by Clay Blair
• That same day, in the same area, a swarm of British Hudsons based in Algeria found and attacked the newly arrived Delphin boat U-595, commanded by Jürgen Quaet-Faslem. Two Hudsons of Squadron 608, piloted by G. Williams and C. A. Livingstone, attacked U-595, dropping eight depth charges that damaged the boat and left her unable to dive. Later in the day, five Hudsons of Squadron 500 found U-595 on the surface, “a sitting duck,” as one pilot later wrote. Led by Wing Commander Denis Spotswood (later RAF Air Marshal), they attacked in the teeth of heavy flak. The Germans hit four of the Hudsons, including Spotswood’s, and, amazingly, 17-595 survived all these attacks.
Believing he might escape with help from the Vichy French ashore, Quaet-Faslem dumped his Enigma machine and all secret documents and ran at full speed for the beach at Cape Tenes. His plan was to put most of the crew ashore, then return to deep water and scuttle, but the plan went awry. He unintentionally ran U-595 hard aground at Cape Khamis—seventy miles northeast of Oran—and could not get her off. The captain and crew attempted to destroy the boat with demolition charges, then all but one enlisted man, who was captured by the British destroyer Wivern, swam ashore and made contact with a Vichy French officer. Believing him to be an ally, the Germans surrendered their arms. Collecting reinforcements along the way, the Frenchman led the forty-four Germans to the village of Picard, where he made arrangements to feed and house them for the night. Alerted by British air and naval forces, at about midnight, a U.S. Army tank unit arrived and captured Quaet-Faslem and his forty-three men, the only instance to this point in the war in which a U-boat crew fell to Allied ground forces. By the end of the month, the survivors of U-595 were in the United States, undergoing interrogations.
• On the following day, November 15, Hudson pilot Mike Ensor of Squadron 500, who had severely damaged U-458, found on the surface the newly arrived Delphin boat U-259, commanded by Klaus Köpke. Ensor attacked with four depth charges, one of which fell directly on the topside deck and caused a violent secondary explosion that threw the deck gun and entire conning tower skyward. The boat then sank swiftly, leaving no survivors. The flying debris wrecked the low-flying Hudson, forcing Ensor and his three crewmen to bail out into the sea about twenty miles north of Algiers. Ensor and one other man survived this perilous victory and were rescued by British surface ships. The other two crewmen perished.
• Two days later, November 17, in the same area, Squadron Leader Ian C. Patterson in another Hudson of Squadron 500 found and attacked the veteran U-331, commanded by Ritterkreuz holder Hans-Dietrich von Tiesenhausen, who had sunk the British battleship Barham in 1941. Three depth charges and one ASW bomb wrecked the boat and blew open the torpedo-loading hatch in the bow compartment, flooding that space. Two other Hudsons of Squadron 500, piloted by Andrew W. Barwood and a Sergeant Young joined Patterson and carried out depth-charge and strafing attacks, which killed and wounded some Germans who had come topside. Von Tiesenhausen ran up a white flag.* The Hudson airmen cheered this second surrender (after U-570) of a U-boat to British aircraft.
The celebration was short-lived. A Royal Navy Martlet fighter suddenly appeared on the scene and strafed the boat, killing more Germans and wounding von Tiesenhausen, his second watch officer, Irwin A. K. Hartwig, and others. Then, to the further dismay of Patterson in the Hudson, a Royal Navy Albacore torpedo-bomber of Squadron 820 on the carrier Formidable came out of nowhere and sank U-331 with a torpedo, killing many Germans who were still belowdecks. The British destroyer Wilton, racing from Algiers to assist in the capture, and a British Walrus flying boat fished out von Tiesenhausen and sixteen other Germans, one of whom was later killed while attempting to escape at Gibraltar. Although the Hudson airmen of Squadron 500 were furious at this botched U-boat “capture” (as they thought), they were rightly pleased when they learned the British had in custody the German “hero” who had sunk the Barham.†
When it learned of the first four of the five U-boat losses inside the Mediterranean, the OKM directed Dönitz to replace them with Type VIIs from the Atlantic force. Dönitz registered the familiar protests—the high risks for poor returns, the overcrowded bases—but in view of the perilous position of the Afrika Korps, he complied as swiftly as possible. The four VIIs sailed for the Mediterranean in the last days of November and early days of December. They were to slip through the Strait of Gibraltar during the new moon? from December 4 to 9. Only three of the four made it: Willy-Roderich Körner in U-301, Konstantin von Puttkamer in U-443, and Philipp Schüler in U-602* These additions were to put the Mediterranean U-boat force at twenty-three boats at the end of 1942, of which at least four (U-73, U-97, U-458, and U-561) were in the yards for extensive battle-damage repair.
