docked in Singapore. NIMH 2173-222-028

A bow shot of the same. NIMH 2173-222-029

And a Cold War

In late 1947, Van Kinsbergen received a further upgrade, swapping out her old 4.7-inch guns for a pair of 2 x 4″/45 SK C/32s, while keeping her Bofors and Oerlikons. Her ASW suite was reduced to two throwers, landing her Mousetraps and stern racks. The sensor fit at the time included the SL-1, SH-1, and Mk 34 radars, as well as her QHB sonar.

Victims of the bomber disaster arrived in Den Helder on July 24, 1948. Bestanddeelnr  902-8692

Aankomst Van Kinsbergen te Rotterdam, Aug 9 1948 Bestanddeelnr 902-7914

Vertrek Van Kinsbergen uit Rotterdam, 15 October 1948 Bestanddeelnr 903-0544

H. Ms. Van Kinsbergen (N 3) Marvo 3, 14 October 1948 Bestanddeelnr 903-0537

Terugkeer Hr. Ms. kanonneerboot Van Kinsbergen in Den Helder, 2 March 1949 Bestanddeelnr 903-2501

Terugkeer Hr. Ms. kanonneerboot Van Kinsbergen in Den Helder, 2 March 1949 Bestanddeelnr 903-2500

Terugkeer Hr. Ms. kanonneerboot Van Kinsbergen in Den Helder, 2 March 1949 Bestanddeelnr 903-2499

Reclassified as a frigate with the pennant number F804 in November 1950, by February 1952, she was deployed once again to the Pacific, remaining in New Guinea until December 1954 and circumnavigating the globe in the process.

Hr. Ms. Van Kinsbergen na 3 jaar uit Nieuw Guinea weer te Den Helder, Feb 4 1955 Bestanddeelnr 906-9672

Hr. Ms. Van Kinsbergen na 3 jaar uit Nieuw Guinea weer te Den Helder, Feb 4 1955 Bestanddeelnr 906-9673

Van Kinsbergen 1954 Janes

By the time she returned to the Netherlands on 5 February 1955, her 16-year career was all but over. She served as an accommodation ship (pennant A 876) in Vlissingen from 1 November 1955 and would continue in that reduced role until 29 May 1959, when she was stricken.

From left to right, the decommissioned artillery training ship/frigate Van Kinsbergen (A 876) and the frigate Ternate (F 812, ex-M 816, ex-HMAS Kalgoorlie, 1946-1956) lay up at the Marine Etablisement Amsterdam in the early 1960s. NIMH 2158_001595

In five years, the Dutch disposed of eight frigates. Flores on 1 May 1955. Soemba in Jan 1956. Jan van Brakel in Aug. 1957. Batjan, Boeroe, and Ceram in 1958. Johan Maurits van Nassau was sold for scrap in January 1960 for 257,650 florins and was broken up at Diemen. Van Speijk was stricken from the active list in 1960.

Van Kinsbergen lingered until 19 February 1974, when she was towed to Fa. Van Heyghen, Ghent, Belgium, for scrapping, her value listed as 515,500 florins.

Epilogue

The “Flying Dutchman’s” myriad of interactions with U.S. Naval forces during WWII, particularly while working under COMCARIBSEAFRON, are cataloged extensively in the National Archives, as are her Bureau of Ships plans and reports from the October-November 1942 refit in Norfolk. Speaking of plans, dozens of pages of her original drawings are digitized online. 

A Den Haag bar, Gastropub Van Kinsbergen, celebrates not only the admiral but also our training ship/gunboat/cruiser, collecting various militaria and relics of her from around the world, including the ship’s crest, salvaged from an antique dealer in Turkey.

As for Van Kinsbergen’s crew, her first skipper, KLtz JLK Hoeke, after a stint in command of the Dutch submarine tender/auxiliary cruiser Colombia (18 Aug 1941-27 Feb. 1943, when she was sunk by U 516 near Simonstown) died in Wallington, England, in March 1944, aged 50, during the “Baby Blitz.” He is buried in Loenen.

Her second wartime skipper, the DSO-wearing KLtz Hellingman, survived the war and retired in December 1945 as a full captain, concluding 30 years of honorable service. The hero of Ijmuiden passed in 1979, aged 85.

Her third and fourth WWII skippers, Willinge and Gauw, would both rise to wear admiral stars post-war and pass in 1989 and 1967, respectively.

The Dutch Navy recycled the name Van Kinsbergen for a Kortenaer-class frigate, F 809, which entered service in 1980, served for 15 years, and is still in the Greek Navy.

Hr.Ms. Van Kinsbergen (F809) Kortenaer-class frigate NIMH 2158_014137

Keeping the name alive, the first purpose-built naval training vessel for the Dutch Navy, MOV Van Kinsbergen (A902), entered service in 1999. Built by Damen (who else?) she is a trim little 136-footer that typically ships 16 students of the Dutch Royal Naval College (Koninklijk Instituut voor de Marine) around 200 days each year.

Dutch Navy naval training vessel MOV Van Kinsbergen (A902)

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

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Warship Wednesday 26 November 2025: A Sad Affray

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 26 November 2025: A Sad Affray

Above we see HM Submarine Affray (P421).

One of a class of 16 British A (Amphion/Acheron) class boats designed for use in the Pacific against the Empire of Japan in the latter stages of WWII, she commissioned 80 years ago this week and, while she did not get to fire a torpedo in anger against the Imperial Japanese Navy, Affray did go on to leave a tragic mark on naval history.

The A-class boats

By 1943, the writing was on the wall at the Admiralty that the naval war would soon shift to the Pacific and would be very different than that in the European theatre. Whereas small subs were ideal for work in the cramped English Channel, North Sea, and Mediterranean, larger hulls, more akin to American “fleet boats,” would be needed for far-ranging Pacific service.

The answer was the A-class boats, Britain’s only full-sized subs designed during WWII, which offered faster surface speeds, improved habitability under tropical conditions (they were the first RN boats to have air conditioning), and a double-hull structure. They used all-welded pressure hulls and welded fuel tanks inside, with ballast tanks adapted for extra diesel storage. With their 280-foot length, they were only a little shorter than the typical 311-footers seen in U.S. service while still being much larger than the  Royal Navy’s preceding 204-foot “Long hull” V-class submarines of the 1941–42 Programme. Even the RN’s vaunted T-class only ran 276 feet oal.

By comparison, the A boats could make 18.5 knots on the surface (with a 10,500nm range at 11) as compared to the 15.5 knots (8,000nm @ 10) of the T-class, and downright pokey 11.25 knots (3,000nm @ 9) of the V-class. The operating diving depth of the A-class was 350 feet (max 600), versus 300 on the riveted V and T classes.

The As were also heavily armed with 10 21-inch tubes: six at the bow (two external) and four (two external) at the stern. Besides the 10 loaded tubes, they could cram another 10 Mark VIII fish inside the pressure hull for reloads, although typically just six were carried. Instead of torpedoes, 18 1,700-pound Mark II/Type G ground mines could be carried and deployed. Deck guns included a QF 4″/40 Mk XXII in the sail, a 20mm Oerlikon, and up to three .303 Vickers guns. Sensors included a Type 267W air warning radar, which could function at periscope depth, as well as Types 138 and 152 sonars.

The 1943 Programme called for the construction of 46 Type A boats built across six yards: Vickers-Armstrong, Barrow-in-Furness; Cammell Laird, Birkenhead; Scotts Shipbuilding and Engineering Company, Greenock; Chatham Dockyard, Plymouth Dockyard, and Vickers-Armstrongs, Walker-on-Tyne.

Only two of the 46, the Barrow-built HMS Amphion (P439) and HMS Astute (P447), were commissioned before the end of hostilities, in March and June 1945, respectively. Even at that, they never arrived in the Far East in time to conduct a war patrol, spending their wartime career in workup and tests.

The 14 sister boats– Acheron, Aeneas, Alaric, Alcide, Alderney, Alliance, Ambush, Anchorite, Andrew, Artemis, Artful, Auriga, Aurochs, and our Affray— were completed between late 1945 and April 1948.

HMS Alliance on sea trials, August 1946, off Barrow. Ref: CRTY 2017/139/776/1.

British Amphion-class submarine HMS Alcide (P415). Note her sail-mounted 4″/40 gun and original WWII profile. The photo was taken in 1947 at Plymouth Sound

Two more, the would-be Ace (P414) and Achates (P433), were not fitted out but, launched and afloat, were in turn converted into target boats.

The order for the remaining 28 units (Adept, Andromache, Answer, Antagonist, Antaeus, ANZAC, Aphrodite, Admirable, Approach, Arcadian, Ardent, Argosy, Atlantis, Agile, Asperity, Austere, Aggressor, Agate, Abelard, Acasta, Alcestis, Aladdin, Aztec, Adversary, Asgard, Awake, Astarte, and Assurance) was cancelled.

A-class submarines, 1946 Janes

Meet Affray

Our subject was laid down at the Cammell Laird yard in Birkenhead on 16 January 1944, launched on 12 April of that year.

The future HM Submarine Affray after launching at the Cammel Laird ship yard, Birkenhead, 1944 LT CH Parnall, photographer. IWM A28195

Affray commissioned on 25 November 1945, and her first skipper was LCDR Ernest John Donaldson Turner DSO, DSC, RN, a submarine service steely regular who had commanded HMS Sibyl (P 217) for 17 war patrols in 1943-44 and had earned his DSO earlier in the war as XO of HMS L 23 (N 23).

Only two of Affray’s Cammell-built sisters, Aeneas and Alaric, would be completed.

Cold War service

Designed for the Pacific, Affray soon left to join the 4th Submarine Flotilla in Hong Kong, centered around the tender HMS Adamant (A164), and with her four sisters, HMS Amphion, Astute, Auriga, and Aurochs, replacing eight T-class boats that Adamant had been supporting since 1945.

By 1949, Affray and, along with the rest of her class, had received a 60-foot “Snort” device, based on captured late-war German snorkel designs, during regular overhauls back home.

HM Submarine Affray (P421), after her 1949 refit. Note the 4″/40 on her fairwater had been deleted, and she has a forward torpedo tube open. 

The device overall proved successful. On 9 October 1947, Alliance dived off the Canary Islands to commence a 30-day “snort cruise,” covering 3,193 miles to Freetown, all while submerged. Andrew later made a 2,500nm run from Bermuda to the English Channel in 15 days.

Previously, British submarines could only spend a maximum of 48 hours submerged, and that was largely stationary.

.A class submarine HMS Aeneas off Gosport, circa late 1940s/early 1950s, sans 4″/40 and with her “Snort” fitted

However, Affray’s Snort reportedly leaked “like a sieve” during dives in the Med, and by January 195,1 the hard-used boat had been placed in reserve at Portsmouth, with the globe-trotter having logged more than 51,000nm in just her first five years of service.

Final Dive

Reactivated and under the command of experienced sub vet LT John Blackburn, DSC, in April 1951, Affray was detailed to participate in a detached simulated war exercise named “Training Spring.”

It would be a multi-day operation including “a war patrol, dummy attacks on shipping, combining with mock hostile aircraft attacks, Marine Commandos to be landed by cockle-type canoes for a simulated sabotage and enemy observation exercise, then re-embark.”

Instead of her regular crew, she had to land all but 24 experienced members while the boat was crowded with 24 ratings drawn from a new submarine class, a team of four Royal Marine Commando canoeists, and 22 members of a junior officer Executive and Engineering training class.