On the whole, the U-boat opposition to Torch inside the Mediterranean was pitiful. It replicated the U-boat defense of Norway in April 1940.† It proved once again that submarines of that era were not suitable weapons systems for use against an alert, fast, heavily defended naval task force engaged in an amphibious assault. In Torch, Weichold and Kreisch compounded the problem by attempting to micro-manage the U-boat defense by radio from various headquarters nearly one thousand miles from the scene. They shunted the U-boats back and forth willy-nilly, changing their orders or groups every few hours, or so it seemed. Given this, it is astonishing that Allied forces sank only five of the U-boats.
To recapitulate, the Mediterranean U-boat force in the month of November sank eight ships (including two destroyers) for 57,200 tons. In addition, they damaged two ships, the 1,200-ton British sloop Stork and the 7,500-ton British freighter Lalande. Apart from the destroyers, the big prize was the British liner/troopship Viceroy of India.†
Harassed by the teeming Allied aircraft and naval task forces, the U-boat skippers usually could get only a brief glimpse of their targets and the results of their torpedo attacks. Doubtless, depth-charge explosions were often reported as torpedo hits. These and other factors led to many overclaims. The chief overclaimer was Albrecht Brandi in the newly arrived Delphin boat U-617. He reported hits on a battleship, a cruiser, a destroyer, and a 5,500-ton freighter, none of which was confirmed in the postwar accounting.
The Mediterranean U-boats went on to achieve several notable victories in December. The top honors went to two veterans, U-565, commanded by Wilhelm Franken, and U-562, commanded by Horst Hamm. Franken sank the 1,500-ton British destroyer Partridge and damaged the 16,300-ton British troopship Cameronia. The latter, sailing in convoy KMF 5, was polished off by the Luftwaffe. Hamm in U-562 sank the 23,700-ton troopship Strathallan, the newest prewar Pacific and Orient liner, also sailing in convoy KMF 5. There were five thousand troops on board Strathallan, but the ship sank slowly and the loss of life, the official Admiralty historian wrote, was “small.” Two newly arrived boats also had successes: U-602, commanded by thirty-one-year-old Philipp Schuler, sank the 1,500-ton British destroyer Porcupine; U-443, commanded by Konstantin von Puttkamer, sank the 1,000-ton British Hunt-class destroyer Blean.*
The usual overclaims continued, notably those of Albrecht Brandi in U-617. He reported sinking four ships, including a 1,500-ton destroyer, and damage to two 7,000-ton freighters. His confirmed bag was only one 1,000-ton British fleet tug, St. Issey, sunk. Jürgen Könenkamp in U-375 claimed sinking a 10,000-ton London-class cruiser, but only damage to the 2,650-ton cruiser/minelayer Manxman was confirmed. Von Puttkamer claimed sinking a 6,000-ton freighter, which proved to be the 1,600-ton British Edencrag.
AMERICAN B-24 ASW SQUADRONS DEPLOY FOR TORCH
Chafing under the restrictions imposed upon it, in September 1942, the U.S. Army Air Forces bluntly and officially informed the Navy’s commander in chief, Admiral King, that the fragmentation of ASW aircraft by sea frontiers was not the best way to fight U-boats.† Therefore, it intended to reorganize planes of the First Bomber Command engaged in ASW into a single autonomous unit known as the First Antisubmarine Army Air Command. The command was to be controlled from Washington so that it could be promptly dispatched
to areas of heavy enemy submarine activity wherever it might occur. In keeping with the earlier Army-Navy agreement, the paper declared disingenuously, the ASW aircraft “naturally will be under the operational control of the sea frontier concerned.”
Choosing to ignore the obvious implication that the establishment of this command was the first step in an Army Air Forces bid to regain operational control of all land-based aircraft engaged in ASW, King did not object to the formation of the centralized command. However, he stressed that he still believed the “preferable method” of employing aircraft versus U-boats was the more or less permanent allocation of ASW aircraft to individual sea frontiers. In any case, King wrote, he would continue to exercise operational control over Army Air Forces planes through the various sea frontiers.