In all, 75 souls crammed into a boat built for 60~ with only about a third of them being “old salts.”

Affray had dived 30 miles South of the Isle of Wight, some 60 odd miles southwest of St Catherine’s Light, at 2115 on 16 April, and was due to transit to a position 20 miles southeast of Start Point. However, she failed to report her position on 17 April, and a SUBMISS/SUBSMASH alert stated search operations that eventually numbered over 50 ships, including 24 NATO warships.

These efforts continued fruitlessly until 19 April, with only an oil slick observed over Hurd’s Deep, by which point she was considered lost.

During the search, 161 sustained sonar contacts and as many as 70 uncharted wrecks, including another submarine, the 1944-lost U-269, were discovered, each requiring fruitlessly sending down a diver to verify if it was the lost Affray.

On 14 June, after two months, the frigate HMS Loch Fyne (K429) made the first contact with the wreck of Affray on her ASDIC equipment and sent the signal to the Admiralty in Whitehall.

The submarine rescue ship HMS Reclaim arrived on scene soon after and dropped a diver with a Siebe Gorman oxy-helium helmet to a depth of over 200 feet, who reported what could be a submarine below.

To confirm, Reclaim sent down her new underwater television apparatus on 16 June.

The camera container and lights in their frame, on board HMS Reclaim. IWM A 31970

When it neared the bottom at 260 feet, the first grainy image of the wreck, including the word “Affray” on a conning tower, appeared topside on Reclaim’s TV screen.

A picture of the name Affray on the side of the conning tower of the submarine, as documented by Reclaim’s camera rig. IWM (A 32110) Original Source: http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/205163026

There is no shortage of educated theories as to what happened to the submarine, the last British boat lost at sea. What is known is that her Snort mast was broken, and all hatches and hull seemed otherwise intact.

Hopefully, it was over quickly.

As noted by Submarinefamily.uk:

Her loss is still a matter of controversy, and the exact reason for her loss may never be known, as she is now protected as a grave for those who died in her. The most likely cause is that her snort mast broke off while she was at periscope depth and that the induction hull valve had failed to operate satisfactorily, resulting in water entering the submarine through a 10-inch hole. With her buoyancy destroyed, she would have sunk very quickly.

Epilogue

The 75 men lost on Affray have their names recorded in the Submariners’ Book of Remembrance in the chapel at HMS Dolphin, Gosport. Their names are also listed at the National Memorial Arboretum in Staffordshire, the Submarine Museum Memorial wall at Gosport, and Braye Harbour, Alderney, among others.

A dedicated website to H.M. Submarine Affray endures.

The four lost SBS men are also recorded in the Royal Marines Roll of Honour.

Of note, one of the divers from Reclaim working on Affray was LCDR Lionel “Buster” Crabb, OBE, GM, who later became famous when, in 1956, he disappeared in Portsmouth harbor during the visit of a Soviet cruiser with Khrushchev aboard.

The rest of Affray’s class had a happier and much longer service.

At least 10 of her sisters served at one time or another between 1954 and 1967 with the Royal Navy’s 6th Submarine Squadron out of HMC Dockyard, Halifax (stone frigate HMS Ambrose) as “clockwork mice” for ASW training with Canadian and NATO surface ships– with active service deployed North-East of the Grand Banks to warn if Soviet submarines were active during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Although not in RCN service, they typically had several “Canucks” as part of their crews, which helped the RCN’s transition to the trio of new Canadian Oberon-class submarines, which began entering service in 1965. The Submarine Room at the Naval Museum of Halifax contains many of their relics, including at least one ship’s bell from HMS Aurochs.

Fourteen received a further modernization akin to the American GUPPY conversions, which removed the old sail and replaced it with a more modern fairwater, as well as a streamlined hull profile. Although their four external tubes and the deck guns were removed, they could still carry 18 more modern Mark 8 Mod 4 torpedoes or 26 1,930-pound Mark V/type Q magnetic/acoustic mines. They also received new sonars (Types 186 long-range passive, 187 medium-range search/attack, and 197 intercept). The big Type 187 attack sonar required a large bulbous dome on the bow, giving the updated Amphions a similar profile to the 1960s Oberon class boats.

When they finished their refit, the GUPPY-fied Amphions received updated S-series hull numbers in place of their old P-series numbers.

HMS Alliance (S67), almost unrecognizable after her modernization.

HMS Artful, Amphion-class submarine, S96

Ironically, despite the original deck guns being removed during modernization in the late 1950s, a very non-streamlined replacement 4″/33 Mark XXIII S gun was installed starting in 1960 on several A boats to counter blockade-running junks during the Indonesian Confrontation with the Singapore-based 7th Submarine Squadron.

Modernized Amphion-class submarine HMS Andrew (S63) leaving Singapore at the end of her service with 7th Submarine Squadron (7SM), in 1968. The crew lining the deck wearing broad terandak hats while a sign hanging from the side reads “Mama Sam’s”. Within two hours of departure, the crew rescued two Malaysian fishermen whose boat had sunk and returned them to Singapore. Andrew was one of the many submarines to leave Singapore in the late 1960s when the decision was made to repatriate all British military “East of Suez”. 7SM closed in 1971. IWM HU 129718

HMS Alliance, in camouflage pattern off Malaysia, 1965. IWM HU 129708

Aerial starboard-bow view of modernized Amphion-class submarine HMS Alliance (S67) seen in 1965 during her service with 7th Submarine Squadron, note her deck gun. She is wearing a camouflage paint scheme appropriate for operations in the shallow waters around Malaysia during the Indonesian Confrontation. IWM HU 129708

Jane’s page on the class, 1960.

The class made appearances in several films, with Andrew filling in for a U.S. nuclear submarine in the 1959 post-apocalyptic film On the Beach.

Sistership Artemis appeared in an RN training film entitled Voyage North, from which stock submarine footage was lifted and reused in movies and TV shows for decades.

Aeneas, however, one-upped her sisters by appearing in the classic Bond film You Only Live Twice in 1967. She later went on to become an SSG, carrying an experimental mast-mounted SAM launcher. 

The last of the class in service, HMS Andrew, paid off in May 1977 and was also the final British sub to carry a deck gun.

HMS Alliance, although decommissioned in 1973, would continue to serve as a static training boat until 1979, and survives today.

Alliance has been preserved since 1981 as a museum boat at the Royal Navy Submarine Museum in Gosport, Portsmouth.

HMS Alliance, Gosport

Among her relics is a replica wreath of daffodils, carnations, tulips, and lilies of the valley modeled after the one Alliance’s crew dropped over the resting place of Affray.

The Submarine HMS Alliance lays a wreath over the spot where submarine HMS Affray failed to surface during a training dive in 1951 (Manchester Mirror)

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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

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

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO, has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

PRINT still has its place. If you LOVE warships, you should belong.

I’m a member, so should you be!

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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Warship Wednesday 12 November 2025: Bank on it

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 12 November 2025:

Fotoafdrukken Koninklijke Marine,via NIMH Objectnummer 2158_000197

Above we see the Dutch Admiralen-class torpedobootjager (destroyer) Hr. Ms. Banckert (BK) as she appeared sometime between 1931 and 1942. She was commissioned 90 years ago this week and is sadly almost forgotten, although she often came through in the clutch when the chips were down.

The Yarrow Admiralen 8-pack

In November 1923, the British Admiralty issued a request to the major shipyards specializing in escorts for designs of the first destroyers to be built for the Royal Navy since the end of the Great War. The tender was awarded jointly the next year for two prototype ships, one from Thornycroft to become the future HMS Amazon, and the second from competitor Yarrow for what would become the future HMS Ambuscade (D38). Ambuscade, a two-funneled greyhound of some 322 feet overall length, had a narrow 31-foot beam and, with a 1,600-ton displacement, could float in just nine feet of water.

Armed with four BL 4.7″/45 Mk I guns in single mounts with an armored shield, Ambuscade also carried six 21-inch torpedo tubes in two triple launcher turnstiles. Powered by a pair of geared turbines on triple Yarrow  (who else?) 4-drum boilers, she had 35,000shp on tap and could make 37 knots.

HMS Ambuscade Yarrow ad, 1929 Janes

Profile plan of an Acasta (A class) destroyer, 1927, based on Ambuscade. NPA4551

While Ambuscade would serve through WWII and lead to the follow-on 20-ship A- and B-class destroyers for the Royal Navy, which were basically the same ship but a little slower and with a heavier armament, the design proved a hit for Yarrow when it came to export.

The Portuguese ordered five Douro-class destroyers to the Ambuscade design (two of which were resold to Colombia while still on the builder’s ways), and the Dutch would order another eight, each class with minor differences.

The eight Dutch ships would replace, on a one-for-one basis, the older Roofdier-class torpedobootjager, which were built on the eve of the Great War. Small, at just 500 tons/231-feet oal, the Roofdiers were cramped and poorly armed with just two 18-inch torpedo tubes and four low-angle 3″/52 guns. The new destroyers would be bound for the Dutch East Indies to bolster the defense of that far-off yet resource-rich colony.

Dubbed the Admiralen-class (Admiralenklasse) because they were all named after famous Dutch admirals, these Ambuscade clones had a similar layout to their British older sister but went a little lighter (1,337 tons) on the same-sized hull. A little slower due to a 31,000shp engineering plant, they could “only” make 34 knots, and they had about the same range (3,300nm @15 knots), but added a couple of tricks.

1929 Janes Dutch destroyers entry for the Yarrow type

Rather than the comparatively slower British BL 4.7s, the Dutch went with a four-pack of Swedish Bofors-made 4.7″/50 guns with only the most forward and most aft guns protected by shields.

Bofors 12 cm/50 (4.7″/50) Mark 4 guns on Dutch destroyer Kortenaer. Note the “A” mount has a shield, while the “B” mount does not. NIMH No. 2158_005426.

Firing Bofors 4.7-inch gun from Hr.Ms. Van Galen, Soerabaja, April 1936 2173-223-048

4.7-inch gun Torpedobootjager Hr.Ms. Kortenaer batterij-exercitie 2158_001049

The unshielded Gun 2/Mount B of the destroyer Hr.Ms. Banckert, note the breechblock and gun clocks, 1933. 2173-223-002

For AAA (luchtdoelgeschut) use, the Admiralen carried one or two 3-inch guns (Bofors Mark 6 in early ships, a single HIH Siderius Mark 8 in latter ships) on a bandstand between the stacks and four .50 caliber Browning water-cooled mounts on deck. The second flight of four ships substituted four Vickers QF 2-pounder (40mm) guns instead of the second 3-incher.

A Bofors Mark 6 3″/55 AA Luchtafweer gun on Admiralen class torpedobootjager Hr.Ms. Kortenaer. Note what might be a fuze setter machine in the foreground. 2158_001019

Automatic 40mm Vickers Maxim QF 2-pounders on pedestal mounts in a Luchtdoelbatterij on the cruiser Java. Water-cooled and fed via 25-round cloth belts, the guns had been designed in 1915 as balloon-busters and could fire 50-75 rounds per minute. These are not to be confused with 40mm Bofors. Note the sunglasses of the operator closest to the camera.

Six torpedo tubes for Whitehead Type II/53 torpedoes, and mine handling gear (mechanical mine sweeping paravanes in the first four, mine laying tracks for 24 Vickers mines in the last four– the latter of which blocked the firing arc of the stern most 4.7-inch mount) rounded out the armament. Weight and space were reserved for depth charge racks and four throwers (with 12 “ash cans”,) although listening gear was only provided to two of the ships (Hr.Ms. Van Ghent and Witte de With) in 1941.

Admiralen-class torpedobootjager Hr.Ms. Van Nes (VN)Torpedolanceeroefeningen. The ships carried no torpedo reloads. 2158_005653

With a crew of about ~130 men, the Admiralens could land a light platoon size force of armed sailors and Marines (Korps Mariniers) for expeditionary landing division (landingsdivisie) service ashore, complete with cartridge belts, infantry uniforms with puttees, and 6.5x53mm Geweer M. 95 Dutch Mannlichers, as with these men of the class member Van Galen seen in Shanghai in 1932.

Despite their small size, the class was designed to carry and use a single embarked Fokker C.VII-W floatplane, although without a catapult. This means the Fokker had to be winched over the side for both takeoff and recovery, a time-consuming process.

The Marineluchtvaartdienst (Netherlands Naval Aviation Service) bought 30 pontoon-borne Fokker C.VII-W floatplanes in the late 1920s for use both ashore and from their warships in a reconnaissance/light strike role. Using a welded steel tube frame, the rest of the 32-foot aircraft was fleshed out in plywood and fabric. Powered by a 225hp Armstrong Siddeley Lynx 7-cylinder air-cooled radial piston engine, these were good for about 85 knots to a range of about 600nm and could carry two light bombs and an observer-mounted light machine gun. A baker’s dozen were sent to Morokrembangan in Java, operating alongside huge Dornier Do J Wal and later Dornier Do 24 flying boats, while the rest remained in Europe. 2158_061489

Fokker Hr.Ms. Witte de With at anchor at Kupang, September 1934 2173-223-014

The seaplane of the Admiralen-class destroyer Hr.Ms. Witte de With at anchor at Kupang, Timor, September 1934. 2173-223-014

Hr.Ms. Van Galen (1929-1940), een Fokker C-VII W lichte zeeverkenner July 1936 2173-223-057

Plane-carrying, torpedo-slinging, fast destroyers that doubled as minesweepers/layers. Not a bad concept.

Although to a British design and with a British powerplant and much equipment, all eight Admiralen were constructed in Holland, with the first flight of four (De Ruyter/Van Ghent, Evertsen, Kortenaer, and Piet Hein) all laid down in August 1925 from Koninklijke Maatschappij De Schelde (now Damen) and Burgerhout. The second flight of four (Van Galen, Witte de With, Banckert, and Van Nes) was ordered in 1927-28 from the same two yards as well as Wilton-Fijenoord.

All eight were delivered and in service by 1931.

Meet Banckert 

Our subject carries the name of legendary 17th-century Dutch Luitenant-Admiraal Adriaan van Trappen Banckert, who played key roles during the victories of The Four Days’ Battle (Schoonebeld) in 1666, which pitted 84 Dutch ships vs 79 English, and the Two Days’ Battle (Kijkduin) in 1673, which saw 97 Dutch ships best a 130-strong Anglo-French force.

Admiral Banckert, born in 1615, was himself the son of an admiral, while his two brothers rose to the rank of captain (one posthumously), so it’s safe to say he came from a seagoing family. He shipped out as a lad with his pop, fighting Dunkirk pirates at sea before he was old enough to shave, became a ship’s master at the ripe old age of 24, and a commander two years later. He passed at age 68 while still holding a seat on the admiralty council, surpassing over a century of service.

She was laid down on 15 August 1928 at Burgerhout’s Machinefabriek en Scheepswerf NV near Rotterdam.

Launched 14 November 1929, she commissioned 11 November 1930.

Banckert was placed into service at Burgerhout’s, 11 November 1930. 2158_005115

As Banckert and Van Nes, also constructed side-by-side at Burgerhout, were the last flight, they had upgraded guns, including Mark 5 4.7″/50s rather than the Mark 4s in their sisters, in addition to the other above-mentioned changes.

Torpedobootjager Hr.Ms. Banckert 2158_005101

torpedobootjager Hr.Ms. Banckert 2000-372-015

Torpedobootjager Hr.Ms. Banckert 2158_000194

Torpedobootjager Hr.Ms. Banckert 2158_005104

Headed to the Far East by way of the Caribbean

All eight Admiralens spent the bulk of their career in the Far East, returning to Europe for refits and making the occasional call on Dutch colonies in the West Indies (e.g, Curacao) and South America (Guiana/Suriname) along the way back and forth to serve as a station ship when needed before the purpose-designed gunboat Hr.Ms. Johan Maurits van Nassau became the permanent station ship in the Dutch West Indies in 1933.

With that being said, Banckert left Nieuwediep on 12 January 1931, bound for Curacao, with stops at Lisbon, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, and Port of Spain before arriving at Willemstad on 7 February.

Departure of the destroyer Hr. Ms. Banckert from Den Helder, with many spectators on shore, headed to the Dutch West Indies, 12 January 1931. Regional Archief Alkmaar RAA003012918

She remained the station ship in the Dutch West Indies until November, when she sailed back to Nieuwediep. She remained in Dutch waters for the next 13 months, except for a summer training cruise to Scotland and a fortnight port call at Invergordon in July 1933.

On 14 December 1933, Banckert and her sister Van Nes waved goodbye to the crowds at Nieuwediep to begin their extended deployment to the Dutch East Indies, a trip of 9,900 miles.

Along the way, they made port calls at Tunis, Alexandria, Port Said, Perim (Yemen), and Colombo before arriving at Sabang on Sumatra on 25 January 1934, wrapping up the cruise in 42 days.

Banckert seen from the destroyer Van Nes in December 1933 in the Mediterranean Sea during the voyage to the Dutch East Indies. 2173-227-048

Participants at a lunch aboard the destroyer Hr.Ms. Banckert in Tunis at the end of 1933. 2173-227-024

Hr.Ms. Banckert in Alexandria, Egypt, where she and Van Nes spent the New Year, 30 December 1930 to 3 January 1934. 2173-227-027

The destroyers Hr.Ms. Van Nes and Hr.Ms. Banckert pass through the Suez Canal on 3 January 1934. 2173-227-052

Once in Indonesia, Banckert and most of her sisters formed a squadron around the light cruisers Hr.Ms Java and her twin Sumatra (the latter relieved after 1937 by the shiny new 7,900-ton Hr.Ms De Ruyter) then spent the next six years in a series of training maneuvers, naval parades, state visits, and sovereignty patrols.

January 1935, the Dutch East Indies squadron, including the cruiser Hr.Ms. Java and destroyer Hr.Ms. Banckert as seen from Hr.Ms. Van Nes. 2173-223-021

31 August 1935. The Dutch cruiser Java and destroyers Van Nes and Banckert moored on mooring buoys at Tandjoeng Priok. 2173-223-024

On 20 October 1936, Banckert became a lifeguard, rushing to the aid of the sinking Dutch KPM coastal liner Van der Wijck, which had capsized in calm weather while underway in the Java Sea. The destroyer joined with seven MLD Dornier Wal flying boats and three local vessels in helping to save 210 of the 268 people aboard.

KPM liner SS Van der Wijck (BRT: 2596), built in 1921. The vessel capsized a few hours after departure from Soerabaja for Semarang with the loss of 58 lives. Investigations later pointed to improper ballast water transfers by inexperienced crew, exacerbated by open lower deck portholes, as the cause of the accident.

The incident is infamous in the region, with Van der Wijck having something of a “Titanic of Indonesia” air about her, likely due to an enduringly popular Indonesian-language novel, “Tenggelamnya Kapal Van Der Wijck” (The Sinking of van der Wijck), written by Hamka in 1939, which was later turned into a movie, which was the highest-grossing Indonesian film of 2013.

War!

When the Germans marched into Poland in September 1939, the Netherlands remained a cautious, Allied-leaning neutral until invaded nine months later as the Wehrmacht swept through the Lowlands on the way to France. It was there that the Admiralen-class Hr.Ms. Van Galen, the only destroyer in Dutch European waters at the time, there for a refit, suffered a series of 30 air attacks while underway in the Nieuwe Waterweg and sank near Merwehaven on 10 May 1940.

On the other side of the globe in the Dutch East Indies, the remaining seven Admiralen-class sisters went on the warpath with the destroyers, in conjunction with local colonial troops, seizing 18 of 19 German merchant ships in Dutch territorial waters, long a haven in the Pacific from British and French patrols.

This came about due to a bit of cloak and dagger in which the PTT (Post, Telegraaf, en Telefoondienst) office in Soerabaja (Surabaya) withheld a coded German telegram, dated 9 May, directed to the respective captains of the interned German ships, ordering them to take flight on the eve of the invasion of the Netherlands. Passing it on to local intelligence instead, Dutch forces were able to swiftly capture 18 steamers with only the wily captain of the HAPAG freighter SS Sophie Rickmers (7,033 GRT) managing to scuttle his ship in harbor.

SS Sophie Rickmers.

Although declared a total loss at the time, Rickmers was raised, repaired, and put into Dutch service with KPM as SS Toendjoek. Rickmers/Toendjoek was later scuttled off the port of Tandjung Priok as a blockship during the Dutch evacuation of Java in March 1942 and raised a second time, then put under a meatball flag sailing for the Japanese as the Iino lines freighter Tango Maru. Tragically, the former German/Dutch freighter, packed with a mix of 3,500 local Javanese Romusha laborers and Allied (mostly Dutch Colonial) POWs, was torpedoed and sunk by USS Rasher (SS-269) 25 miles off Java on 25 February 1944, taking most of them to the bottom with her for her third and final time.

At the end of the day on 10 May 1940, the Dutch in the East Indies bagged 18 German merchant ships (19 once Rickmer was raised), and threw their crews and 2,400 German nationals over the age of 16 taken into custody across the islands into an internment camp where, besides their regular rations, they were issued “ten cigarettes a day and pocket money for refreshments.” Despite this easy treatment by the Dutch in Java, in July 1940, 231 members of the KNIL– the Dutch East Indies colonial army– who were on leave in the German-occupied Netherlands, were arrested by the Gestapo and thrown into concentration camps for the duration.

After that, the mobilized Dutch naval forces in the East Indies kept an eye peeled for German surface raiders and U-boats while on loose convoy duty and prepped to fight…

A whole new war

On 30 September 1940, Luitenant ter zee der 1e klasse (LTZ I) Lambert Johan Goslings, RNN, assumed command of Banckert, just days after Japanese troops entered French Indochina. The Sumatra-born Goslings was a career officer with 13 years of service behind him and had previously served on the Admiralen class destroyers Evertsen and Kortenaer, so he knew his trade.

Soon, with tensions building with the German-aligned Empire of Japan and the Western Allies, Banckert and the rest of the Dutch fleet in the Pacific began quietly exercising with the British forces in nearly Malaya and Australians to the south.

With a state of war existing between the Netherlands and Japan as of the morning of 8 December 1941, and with news of inbound Japanese troopship convoys sighted near Indochina, the Dutch fleet spent the next several weeks aggressively patrolling and…waiting.

In the meantime, Banckert and her sisters pitched in escorting British convoys from Africa and India, the final leg to Singapore, including Convoy BM 9A (1-2 January), Convoy BM 9B (4-6 January), Convoy DM 1 (11-13 January), and Convoy BM 10 (22-26 January).