Henry H. (Hap) Arnold, the commander of the U.S. Army Air Forces, (USAAF), officially activated the Army Air Forces antisubmarine unit on October 15,1942. Commanded by Westside T. Larson, it drew its cadres from First Bomber Command. Relieved of any further responsibility for strategic bombing, its singular mission was to attack hostile submarines “wherever they may be operating in opposition to our war effort.” Its principal combat aircraft were to be the long-range B-24 Liberator and the medium-range B-25 Mitchell, both equipped with centimetric-wavelength radar and shallow-fused depth charges. It initiated combat in its new status on the United States East Coast and in the Gulf of Mexico with the 25th and 26th Wings, cooperatively merging operation rooms with those of the Navy in New York and Miami, respectively. Apparently unknown to Admiral King, Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson and Army Chief of Staff George C. Marshall approved an important provision in its charter, specifying that its elements could be transferred “to extracontinental areas on a detached service basis.” That is, its units could be sent overseas to fight U-boats.
The upshot of this action by the Army Air Forces was the creation of two separate and distinct ASW air commands, the one controlled by the Navy through the sea frontiers and the other controlled by the Army Air Forces. The former primarily escorted convoys, the latter primarily patrolled offensively and secondarily escorted convoys. The official Air Force historian wrote that this arrangement was so loose that it
left undefined the nature and extent of the operational control to be exercised by the Navy; and it left untouched the problem of duplication, the parallel development of two land-based air forces for the same task. Consequently, within this undefined area there remained ample room for continued debate and confusion, especially in view of the fact that differences also remained concerning the most effective way of employing long-range land-based aircraft in the antisubmarine campaign.
At the time of Torch, the Antisubmarine Command consisted of eighteen squadrons operating about two hundred aircraft, all based in the United States, the Caribbean, or Newfoundland. In eleven months of ASW patrolling, these aircraft had positively sunk three U-boats unassisted (U-512, U-654, U-701) and had shared credit with the U.S. Navy destroyer Lansdowne for another (U-153), and had wrecked the U-505, forcing her to abort a Caribbean patrol.
For Torch backup, Marshall directed Arnold to prepare to deploy to Morocco two ASW squadrons equipped with long-range B-24 Liberators. These big land-based aircraft were to fly hunter-killer missions and provide air cover for the ail-American convoys UGS and GUS in the waters of the Azores-Madeira-Gibraltar triangle.
This little-known ASW deployment has been described recently by the historian Max Schoenfeld.* In its initial stages, it was not a model of perfection.
Everything was done in a frenetic rush. The aircrews picked up the B-24s as they came off the factory production lines. They then flew them to Wright-Patterson Field in Dayton, Ohio, for installation of centimetric-wavelength ASV radar (SCR-517C) and other gear. They then flew onward to Langley Field, Virginia (near Norfolk), to stage for overseas deployment. In all, there were twenty-one B-24s, nine in the 1st ASW Squadron, commanded by Jack Roberts, and twelve in the 2nd ASW Squadron, commanded by Wilkie A. Rambo.
Westside Larson directed Roberts and Rambo to cross the Atlantic to North Africa via the “northern route”: Newfoundland-Iceland-England-Morocco. The nine aircraft of Roberts’s 1st ASW Squadron went first, assembling at the airfield in Gander, Newfoundland, from which the first three planes left on November 6. Despite hideous weather and other obstacles, all three arrived safely at a British airfield in the Hebrides, then flew on to another British airfield in southwest England, St. Eval.
Meanwhile, Prime Minister Churchill prevailed upon President Roosevelt to delay the deployment to Morocco of these two American squadrons in order to temporarily reinforce Coastal Command ASW operations with these twenty-one radar-equipped B-24s. In the interim, the five British ASW squadrons at Gibraltar and in North Africa* and U.S. Navy Catalina squadrons arriving in Morocco would provide the American UGS and GUS convoys with air cover.
The airfield at St. Eval was jammed. Coastal Command’s Squadron 502, which based there, was in the process of reequipping from Whitleys to four-engine Halifaxes. Bomber Command’s Operational Training Unit 10, which also based there, flew Whitleys on ASW missions before graduating the crews to frontline bomber units. In addition, Spitfires of British Photo Squadron 543, as well as other miscellaneous aircraft, were based at St. Eval.
Inasmuch as the diversion of the two American ASW squadrons to St. Eval had been hastily arranged, there was no American infrastructure. The American crews had to be billeted off-base, an inconvenient arrangement. They ate at the British mess, which they found “unbelievably bad,” being oversupplied as it was with cabbage, brussels sprouts, and cauliflower. The England-based American Eighth Air Force had to lend the ASW squadrons mechanics and other ground personnel, pending the arrival of their own.
Nonetheless, on November 16—nine days after reaching St, Eval—Army Air Forces pilot Isaac J. Haviland flew the first American B-24 ASW mission over the Bay of Biscay.