By 1 February, Dutch RADM Karel Doorman’s joint ABDA Striking Force consisted of four cruisers, the De Ruyter (his flag), USS Houston, USS Marblehead, and Hr.Ms.Tromp, along with seven tin cans: U.S. Destroyer Division 58 led by CDR Binford on USS Stewart, with USS Edwards, USS Barker, and USS Bulmer; and a Dutch destroyer division commanded by LCDR Krips on Van Ghent, with the Piet Hein and Banckert.

While going after reported Japanese convoys in the Makassar Strait, Doorman’s cruiser-destroyer force was mauled by enemy land-based twin-engine bombers on 4 February, sending it back to port to lick its wounds. Although Banckert was so far unscathed, that would not continue.

On Valentine’s Day, Doorman’s Striking Force, augmented by two Australian cruisers, the Dutch cruiser Java, and three extra Dutch/U.S. destroyers, headed out to stop the Japanese Palembang invasion convoy. It was on this run that Van Ghent grounded on the Bamidjo reef between Banka and Billiton island while zipping through the Stolze Strait in the dark predawn of 15 February. Ordered to put down the wounded greyhound, Banckert closed with her stranded sister and took off her crew and sensitive materials, then pumped five broadsides into her bow, then retired to Surabaya with the extra crew.

Banckert was at Surabaya on 24 February when the port was attacked by Japanese bombers, with near misses cracking the destroyer’s hull in several places– knocking her out on the eve of the Battle of the Java Sea and the follow-on clash at  Sunda Strait in which Doorman was killed and most of his ships were lost.

Put in the port’s 3,500-ton dry dock for emergency repairs, Banckert was again the subject of a very near miss on 28 February that damaged her stern. Meanwhile, the Japanese had landed on Java and were closing in on Surabaya.

With the call made to fire the port and evacuate what could be moved, the dock containing the evacuated Banckert was torpedoed by Hr.Ms. K XVII before the submarine submerged and made for Freemantle with the port’s commanding admiral aboard. Behind were left her damaged sister, Witte de With, similarly abandoned and scuttled, along with a mix of over 120 vessels either too old, small, or broken to make it to Australia.

Marine docks in Soerabaja. The photo was taken from the warehouse towards the East. Start of the destruction at 11:30 am. The 3,000-ton dry dock with the destroyer Hr.Ms. Banckert is seen sinking. On the right is the 227-ton tug/coastal minelayer Hr.Ms. Soemenep.

Surabaya, Java, Netherlands East Indies. 1942-02. Wrecked ships, including Banckert beside a wharf which is strewn with debris after bombardment during a Japanese air raid. Note the clouds of smoke behind the port facilities. (Navy Historical Collection) (Formerly Y043) AWM 306786

The crews of Banckert and Witte de With, their job as wreckers done, marched off to join Dutch Lt. Gen. Hein Ter Poorten’s land forces and continued to fight the Japanese until 8 March, when resistance collapsed. The Dutch radio station at Ciumbuluit signed off with “Wij sluiten nu. Vaarwel tot betere tijden. Leve de Koningin!” (We are closing now. Farewell till better times. Long live the Queen!)

With the port still ablaze, no less than 66,219 Dutch troops and sailors laid down their arms and marched off to begin more than four years of hard captivity.

All six of Banckert’s sisters in the Pacific– her entire class– were similarly lost in the first four months of the war against Japan.

Evertsen: Caught by the Japanese destroyers Murakumo and Shirakumo during her last sortie on the night of 27/28 February 1942 while trying to escape to falling Java for Colombo via the Sunda Strait, she was beached ablaze on the Seboekoe Besar reef. Nine men were killed, and others were captured and imprisoned for the duration of the war.

Wreck of Hr.Ms. Evertsen on the coastal reef of Seboekoe Besar Island, Sunda Strait, Dutch East Indies. The photo was taken in December 1945. 2158_005249

Piet Hein: Sunk in the February 19/20 night action while trying to intercept the Japanese invasion forces off Bali, she went down with the loss of 64 crew.

Van Ghent: As discussed above, she was accidentally reefed while on a sortie against the Japanese and abandoned.

Kortenaer: Took a torpedo from the Japanese heavy cruiser Haguro during the Battle of the Java Sea, which broke her back and sent her to the bottom with a third of her crew.

The sinking of the destroyer Hr.Ms. Kortenaer during the Battle of the Java Sea, 27 February 1942. Watercolor photo by JPM Wanders, one of the illustrations for the book “The Netherlands’ Naval Forces at War” by Lieutenant Commander A. Kroese, HMARVO, former commander of HNLMS Kortenaer. 2158_051000

Witte de With: Damaged at Java Sea and by a Japanese bomb to the fo’c’scle on 1 March, she was scuttled the next day.

Van Nes: Attacked and sunk by Japanese aircraft from the Japanese carrier Ryujo on 17 February 1942, with the loss of 68 crew.

Destroyer Hr.Ms.Van Nes (VN). Painting by Jos Wanders of the sinking south of Banka, during an escort voyage from Billiton to Java, 17 February 1942. 2158_005655

Under the Rising Sun

The water-logged Banckert was raised by the escort-poor Japanese in 1944, partially repaired, and put in service as the patrol craft PB-106.

She was one of at least four former Dutch vessels, but the only member of her class placed in IJN service as patrol boats.

On 23 October 1945, VADM Shibata Yaichiro, CINC, Second Southern Expeditionary Fleet, surrendered Java to Free Dutch Forces, and Banckert/PB-106 was returned to the Dutch, who eventually stripped the hulk and decommissioned the wreck from the Koninklijke Marine on 5 March 1947.

The almost unrecognizable ex-Banckert was sent to the bottom of the Madura Strait in September 1949, the last member of her class to take the plunge.

KITLV_MLD392_031

Ironically, she was sunk by the new (to the Dutch) British S-class destroyers Evertsen and Kortenaer.

KITLV MLD392 020, et. al

Epilogue

As for Banckert’s wartime skipper, LTZ I Goslings, he managed to escape Japanese custody and by September 1943, wearing a recently-awarded Bronzen Kruis, was once again on the bridge of a Dutch escort, commanding the Flower-class corvette Hr. Ms. Friso (K 00) on convoy duty in the Atlantic.

By late 1945, he was XO of the 14,000-ton escort carrier Hr. Ms. Karel Doorman (QH 1) (formerly the HMS Nairana D05) which operated with Hawker Sea Fury fighters against communist insurgents in the Dutch East Indies.

Neptune’s Day line crossing celebration aboard HNLMS Karel Doorman. Captain L.J. Goslings, first officer aboard HNLMS Karel Doorman, is in the middle with sunglasses, and is seen to the right with the crew. (NIMH 0018_101565)

In 1954-55, Kapitein-ter-zee Lambert Johan Goslings was skipper of the Dutch flagship, the Colossus-class light fleet carrier Hr. Ms. Karel Doorman (R81), ex-HMS Venerable, future ARA Veinticinco de Mayo.

The next year, RADM Gosling led the Dutch Navy’s 1,500-man Smaldeel 5 (Squadron 5), with his flag on the cruiser HNLMS De Zeven Provinciën, accompanied by the destroyers Friesland and Zeeland, on a tour of Europe, including a port call at Leningrad (St. Petersburg), laying a wreath at the city’s WWII memorial at Kronstadt. It was reportedly the first time Russian naval officers were welcomed aboard a Dutch warship since 1914.

RADM Goslings retired 1 on November 1956, capping 29 years of service, and passed in 1982, aged 77.

The Dutch remembered Banckert in a British-built Q-class destroyer, D801, previously HMS Quilliam, which was acquired in 1945 and scrapped in 1957. Notably, she served in the Dutch East Indies during the war with Indonesian separatists there.

Destroyer Hr.Ms. Banckert 1947 1957 2158_004000

The latest Banckert, (F810), a Kortenaer-class frigate, served with the Dutch fleet from 1980 through 2003 and continues to sail with the Greek Navy as the frigate Aigaion.

Dutch frigate HR MS BANCKERT (F-810) underway during Fleet Ex 1-90 Feb 1990 DN-ST-90-06944

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday) 30 October 2025: End of the Line

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

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Warship Wednesday (on a Thursday) 30 October 2025: End of the Line

IWM (Q 48273)

Above we see the Italian Conte di Cavour-class dreadnought Giulio Cesare, in a very clean state while at Taranto during the Great War, on 3 June 1917. Note her interesting original five-turret (A-B-Q-X-Y), 13-barrel (3-2-3-2-3) main battery of 12″/46 Model 1909 Elswick pattern guns. She also wears a bow eagle with the Caesarian motto, “Veni. Vis. Vita.”

Following her second world war, she would go on to be the final battleship lost while in active service, under very controversial circumstances, some 70 years ago this week.

The Cavour class

The three-pack of Conte di Cavour–class battleships was designed in 1908 by RADM Engineer Edoardo Masdea, Chief Constructor of the Regia Marina, in the immediate spell after HMS Dreadnought and the French Courbet-class battlewagons. They followed in the wake of Italy’s first dreadnought, Dante Alighieri (19,500t, 551 ft. oal, 22 knots, 12×12″ guns, 10 inch armor plate), but were much heavier, at 24,500 tons.

As built, they carried the previously mentioned 13 12″/46s as well as 18 casemated 4.7″/50s, three torpedo tubes, and assorted tertiary light guns. Their Parsons turbines on 20 Yarrow boilers allowed Cavour to hit 22 knots on trials, but Cesare, even with 21 Babcock boilers installed (later 24), was only able to hit 21.7 knots. Even this came by whittling down the armor belt to where it was only 9.8 inches at its thickest, tapering to as thin as 3 inches near the bow, while the front forward tower and front turret faces were only 11 inches. Still, they were triple bottomed and had 23 watertight sections. While Terni made the armor for Cavour, Cesare’s and Da Vinci’s was imported from Bethlehem in Pennsylvania.

Plan, via the 1914 Jane’s

The three sisters, Cavour, Cesare, and Leonardo da Vinci, were laid down within weeks of each other in the summer of 1910 at three different yards (La Spezia, Gio. Ansaldo, and Odero) to be finished in 1913, one that would slip slightly due to Italy’s war with the Ottoman Empire and a diversion of resources during that period.

Hail, Cesare!

Our subject was named after the legendary Roman general and statesman of Et Tu Brute fame. Laid down at Ansaldo in Genoa on 24 June 1910, she launched on 15 October 1911 to much fanfare, one day after Da Vinci slid down the ways at Odero.

15 October 1911, Sestri-Ponente & Launch of Giulio Cesare, Bain News Service, LC DIG ggbain-09800-09879u

Fitting out would take nearly three full years, but she entered service on 14 May 1914, just 10 weeks before the “lights went out across Europe.”

Placing a 305 mm/12″ gun within Turret 2 of the Italian battleship Giulio Cesare, Genoa, 1912

Battleship Giulio Cesare during sea trials, 9 January 1913.

She was the first of her class commissioned, three days before Da Vinci and a full 11 months ahead of Cavour, which had been delayed due to Terni developing their cemented armor, while Ceasare and Da Vinci benefited from American imports.

Cesare compared to her contemporaries. Imagerie d Epinal Les Flotte de Guerre 

Great War

While the potential of a clash with the British and French loomed at the beginning of WWI, as Italy was officially an ally of Germany and Austria, the country’s quick declaration of neutrality, migrating to a polar shift to join the fight against Berlin and Vienna by May 1915, changed the orientation of the Italian battle fleet.

The Cavours were assigned to RADM Corsi’s 1st Battleship Division and left on seemingly eternal alert, ready to weigh anchor and sortie out within three hours.

Italian battleships of the Cesare Class, showing triple gun turrets, Great War. NH 111474 and IWM Q 19095

With the German Mediterranean Squadron chased to the Black Sea and the Austrian fleet effectively bottled up in the Adriatic, the naval war in the region devolved into four years of small craft and submarine operations as the respective battleships lay in wait for a decisive Tsushima/Battle of Yalu River/Manila Bay/Santiago style sea clash.

This led to a boring war for the Italian battleships as the Austrians decided to ride out the war safely at anchor rather than tempt a Jutland.

Sadly, Da Vinci would be lost to an unexplained magazine explosion while moored at Taranto in August 1916, taking a full quarter of her crew with her.

Da Vinci turned turtle at Taranto, August 1916.

In all, Cesare only spent 418 hours at sea during Italy’s war, 31 hours on combat missions (supporting operations in the islands of the Ionian archipelago in May 1917), and 387 hours in training/exercises, without ever encountering an enemy during the conflict in which her country suffered over 650,000 dead.

Interwar

The remaining sisters saw more sea time in the months just after Versailles than during the entire war, with Cavour heading to the Americas for a flag-waving cruise while Cesare toured the Eastern Med and stood by the Greek-Turkish conflict.

Cesare photographed at Constantinople, Turkey, in August 1919. Note that the ship is flying a Greek National Flag at the mainmast top. NH 47786

Jane’s 1921, with Da Vinci missing.

Following this, she had her first modernization, landing some small guns and her bow crest, picking up some AAA pieces, and changing her mast arrangements.

She also engaged in a bit of battleship diplomacy, being used in the seizure of Corfu in August 1923.

Italian battleship Giulio Cesare in La Spezia, 1925

A 1925 upgrade saw her pick up a Macchi M.18 seaplane over the stern along with a catapult and crane to retrieve it, and, after two years in ordinary, by 1928, she was relegated to use as a gunnery training ship, with the country soon after moving to build four new 40,000-ton Littorio-class battleships.

Jane’s 1929.

Great Rebuild

It was decided by the Italian admiralty in the early 1930s to not only keep on with the construction of a planned quartet of new Littorio-class 30-knot fast battleships, with their impressive 15-inch guns, but also to extensively modernize the two Cavours and the two similar yet slightly younger Andrea Doria-class battleships, giving Mussolini eight battleships in a decade. At least that was the plan, anyway.

Following the design by Gen. Francesco Rotundi, the Cavours and Dorias were rearming with more capable 12.6″/44 Model 1934 guns on upgraded mounts, with the middle Q mount deleted, giving them 10 new guns in place of 13 older ones, with a modern fire control house atop the conning tower.

Naples during the great 5 May 1938 naval review, showing the modernized Cavour followed by the similarly modernized Cesare and a heavy cruiser. NH 86147

The modernization also added armor, replaced the boilers and machinery, and deleted the casemate guns for more modern  3.9″/47 M1928 twin AA guns in high-angle turrets.

Cesare carried 12 of these 100 mm/47 (3.9″) Model 1928 AA guns in six twin turrets. These art deco-looking mounts were also used on the Trento, Zara, and Condotteri class cruisers.

They also picked up an assortment of twin Breda 37mm and Breda M31 13.2mm guns, landed the circa 1914 torpedo tubes, and lengthened the hull for added stability. Powered by eight more efficient Yarrow boilers and with 75,000shp on tap compared to the old 30,000shp, the class could make 27 knots, making them, at age 20, the fastest they had ever been.

Cesare underwent modernization at the Cantieri del Tirreno shipyard in Genoa from 25 October 1933 to 1 October 1937. Tellingly, the rebuild was one month longer than her original construction.

The U.S. Navy’s ONI, with war on the horizon, made sure to get several nice images of her in the late 1930s, essentially a new ship built around the upcycled bones of a circa 1914 dreadnought.

Cesare photographed during the late 1930s after her 1933-37 reconstruction. NH 86124

Cesare was photographed in 1938 following her 1933-37 reconstruction. NH 86127

Cesare photographed before World War II. The photograph has been retouched. NH 86590

Cesare at sea, 1938, photographed before World War II. NH 86588

Many shots endure from the epic May 1938 Naples Naval Review.

Italian battleship, either Cavour or Cesare, probably photographed during the 5 May 1938 naval review off Naples. Cant Z.501 flying boats be seen overhead. NH 86141

Cesare, 5 May 1938, at the Naval review off Naples. The torpedo boats Spica and Aldebaran appear in the background, NH 86142

Italian battleships Cavour and Cesare seen in column at the May 1938 Naval review off Naples. NH 86153

Italian battleships Cavour and Cesare seen in column at the May 1938 Naval review off Naples, followed by two Zara class cruisers. NH 86154

Cavour and Cesare seen in column at the May 1938 Naval review off Naples. NH 86151

5 May 1938, battleships Cavour and Cesare as seen from the fantail of a destroyer-type ship. Two cruisers appear in the right background, and a paravane for minesweeping can be seen on the ship’s stern in the foreground. NH 86148

Late 1930s, two Italian battleships and about nine or ten torpedo boats, the Cavour and Cesare, appear in the foreground, and the torpedo boat Altair can be identified in the background by her hull letters “AT.” NH 86140

A Second War

Cavour-class battleships as rebuilt, circa 1939. Luce archives via NHHC NH 111400

Giulio Cesare – San Giorgio, NH 111420

ONI 202 sheet on Cavour and Cesare.

Soon after Italy joined Germany in World War II, Cavour and Cesare, as the 5th Battleship Division, were part of a 14-cruiser/16 destroyer covering force running a convoy from Taranto across the Med to the country’s Libyan colony under the overall command of ADM Ingio Pola.

On the return trip, they crashed into a trio of Royal Navy task groups, Force A (five cruisers), Force B (battleship HMS Warspite and six destroyers), and Force C (battleships HMS Malaya and Royal Sovereign, carrier Eagle, 10 destroyers) on 9 July 1940, and the Battle of Calabria/Battle of Punta Stilo ensued.

During that clash, in which no ships were ultimately sunk on either side, Cesare opened fire on Warspite at an impressive 29,000 yards and, while her shells fell long, damaged two of the British battlewagon’s escorting destroyers. In return, the closing Warspite fired at and eventually hit Cesare with a 15-inch shell from 26,000 yards, exploding one of the Italian ship’s funnels and damaging four boilers, causing her to fall out of the battle line and reduce speed as Cavour took over. Cesare made it to Messina safely and took a month to repair.

Italian battleships at the Battle of Punta Stilo, July 9, 1940. Cavour opens fire with her 12.6-inch main battery during the battle. Photograph taken from aboard her sister ship Cesare. NH 86586

Italian battleship Giulio Cesare, seen from her sister Conte di Cavour, firing at HMS Warspite with her 320 mm guns, waters off Punta Stilo (Calabria), around 1555 h, 9 July 1940

Warspite hit on Cesare

Warspite hit on Cesare

Warspite hit on Cesare

Italian battleship Giulio Cesare after a hit from the HMS Warspite during the Battle of Calabria, 9 July 1940. The 15-inch shell hit the Italian ship from around 13nm. IWM HU 52333.

Then came the dramatic pre-Pearl Harbor night attack by a handful of British Fleet Air Arm Swordfish torpedo bombers from the carrier HMS Illustrious on the Italian battleship anchorage of Taranto on 11 November 1940.

Cobb, Charles David; Taranto Harbour, Swordfish from ‘Illustrious’ Cripple the Italian Fleet, 11 November 1940; National Museum of the Royal Navy, Portsmouth; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/taranto-harbour-swordfish-from-illustrious-cripple-the-italian-fleet-11-november-1940-116445

While Cesare was spared damage, one torpedo sank sister Conte di Cavour in shallow water and effectively took her out of the war.

Cesare would strike out against the British again at the Battle of Cape Spartivento/Cape Teulada in November, without giving or receiving much damage, and in convoy work, including what is remembered by the Brits as the First Battle of Sirte off Malta in December 1941.

With the Med becoming less and less friendly to Italian capital ships due to British submarines and land-based bombers, Cesare was largely port-bound by 1942 and was eventually withdrawn up the Adriatic to a safer anchorage at Pola (Pula) and reduced to training status. It would seem her war was effectively over.

During the 1940–1943 campaign, Cesare made 38 combat sorties, covering 16,947 miles in 912 sailing hours, and consumed 12,697 tons of oil in the process.

Russia-bound

Spared the indignity suffered by most other post-1942 Axis capital ships, which were sunk at their moorings by Allied bombers, when Italy switched sides on 8 September 1943, Cesare overcame a small mutiny by Mussolini-inclined crew and made it safely to Malta by the interned under British guns. She fought off German air attacks along the way and managed not to be sunk by her former allies, such as the Littorio-class battlewagon Roma, which was sunk by German Fritz X radio-controlled bombs launched by Do 217s on 9 September, taking over 1,300 of her crew to the bottom.

Cesare was the last Italian capital ship to arrive at Malta.

As the invasion of Italy pushed the Germans and the rump of the Italian socialist republic further and further up the country’s “boot,” Cesare and the two Dorias were released to return to Taranto in June 1944, where they languished in ordinary.

Post VE-Day, Cesare was one of a list of ex-Italian vessels held by an Allied commission to be handed out as trophies.

Cesare in the 1946 Jane’s.

This process dragged on for years as Stalin’s iron curtain descended across Eastern Europe and the Western Allies were in no hurry to keep giving his war machine new toys. It was only in December 1948 that she was moved to Sicily and finally removed from the Italian naval list, ending her 34 years of service to Rome.

Ex-Cesare was turned over to the very happy Soviets under ADM Gordey Ivanovich Levchenko on 6 February 1949.

While Stalin wanted the newer Littoros, Cesare was arguably the nicest battleship the Russians had at the time, despite her age and the fact that she had basically been in reserve for six years and had not been dry-docked in eight.

Soviet battleship Novorossiysk, formerly Italian Giulio Cesare, from Vlorë (Albania) to the Black Sea in late February 1949.

After Cesare departed for a Soviet port, the loaned Arkhangelsk (HMS Royal Sovereign) was returned to England for scrapping.

Dubbed originally Z11 and moved to Communist allied Albania for a quick two-week refit with an Italian adviser crew aboard, then departed for Sevastopol. By order of the Black Sea Fleet dated 5 March 1949, the Italian battleship was renamed Novorossiysk.

Reportedly in extremely poor condition, with inoperable diesel generators, leaking pipes, broken fittings, and suffering signs of purposeful Italian neglect and sabotage, the Russians spent the next several years trying to reshoe their gift horse.

Although the Italians had delivered a library of technical manuals and books on the ship’s systems, a handful of Russian Italian translators on hand lacked experience in the specialized terminology used in the tomes, particularly when it came to handwritten notes and abbreviations, and the books ultimately proved an alien language.

Soviet battleship Novorossiysk (the former Royal Italian Navy Giulio Cesare

After six weeks in dry dock at Sevastopol, Cesare/Novorossiysk sailed (briefly) as Black Sea Fleet flagship on maneuvers in July 1949. Over the next five years, she had five shipyard overhauls (July 1950, April-June 1951, June 1952, November 1954, and February-March 1955) in an attempt to bring old systems back online and add new ones.