Delayed by bad weather, the other six B-24s of ASW Squadron 1 finally got away from Newfoundland on November 23. These six ran into severe turbulence and icing conditions. Only two made it across the Atlantic. Three were forced back, and one disappeared without a trace. The two that reached Europe arrived at St. Eval on November 27, bringing the American ASW B-24 force to five. The other three B-24s of the squadron followed the Catalinas of the Navy’s Squadron VP 92, going by way of the longer but friendlier skies of the “southern route”: Florida-Trinidad-Brazil-Ascension Island-Accra-Morocco-England. One of the three was delayed in Morocco for want of a spare tire and did not reach St. Eval until January 5, 1943, two months after the first B-24s staged from Langley Field.
Based on the erratic experience of ASW Squadron 1, the dozen B-24s of Rambo’s ASW Squadron 2 left Langley by the “southern route”: December 10 to 24. After a stop in Trinidad, one plane disappeared, but the other eleven eventually reached St. Eval in January 1943. The ground personnel crossed the Atlantic on the Queen Elizabeth from New York to the Firth of Clyde, arriving on January 12. ASW Squadron 2 flew its first ASW mission on January 16, 1943.*
At the suggestion of Jack Roberts, on January 15 the two USAAF ASW squadrons at St. Eval were consolidated under his command. This single unit was designated the 1st Antisubmarine Group (Provisional), a detached unit of the 25th Antisubmarine Wing of the Army Air Forces Antisubmarine Command.† Alfred J. Hanlon, Jr., replaced Roberts as commander of Squadron 1; Isaac Haviland replaced Rambo as commander of Squadron 2. Rambo moved up to serve as Roberts’s engineering and supply officer.
The somewhat tattered arrival of these two American squadrons raised the number of B-24s in ASW squadrons controlled by Coastal Command in January 1943 to almost fifty: twenty-four in British Squadrons 120 and 224, and ultimately twenty-four in USAAF Squadrons 1 and 2. In addition, at this time Coastal Command had twenty-four B-17 Flying Fortresses in British Squadrons 206 and 220 and twenty-four Halifaxes in British Squadrons 405 (on loan from Bomber Command) and 502, all told about ninety-six f
our-engine heavy-bomber types. These long-range and very-long-range land-based bombers significantly increased the offshore offensive and defensive capabilities of Coastal Command.
FURTHER U-BOAT DIVERSIONS TO ATTACK TORCH FORCES
At the time of the Torch landings, there were ninety-six German U-boats of the Atlantic force at sea, including three U-tankers. Fifty-one boats were operating to the north of the Bay of Biscay, forty-five to the south. Forty in the north were at or going to and from attack areas on the North Atlantic convoy run, four were in Canadian waters, one was planting a minefield off New York harbor, two were bound for the Mediterranean, and four new boats were outbound from Germany. Five in the south were bound for the Mediterranean. The other forty were at or in transit to or from attack areas off the coasts of Iberia, the Azores, West Africa, Trinidad, and South America.
In addition to the seven boats already on transfer to the Mediterranean in response to the urgent demands of Berlin, Dönitz rushed twenty-five more Atlantic boats to the Atlantic waters immediately west of the Strait of Gibraltar and Morocco. This brought the number of Atlantic U-boats reassigned to attack Torch forces to thirty-two, or about one-third of all the boats of that force at sea on November 8.
Of the twenty-five boats that rushed to the Strait of Gibraltar-Morocco area, thirteen were recently sailed boats assigned to the North Atlantic convoy run, nine were recently sailed boats operating in areas south of Biscay, and three were boats that had sailed from French bases on November 7. Six of the twenty-five were on maiden patrols from Germany; three were veteran boats from France with new skippers.
Inasmuch as thirteen of the remaining forty-one boats patrolling the North Atlantic run were low on fuel or torpedoes and were compelled to return to France by about November 20, the withdrawal of the thirteen boats newly assigned to that area to attack Torch forces crippled the U-boat war in the North Atlantic. Not counting the four new boats still outbound from Germany, Dönitz was left with only ten boats (two IXs, eight VIIs) to carry on the North Atlantic convoy war, the campaign he had deemed “decisive.” Three of the VIIs (U-454, U-606, U-624) had first to refuel from the homebound U-117, a Type XB minelayer temporarily serving as a tanker. On November 9, another VII, U-704, commanded by Horst Kessler, diverted to chase the giant ocean liner Queen Elizabeth, westbound at high speed. Kessler got close enough to fire four torpedoes at the liner,* but soon thereafter he reported that he was forced to abort to France, owing to the severe illness of a crewman. The departure of U-704 on November 11 left merely nine U-boats to carry on the U-boat war on the North Atlantic run, three of them temporarily out of action to refuel. Of this drastically depleted campaign, more later.