Battleship Novorossiysk (Giulio Cesare) April 13, 1955

The Soviets added several new AAA batteries (24 twin 37mm V-11 guns, six 37mm 70-K automatic cannons) and a Zalp-M radar.

It was planned to put the elderly battlewagon into her second rebuild (first Russian), which would include new Soviet-made turbine engines and Russian Obukhovskii 12″/52 Pattern 1907 guns left over from the Tsarist Gangut, Imperatritsa Maria, and Imperator Nikolai I battleship classes.

She never made that grand overhaul.

Tragedy in Sevastopol

On the night of 28 October 1955, the 41-year-old Cesare/Novorossiysk returned from a cruise marking the 100th anniversary of the defense of Sevastopol and tied up at Buoy No. 3 near the Naval Hospital.

At 0131 on 29 October 29, a massive explosion under the ship’s starboard bow pierced the battleship’s hull, blew out part of the forecastle deck, and created a cavernous 1,600 sq. ft underwater hole.

Within a minute, a second explosion on the port side created what was later found to be a 2,000 sq. ft. hole in her hull.

The warship didn’t stand a chance and was settling on the harbor floor in minutes, and began to list, eventually turning turtle by the following evening.

At least 557 of the battleship’s crew were lost, along with some 60 men from the rest of the fleet who were lost in the attempt to save the ship and rescue trapped sailors.

We won’t get into the myriad of theories as to what killed Cesare/Novorossiysk, but suggestions have ranged from the far-fetched, such as Italian frogmen of the long-disbanded Xª MAS and long-dormant scuttling charges left aboard in 1948, to German bottom mines left over in the harbor’s silty bottom from their occupation of the port in WWII and assorted internal magazine explosions. Lingering mines seem the most likely cause, as extensive sweeps later found 32 mines on the bottom of Sevastopol’s harbor, some dating to the Great War.

In the end, with Stalin long gone and the Red Banner Fleet moving towards a more submarine and missile-borne strategy, the age of the Russian battleship came to an end as Cesare/Novorossiysk was raised over the course of the next 18 months and scrapped.

The final Soviet dreadnought, the circa 1911 Gangut/Oktyabrskaya Revolutsiya, was stricken on 17 February 1956 and slowly scrapped over the next two years.

After that, the handful of Turkish, French, British, and American battleships still on naval lists in NATO were soon taken out of service, with the Iowas staging a return in the 1980s-90s.

But gratefully, Cesare/Novorossiysk was the last one to go down with her flags flying.

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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Warship Wednesday 22 October 2025: Good in a Pinch

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 22 October 2025: Good in a Pinch

Photo provided courtesy of QM2 Robert C. Granger, USCGR, via MCPOCG R. Jay Lloyd, USCG (Ret.), USCG Historian’s Office

Above we see the USCG-manned Tacoma-class patrol frigate USS Annapolis (PF-15) later in her career, circa late 1945, as noted by the weather balloon shack on the quarterdeck.

A veteran of the Battle of the Atlantic during WWII, she was dispatched to the Pacific once that quieted down and, slated to wear a Red Banner in Stalin’s war against the Empire of Japan, was recalled at the last minute– just in time to save the day for an Alaskan port.

The Tacomas

One of the most generic convoy escorts ever designed was the River-class frigates of the Royal Navy and its sister Australian and Canadian services. Sturdy 301-foot/1,800-ton vessels, some 151 were built between May 1941 and April 1945.

Canadian River-class frigate HMCS Waskesiu (K330) with a bone in her mouth, 1944. Kodachrome via LAC

River Class – Booklet of General Plans, 1941, profile

Carrying a few QF 4″/40s, a suite of light AAA guns, and a huge array of ASW weapons with as many as 150 depth charges, they could make 20 knots and had extremely long range, pushing 7,000nm at a 15-knot cruising speed.

In a reverse Lend-Lease, two Canadian Vickers-built Rivers were transferred to the U.S. Navy in 1942: the planned HMS Adur (K296) and HMS Annan, which became the patrol gunboats —later patrol frigates USS Asheville (PG-101/PF-1) and USS Natchez (PG-102/PF-2). Built at Montreal, Asheville, and Natchez were completed with standard U.S. armament and sensors, including three 3″/50s, two 40mm mounts, Oerlikons, and SC-5 and SG radar. Everything else, including the power plant, was British.

USS Asheville (PF-1) plans

With that, the New York naval architecture firm of Gibbs & Cox took the River class frigate plans and tweaked them gently to become the Tacoma-class frigates. Some 2,200 tons at full load, these 303-foot ships used two small tube express boilers and two  J. Hendy Iron Works VTE engines on twin screws to cough up 5,500shp, good for just over 20 knots with a 9,500nm range at 12 knots. Standard armament was a carbon copy of Asheville/Natchez: three 3″/50s, two twin 40mm mounts, nine Oerlikons, two stern depth charge racks, eight Y-gun depth charge throwers, a 24-cell Hedgehog Mk 10 ASWRL, and 100 ash cans. Radar was upgraded to the SA and SL series, while the hull-mounted sonar was a QGA set.

USS Albuquerque 1943 (PF-7), Tacoma class patrol frigate 200414-G-G0000-0003

These could be built at non-traditional commercial yards under Maritime Commission (MC Type T. S2-S2-AQ1) contracts, using an all-welded hull rather than the riveted hull of the British/Canadian Rivers. Many of these would be constructed on the Great Lakes, including by ASBC in Ohio (13 ships), Froemming (4), Walter Butler (12), Globe (8), and Leathem Smith (8) in Wisconsin. On the East Coast, Walsh-Kaiser in Rhode Island made 21, while on the West Coast, Kaiser Cargo and Consolidated Steel in California produced a combined 30 ships.

Using compartmentalized construction, they went together fast. No less than nine Tacomas were built in less than five months, 16 were built in less than six months, and 11 others were built in less than seven months. These times stack up well to the original River class built in British yards, where the best time recorded was 7.5 months. In Canada, the fastest time was just over 5 months.

The Tacomas cost about $2.3 million apiece, compared to $3.5 million for a Cannon-class destroyer escort, or $6 million for a Fletcher-class destroyer, in 1944 dollars.

Meet Annapolis

Our subject was the second Navy warship to carry the name of the Maryland location of the Naval Academy, with the first being the leader of a class of composite steel gunboats, PG-10, which had a lifespan that included service from 1897 through 1940.

Laid down as Hull 842, Maritime Commission No. 1481, at American Shipping Company, Lorain, on 20 May 1943 as PF-15, the second Annapolis was side launched into Lake Erie on Saturday, 16 October 1943, sponsored by Mrs. Belva Grace McCready.

The future USS Annapolis is preparing for launch with her glad rags flying.

The future USS Annapolis (PF-15) was launched at the American Shipbuilding Company shipyard, Lorain, Ohio, on 16 October 1943. NH 66293

The future USS Annapolis (PF-15) just after launch on 16 October 1943. NH 66190

Annapolis was then floated down the Mississippi River to Port Houston Iron Works in Houston, Texas, where she was completed. The Navy commissioned Annapolis at Galveston’s Pier 19 on 4 December 1944, her construction running just over 18 months.

Her plank owner skipper was a regular, CDR Montegue Frederick Garfield, USCG, who was one very interesting character.

Garfield had been born Henry Frederick Garcia at Morro Castle, Puerto Rico, in 1903, the son of Major Enrique Garcia of the Army’s QM Corps. He graduated, ironically, from the USNA at Annapolis in 1924 but, like his father, opted for a career in the Army, becoming a red leg in the field artillery. In 1928, at the height of the Army’s peacetime budget-cutting efforts, he opted to get his sea legs back and accepted an ensign’s commission in the USCG, becoming the service’s first Hispanic-American officer.

Henry Frederick Garcia/Garfield

After service on numerous CG destroyers on the East Coast during the tail end of Prohibition, he was assigned as engineering officer aboard USCGC Shoshone in the Pacific, which supported the doomed Earhart circumnavigation and the later search for the missing aviatrix. He then commanded USCGC Morris in Alaska in 1939, proving key in the evacuation of the fishing village of Perryville during the Mount Veniaminof eruption, then later saved the shipwrecked crew of the exploration schooner Pandora.

During the first part of WWII, Garcia served as XO of Base Charleston, where he participated in the seizure of the interned Italian cargo vessel Villaperosa, then served in Baltimore with the MSTS until being made Assistant Captain of the Port of Los Angeles, where he legally changed his name to Garfield.

Convoy runs

The newly commissioned Annapolis departed for a shakedown cruise to Bermuda on 13 December 1944 and arrived at Norfolk, Virginia, in early February 1945 after workups with the DD/DDE Task Group for post-shakedown availability.

Along the way, she came across the 9,830-ton Texaco oil tanker SS New York in the dark, which almost ended badly.

From her war diary:

Annapolis. USS J. Franklin Bell (APA 16) is on the left. Photo courtesy of QM2 Robert C. Granger, USCGR, via MCPOCG R. Jay Lloyd, USCG (Ret.) 200415-G-G0000-0010

Our frigate then made her first trans-Atlantic escort-of-convoy crossing, with U.S. to Gibraltar-bound UGS.75, leaving Hampton Roads on 17 February. Annapolis rode shotgun with five other escorts–USS Nelson (DD-623), Livermore (DD-429), Andres (DE-45), John M. Bermingham (DE-530), and Chase (DE-158)— over 55 merchant ships, arriving safely at Oran, Algeria, on 5 March 1945. She returned to New York with East-West Convoy GUS.89 on 30 March 1945.

After two weeks’ availability, Annapolis departed on exercises on 13 April 1945. She then left on her second escort-of-convoy crossing, with UGS.88 (the five escorts of CortDiv 42, along with 41 merchants) arriving at Gibraltar on 7 May 1945. Among the escorts she sailed with on this milk run, Annapolis had her ASBC-built sister USS Bangor (PF-16) alongside.

She was anchored at Mers el Kebir, Algeria, with Bangor, on 9 May 1945, and there received the news that Germany had surrendered while waiting to head back to the U.S. with Convoy GUS 90. On the ride back, Garcia/Garfield became commander of CortDiv 42.

At the same time, CDR Garcia/Garfield’s little brother, CDR (future RADM) Edmund Ernest García (USNA ’27), was commander of 58th Escort Division in the Atlantic Fleet, having earned a Bronze Star in fighting the destroyer escort USS Sloat (DE-245) across the Tunisian Coast in the face of Luftwaffe air attacks and seen action in the invasions of Africa, Sicily, and France.

Small world!

Annapolis and Bangor returned to Philadelphia from the ETO on 2 June 1945. After two weeks’ availability, they departed Philadelphia on 16 June 1945, bound for the west coast, as the Pacific War was still on. After passing through the Panama Canal– where they conducted ASW training for the new construction submarines of Subron3 for a month– they shifted station to Puget Sound Navy Yard outside Seattle to remove sensitive gear and refit for further service, with an all-new crew.

It seemed the sisters were slated to fly a red flag.

Russia-bound (?)

Annapolis and Bangor were to be the last two of 30 Tacomas transferred to the Soviet Navy at Cold Bay, Alaska, as part of  Project Hula. They were to have the Russian pennant numbers EK-23 and EK-24, respectively.

On 1 September, Annapolis took on five officers and 25 enlisted from the Red Navy, under the command of CDR VN Milhailav, from Seattle, and left with Bangor steaming in tandem for Cold Bay.

It was while underway from Seattle to Cold Bay that the twins received, almost back to back, the announcement of the formal surrender of Japan on 2 September, followed by the news that the U.S. had suspended all further transfers of ships to the Russkis.

Annapolis and Bangor arrived at Cold Bay on 7 September, where they landed their Soviets and instead took aboard American personnel (five officers and 117 enlisted) requiring transportation to Kodiak, arriving on that far northern island on 9 September. Thus, Bangor and Annapolis were the only two frigates scheduled for transfer under Project Hula not delivered, with 28 sisters going on to serve with the Russians up until the eve of the Korean War.

Right place at the right time

Leaving Kodiak bound for Cold Harbor on 10 September, Annapolis received a distress call from the disabled fishing boat Sanak, which she found the next day and towed to Chignik Bay.

Arriving back at Cold Bay on the 12th, over the next two days, she took aboard U.S. personnel (nine officers and 155 men), then hauled them back to Kodiak alongside Bangor and the 110-foot SC-497 class submarine chaser, USS SC-1055, which had also been scheduled to be given to the Russians but was retained at the last minute. After landing those men, the three humble escorts were ordered to Seattle, with a stop at Ketchikan.

It was there on 22 September that the recently arrived frigates came to the aid of the Canadian-flagged Grand Trunk Pacific Railway liner SS Prince George (3,372 GRT), which had caught fire while tied up at Ketchikan’s Heckman Municipal Pier.

The liner Prince George had been built for GTPR in England in 1910. The 307-foot coaster was capable of carrying 236 passengers and light cargo at 18 knots and had been on the Vancouver to Southeast Alaskan run for 35 years, with a break in the Great War as a 200-bed hospital ship. (Walter E Frost – City of Vancouver Archives)

Notably, HMC Prince George was the first Great War Commonwealth hospital ship, converted at Esquimalt in 1914.

Smoke billows from the liner SS Prince George in Tongass Narrows on 22 September 1945. Ketchikan Museums: Tongass Historical Society Collection, THS 72.1.3.1

With Garcia/Garfield the senior officer present, he directed the frigates intermittently alongside the blazing Prince George using all available firefighting gear and saving 50 men stranded aboard the liner. To avoid having the stricken ship capsize at the dock, Annapolis effected a dead stick tow and beached the vessel on the shallow shores off Gravina Island to allow her to burn out quietly.

Look at all those depth charges. Official caption: “Smoking disaster at a Coast Guard base in Ketchikan, Alaska, the Coast Guard-manned frigate Annapolis maneuvers to tow the blazing liner Prince George downstream and away from the town. The ill-fated liner now lies, a blackened hulk, on nearby Gravina Island; only one of over 100 crew members has lost.” USCG photo. National Archives Identifier 205580274, Local Identifier 26-G-4818.

The fire raged for days, only dying out when the superstructure collapsed. Maritime Museum of British Columbia 010.036.0003j

Declared a total loss, the wreck was refloated and towed to Seattle for scrapping in 1949. Maritime Museum of British Columbia 010.036.0035

Their job done, Annapolis, Bangor, and SC-1055 shipped down from Ketchikan the next day via the inland passage through the Seymour Narrows, with Garcia/Garfield in charge of the small task force, arriving at Indian Head Ammo Depot outside of Seattle on the 25th. Annapolis then entered Puget Sound Navy Yard the next day for availability. Of note, the surplus SC-1055 was transferred to the Coast Guard as USCGC Air Sheldrake (WAVR 461) for continued service.

It was while at Puget Sound that Annapolis was refitted as a Weather and Plane Guard ship, landing much of her ASW gear and adding a weather balloon shack aft.

On 5 January 1946, she arrived at San Francisco then assumed Weather Station “E” until 5 April 1946.

Annapolis departed San Francisco on 16 April 1946, bound for Seattle, where she was decommissioned on 29 May 1946, her Coast Guard crew, mostly reservists enlisted for the duration, exiting Navy service.

Transfer, effected

With the Navy having no appetite for these slow little frigates at a time when they were mothballing brand new destroyers and DEs by the dozens, both Annapolis and Bangor were soon sold as surplus to Mexico. Annapolis became ARM General Vicente Guerrero, later ARM Rio Usumacinta, while Bangor was renamed ARM General José María Morelos, and later ARM Golfo de Tehuantepec. They were joined by Tacoma-class sisters ex-USS Hutchinson (as ARM California) and ex-Gladwyne (ARM Papaloapan), and, rated as “fragatas,” were all stationed on the Mexican Pacific Coast.

Annapolis in Mexican service

Jane’s 1960 listing of the four Mexican Navy Tacomas.

The four sisters remained in Mexican service until scrapped in 1964.

Epilogue

Little of PF-15 remains. Her war diaries are digitized in the National Archives.

As for Garcia/Garfield, after leaving Annapolis, he was made skipper of the famed USCGC Campbell (WPG-32), then was head of personnel for the Coast Guard’s Eighth District in New Orleans. He finished his career as a captain in 1956 after five years as the Chief of Intelligence of the 12th USCG District in San Francisco, then moved to San Diego and got into real estate. In all, he spent 35 years in uniform between the USNA, the Army, and the USCG. Capt. Garfield died 26 June 1966, and was buried in Section A-H, Site 52, in Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery, just west of San Diego.

His father, Maj. Garcia, was buried in Arlington National Cemetery in 1932 and was joined by his brother, Edmund, after the retired admiral died in 1971.

The Navy recycled the name for a third Annapolis, giving it to the reconfigured jeep carrier ex-USS Gilbert Islands (CVE-107) when that WWII/Korean War vet was reclassified as a Major Communications Relay Ship (AGMR-1) on 1 June 1963. That floating antennae farm was disposed of in 1979.

USS Annapolis (AGMR-1) Underway at slow speed in New York Harbor, 12 June 1964, soon after completing conversion from USS Gilbert Islands (AKV-39, originally CVE-107). Staten Island ferryboats are in the left and center backgrounds. NH 106715

A fourth USS Annapolis, a Los Angeles-class submarine (SSN-760), was commissioned in 1992 and is currently part of the  Guam-based SubRon15, although she is slated to decommission in FY27.

ROCKINGHAM, Western Australia (March 10, 2024) – U.S. Navy Sailors assigned to the Los Angeles-class fast-attack submarine USS Annapolis (SSN 760) and HMAS Stirling Port Services crewmembers prepare the submarine to moor alongside Diamantina Pier at Fleet Base West in Rockingham, Western Australia, March 10, 2024.

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

***

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Warship Wednesday, October 15, 2025: One Tough Cat

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, October 15, 2025: One Tough Cat

Royal Navy official photographer Lt. SJ Beadell, IWM FL 7995

Above we see the armed merchant cruiser HMS Cheshire (F 18) in war paint at anchor at Greenock, 5 December 1942. Note her mixed battery of six 6-inch and two 3-inch guns arranged in tubs around her decks.

At the time, this grey lady had already caught and survived torpedoes from no less than two different U-boats and still had a lot of war left in her.

The Bibby 10,000 tonners

The Liverpool-based Bibby Line was founded in 1807 by the first John Bibby and continues to exist as one of the UK’s oldest family-owned shipping businesses. It’s Bibby Steam Ship Co., operating from 1891 with its flagship, the 3,870-ton Harland and Wolff-built SS Lancashire, recording the fastest time on the Burma run at 23 days and 20 hours.

Looking to grow and maintain its England to Burma service, Bibby ordered a new SS Lancashire, this one a stately 9,445-ton steamship, in 1914 from Harland & Wolff. Not completed until 1918 due to the Great War, her first cruises were in repatriating French prisoners of war and later Belgian refugees, as well as shuttling troops around the Empire before being released to her owners in 1920.

A sister, Yorkshire, was also constructed to a similar plan.

With peacetime accommodation for 295 1st class passengers in addition to mail and cargo, Lancashire proved popular, especially on lease to the Crown for delivering troops overseas, and a follow-on class of six near-sisters were soon ordered.

With four masts, a single large funnel, and elegant decks, the 482-foot, 9,445-ton SS Lancashire and her sister Yorkshire were elegant, especially for the Rangoon “Burma Boat” run, and would remain in Bibby’s service until 1946. Note the “HMT” designation on this period postcard, notable as she spent 1918-20 and 1939-45 in service to the Crown, along with numerous lease terms on a £400 per day rate.

Ordered from Fairfield Shipbuilding and Engineering Company of Govan in Glasgow starting in 1925, MV Shropshire (Yard No. 619), followed by our MV Cheshire (620), MV Staffordshire (630), MV Worcestershire (640), MV Derbyshire (653), and MV Devonshire (670) were delivered by 1939.

While Lancashire/Yorkshire had been designed to run a coal plant (replaced by oil-fired boilers in a 1921 conversion), the new “Shires” would be run on two Sulzer 8-cyl (28, 39in) diesel engines from the start, with a speed pushing 14.5 knots, sustained. As such, these were the first Bibby liners to be motorships rather than steamships. Since the diesels were more compact and required no stokers, they freed up extra cargo and passenger space over the old design.

The design remained close enough to keep the same general dimensions (482 feet registered length vs 483) as Lancashire/Yorkshire, albeit a couple of feet wider (60 vs 57), which grew the displacement to 10,500 tons. To be certain, this continued to grow as the class was built out, with Staffordshire expanding to 62 feet across the beam, Worcestershire to 64, Derbyshire to 66, with the resulting heft in tonnage as well. Devonshire, the last of the class, would balloon to 12,796 tons.

They kept a similar 275 1st class passenger capacity as Lancashire/Yorkshire. This was arranged in two overall decks, a third deck below outside the engine room, and a forecastle, long bridge, and poop deck above. There were eight main bulkheads dividing the ship into two peaks, the engine room and six holds, four of them forward, and No. 4 abaft the bridge, worked by derricks on posts just forward of the single funnel, along with a 1,340 cu ft in a refrigerated hold. Boats included 10 26-foot lifeboats, two 22-foot accident boats, and two motor launches.

Crews were small for liners, hovering around 200, with British stewards quartered in the forecastle and Lascar seamen in the poop.

The passenger areas and cabins, to the “Bibby tandem” design, were much better appointed than on Lancashire, as shown by this circa 1930s pamphlet of Worcestershire:

They also had all the cutting-edge navigational gear of the era, including wireless direction finding and submarine signaling.

These half-dozen new 10,000-ton Shires, along with Lancashire and Yorkshire, graced Bibby’s posters and cards during the 1920s and 30s, with the line expanding regular service from Liverpool and Plymouth beyond Rangoon to Colombo and Cochin with assorted stops along the way.

Meet Cheshire

Our subject was Official Number 149625, Fairfield Yard No. 620, and built at Govan like her sisters, following class leader Shropshire by just 10 months when she was launched on the Clyde on 20 April 1927.

Cheshire finished fitting out and was delivered that July, with Bibby soon putting her into Far East service shortly after. In doing so, she replaced the smaller Bibby steamship SS Warwickshire, which had been in service for 25 years.

Her pre-war service was quiet, as one would expect. Her typical run was Liverpool to Rangoon via Gibraltar, Port Said, Port Sudan, and Colombo, a regular sea-going Agatha Christie novel. Between 1928 and 1934, she logged an impressive 447,361 miles.

Torpedo Bait

On 29 August 1939, just three short days before the Germans marched into Poland, Cheshire became one of ultimately 41 Royal Navy Armed Merchant Cruisers to see service in WWII (along with three each in the RAN and RCN).

This amounted to removing most of their superfluous peacetime appointments, reducing their masts and rigging, landing excess lifeboats, slapping on a coat of thick grey paint (later camouflaged), and adding a mixed battery of 6″/45 Mark VII/VIIIs left removed from Great War era battleships and cruisers (an amazing 629 of these were in storage in 1939), along with a couple of more modern 3″/50s and machine guns to dissuade low-flying aircraft.

Cheshire profiles, pre-war and WWII, by JH Isherwood, Sea Breezes magazine, circa 1962.

Likewise, three of her sisters (Shropshire, Worcestershire, and Derbyshire) were similarly converted as AMCs, while the balance became troop carriers.

Sister HMS Worcestershire at Greenock in 1943. Shropshire, Cheshire, and Derbyshire all had similar 1939-43 appearances. IWM (A 17213)

HMS Worcestershire is shown as AMC. IWM FL21782

Cheshire was commissioned on 30 October, with the pennant number F18, and was tasked initially with patrolling the North Sea for German blockade runners.

Cheshire’s first convoy run was from Freetown, Sierra Leone, to Plymouth with Convoy SLF.16 for two weeks in January 1940, being the largest escort in the force of two destroyers and HM Severn, which were returning to duty in Home Waters.

February 1940 saw her as part of SL.20, shipping from Freetown to Plymouth in line with the AMC HMS Esperance Bay and four V-class destroyers.

In March, she rode shotgun with SL.24 from Freetown to Liverpool.

May 1940 saw her patrolling from Gibraltar off Vigo, Spain, with the destroyer HMS Keppel (D84), searching for German blockade runners, raiders, and U-boats.

It was during this duty that she rescued survivors from the torpedoed French cargo liner Brazza, sunk on 28 May by U-37. Working alongside the French gunboat Enseigne Henry, the two ships accounted for 52 crew members, 98 military passengers (56 French Navy, 17 French Army, and 25 Colonial Troops,) and 47 civilian passengers (20 men, 19 women, and eight children) from Brazza who survived the sinking. Another 379 were never recovered.

While deployed with the Western Approaches Defence Force on 16 August 1940, Cheshire spotted a prowling U-boat and birddogged the destroyer HMS Arrow (H 42).

Starting 7 October 1940, she and her fellow AMC, HMS Salopian (ex sister Shropshire, renamed as there was already a cruiser named Shropshire), was part of the first leg of an early “Winston’s Special” Convoy, WS 3 (Fast), leaving Liverpool with seven large 20,000-ton transports carrying troops to North Africa the long way round via Freetown and Cape Town.

On 8 October, the Orient Liner turned troopship Oronsay (20043 GRT) was damaged by Focke-Wulf Fw 200 Condors of I./KG 40 off Ireland’s Bloody Foreland and forced to leave the convoy, escorted by Cheshire and the destroyers Arrow and Ottawa, which took her safely into Lough Foyle.

Returning to sea, at 21.28 on 14 October, Cheshire was promptly struck in her No.2 hold by one torpedo from U-137 (Kptlt. Herbert Wohlfarth), northwest of Ireland. The A-class destroyer HMCS Skeena (D 59) and Flower-class corvette HMS Periwinkle (K 55) embarked all 230 survivors from Cheshire and put parties on board to maintain steam until a tug arrived to take the damaged ship in tow for repair.

Cheshire was successfully towed to Belfast Lough, where she was beached. She was taken to Liverpool for repairs requiring six months.

The 10,000-ton Bibby liners were tough for sure. Sister HMS Worcestershire (F 29) likewise survived a torpedo from U-74 in March 1941, suffering but one casualty. She limped into port on her own power, was repaired, and back on the job in four months.

Sadly, sister Salopian/Shropshire succumbed to three fish from U-98 while off Greenland in April, but remarkably, only sent two of her crew to the bottom with their vessel, while the 278 survivors were landed in Iceland. Even more tragic, her half-sister, the Yorkshire, was also sunk off Cape Finisterre, via two torpedoes from U-37, just 10 weeks into the war, carrying passengers and cargo to Rangoon while still in merchant service. Yorktown carried 58 passengers and crew to the cold embrace of the Atlantic.

Following repairs, Cheshire joined Convoy SL 020F in February 1941 and SL 024 in March. A short run to Iceland, Convoy DS 3, escorting two troopships to the Allied-occupied island from Clyde, was tense but successful.

She continued her convoy escort work with Halifax to Liverpool HX 131 in June 1941, an 11-day crossing. The follow-up Liverpool to Halifax Convoy OB 335 finished up the month.

Convoy BHX.137 and HX 137 came in July 1941.

On 10 January 1942, Cheshire was tasked to escort Convoy WS.15 from Liverpool to embattled Singapore via Cape Town. With 24 steamers packed with troops and munitions, the escort amounted to our subject, the AMC Ascania, the old battleship HMS Resolution (09), the small Dutch cruiser Heemskerk, and a half dozen destroyers and sloops. The convoy suffered one loss, a freighter damaged by U-402 on 16 January, and was later forced to disperse once Singapore fell on 15 February, with the ships proceeding to Suez, Colombo, and Bombay as ordered.

It was during this trip, on 14 March 1942, while on patrol off Cape Town, that Cheshire stopped the German auxiliary minelayer and blockade runner Doggerbank (Schiff 53), which was the British freighter Speybank, which had been captured and converted by the Hilfskreuzer Atlantis in the Indian Ocean a year prior. Doggerbank, flying the ship’s old red duster, successfully identified herself as her sister ship, the Bank Line steamer Levenbank, and was allowed to proceed.

Cheshire can’t be blamed for the mistake; the Royal Navy’s D (Danae)-class light cruiser HMS Durban (D 99) had intercepted the wily Doggerbank two days before with the same result.

Ironically, her British lines would seal her fate, and Doggerbank/Speybank would later be sunk by one of the Kriegsmarine’s own U-boats, which was sure they were sinking an Allied merchant.

Getting back to escort duty, Cheshire rode with WS 19 during passage from Cape Town to Durban in June 1942.

Her final blue water convoy run as an AMC came with Freetown to Liverpool-bound SL 118, her fourth SL/MKS convoy, in August 1942. Amounting to 37 merchants escorted by 12 warships and Cheshire, the convoy had the misfortune of being haunted for a fortnight by the eight U-boats of Wolfpack Blücher, who claimed five of the merchants. Also damaged during this slow-running fight was Cheshire herself, who caught a single fish from a four-torpedo spread from U-214 (Kptlt. Günther Reeder) at 18.52 hours on 18 August.

Undeterred, Cheshire was able to make port on her own power, after all, she had been torpedoed before.

Repaired, she rode with the short coastwise Convoy FS.19 from Methil to Southend in May 1943, where she was paid off on 9 June 1943.

Her escort service as an AMC is remembered in maritime art by Jim Rae.

“AMC HMS Cheshire escorting Admiralty Floating Dock 53, towed in two halves by Tugs HMS Roode Zee and Thames with seven escorts from Montevideo to Bahia. Escort then passed to AMC Alcantara for onward passage to Africa.” By Jim Rae

Troop service (and continued torpedo bait)

Post-Torch and Husky, and with the British fleet much reinforced with new escorts, Cheshire and her surviving sisters were returned to their owner, who operated them, still armed, with merchant crews as troopships under charter to the Ministry of War Transport.

Derbyshire at Clyde, as a troop landing ship with LCVPs on her sides.

HMT Cheshire, Malta

Lancashire as HMT, Malta

On the eve of D-Day, HMT Cheshire joined Convoy ETP1 (sometimes also seen as EWP 1) in the Thames Estuary, where she met the fellow Bibby liners Lancashire (convoy commodore), Devonshire, and sister Worcestershire. Loaded with 10,000 troops of the train of the 3rd Canadian Infantry Division and elements of the Second British Army, they arrived off Juno Beach on 7 June 1944.

Cheshire also had another brush with death on the sea when she sailed on Christmas Eve 1944, alongside the Belgian troopship Leopoldville, escorted by four destroyers, from Southampton across the English Channel to Cherbourg. The two troopships carried the bulk of the U.S. 66th “Black Panther” Infantry Division, and while Cheshire made it to Cherbourg unharmed with her charges, Leopoldville was sunk by U-486, taking 816 Belgian sailors, RN armed guards, and American soldiers with her to the bottom.

Shipping to the Far East in 1945, Cheshire both shuttled Commonwealth troops around the Pacific for occupation duty once Japan quit the war and carried former Allied POWs home. On 23 November, she brought the last Australian former POWs home from Singapore.

Sydney, NSW 1945-11-23. The steamship Cheshire which carried the last group of ex-prisoners of war to return home from Singapore. (Photographer LCpl E. Mcquillan) AWM 123738

Sydney, NSW 1945-11-23. A Group Of The Last Prisoners Of War To Arrive From Singapore Wave To Friends As The Steamship Cheshire Pulls Into Its Berth At Woolloomooloo. Left To Right: Sapper Sullivan, Driver (Dvr) Pasfield, Dvr Mcbean, Private (Pte) Johnston, Pte Mainwaring, And Pte Kermode. (Photographer L. Cpl E. McQuillan)/ Sydney, NSW 1945-11-23. A Group Of The Last Prisoners Of War To Arrive From Singapore Sitting On The Edge Of The Top Deck Of The Steamship Cheshire. Left To Right: Nx65713 Private (Pte) D. Johnson; Nx44139 Pte A. S. Kermode; Nx56312 Driver (Dvr) M. Pasfield; Nx66021 Sapper D. Sullivan; Nx10767 Pte A. Mainwaring; And Qx19008 Dvr R. Mcbean. (Photographer L. Cpl E. McQuillan) AWM 123727/28

She also carried Dutch POWs to Java and Borneo. It was estimated that upwards of 80,000 troops rode Cheshire during the war.

Cheshire was further used for civilian repatriation services, for instance, carrying Gibraltar residents back home in September 1946 who had been evacuated to Northern Ireland in late 1940 when it looked like Spain might invade the colony.

Liner, again

On 5 October 1948, Cheshire was finally released to the owner and allowed to return to commercial service. She was overhauled and rebuilt as a rather spartan emigrant ship, with accommodation for 650 passengers, and three of her masts removed.

Thus minimally refurbished, she sailed on her first Liverpool to Sydney voyage on 9 August 1949, carrying Europeans fleeing war-shattered and Iron Curtain-divisioned Europe for the hope of a better life Down Under.

She would eventually return to trooping duties for the Korean War, able to carry a battalion at a time back and forth from the Peninsula to Europe.

Paid off for good at Liverpool in February 1957, she arrived at Newport on 11 July of that year for breaking by BISCO’s John Cashmore Ltd., having completed a very busy 30 years of service.

Epilogue

Of Cheshire’s sisters who survived the war, Staffordshire likewise returned to service with Bibby and was broken up in Japan in 1959.

Worcestershire lived long enough to be renamed Kannon Maru for her 1961 voyage to the breakers in Osaka.

Derbyshire was scrapped at Hong Kong in 1963.

Devonshire, used for trooping during WWII and Korea, was present at Operation Grapple, the joint U.S./British atomic bomb tests conducted at Christmas Island (Kiritimati/Kiribati) in 1957, having carried Royal Engineers and landing craft crews there to prepare the sites. Later converted to the school ship Devonia for the British India Steam Navigation Co., she was the last of her class disposed of, broken in La Spezia in 1967.

Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive

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