Operation Neptune

Home > Other > Operation Neptune > Page 31
Operation Neptune Page 31

by Kenneth Edwards


  There was also high good humour in the SSEF. It had its own newspaper—a 16-page journal issued monthly at a price of threepence, which combined accounts of actions with humour of a high standard. That news-sheet was aptly called Look Out. Even one of the LCF’s had its own newspaper, a threepenny monthly on ten pages called Splash. One marvels that men of whom so much was demanded and who were so short of sleep could bring themselves to produce newspapers in such free time as they had. They lived dangerously all the time. On one Sunday Commander Sellar was conducting Divine Service on board one of his craft when there was a sudden whistle and a German shell scored a near miss off the stern—just as Commander Sellar had read the words “fear not, be of good courage.” His subsequent remark in his official report was that “A near miss from a shell lent some point to the lesson.” At the time, being unaware of the ecclesiastical “drill” for such an occasion, he continued to read, and not one of the men fallen in on the deck moved.

  It was on the nights of 5-6 and 7-8 July that the Germans launched their first attacks with human torpedoes. Their attacks came somewhat as a surprise and they succeeded in inflicting fairly heavy casualties. It was estimated that twenty-seven of these weapons were launched on the night of 5-6 July; of these only four were destroyed for certain, and two British minesweepers were sunk.

  Two nights later, on that of 7-8 July, came the second attack. It was estimated that thirty-one human torpedoes were launched for this attack, and that twelve of them were certainly destroyed with three “probables” and seven “possibles.” Some of these losses were due to Fleet Air Arm Seafires and to Spitfires of the Royal Air Force. Our losses through this agency on that night was one minesweeper sunk, while the old light-cruiser Dragon was hit and seriously damaged. This cruiser had been turned over to the Polish Navy, but was serving under her old name. The damage which she sustained was so serious that it was considered not worthwhile to try to get her back to England for repair and she was sunk as an additional blockship in the line which formed the breakwater of No. 5 “Gooseberry” shelter harbour off SWORD beach.

  HMS Orestes particularly distinguished herself during this attack, destroying no less than four of the human torpedoes. Her log for the latter part of the action reads as follows:

  0652—engaged human torpedo. Pilot seen to be hit.

  0707—engaged human torpedo. Pilot seen to be killed or severely wounded.

  0718—engaged human torpedo. Pilot seen to be killed or severely wounded.

  0737—engaged human torpedo. Pilot seen in water and picked up.

  Rear-Admiral Rivett-Carnac, commanding the British Assault Area, made the following signal after the action to all ships in the area:

  “The valuable work of ships and craft employed in the Defence Lines is reflected in the action taken by HMS Orestes and several vessels and craft of the ‘Trout Line,’ whose vigilance and initiative contributed largely to the frustration of the concerted human torpedo attacks made recently on our anchorage.”

  Despite the unexpected nature of the attack and the casualties suffered, Commander Sellar was able to say in his report of these attacks that: “The phlegm with which this new weapon was seen, reported, met and dealt with was very noticeable.”

  On 9 July came the first report of sighting a midget submarine, as opposed to a human torpedo, but these craft never proved a menace off the Normandy beaches.

  The so-called “human torpedo” was known by the Germans as the “mother and baby.” It consisted of two components. The upper component, which normally travelled awash at a speed of 5-6 knots, was the shell of an old torpedo from which the bulkheads had been removed. In the centre of this upper component was a cockpit with a transparent perspex dome. The pilot of the craft sat in the cockpit, protected by the dome and controlling the entire weapon. In addition to joy-stick-like control, he had an appliance which released the lower component and set it going under its own power. This lower component was, in its essentials, an ordinary torpedo.

  The Germans had already produced other special weapons off the British Assault Area. All of these were ingenious and most of them were highly dangerous. The German is an excellent toy-maker, but when he turns this flair to the production of infernal machines he is a menace rather than a joke. All manner of reports of extraordinary-looking objects were reported in the SSEF area at one time or another—so much so that senior officers remote from that troubled sector were apt to consider that the imagination of those manning the “Trout Line” was almost equal to their keenness. Yet most of these apparitions actually existed, and the majority were dangerous, although some were harmless and apparently used as decoys. Among the latter were dummy human torpedo domes with the head and shoulders of a man painted inside. These were apparently dropped to confuse the defence and draw their fire while the real human torpedoes hoped to creep through the patrol lines.

  One of the most dangerous of the German devices was a very long range circling torpedo. This weapon was about 8 feet long and rather less than 2 feet in diameter. It had a speed of between 6 and 9 knots and could travel at this speed for up to ten hours. Moreover, its mechanism could be so adjusted that, after it had run straight for the distance required to take it into the anchorage it would start to run in circles as if in search of a victim; and if it “ran down” without hitting a ship it became a very lethal form of mine. These “circling torpedoes” were electric and left virtually no wake so that they were almost impossible to see. It was considered that the damage to the cruiser Frobisher and the repair ship Albatross, classed as “underwater explosions,” as well as the destroyers Vestal and Iddesleigh were due to these “circling torpedoes.”

  On the night of 2-3 August the Germans attacked with yet another unorthodox weapon. This was the explosive motor boat. At the time virtually nothing was known of these craft, but gradually a fairly comprehensive idea of their characteristics and capabilities was built up from observation, the interrogation of prisoners, and from the gallantry of a Lieutenant RNVR who boarded one of them and was able to make a brief but invaluable inspection of the craft. These explosive motor boats were, about 16 feet long with a beam of about 6 feet and 2 feet freeboard, and could be driven at between 25 and 30 knots by their two Ford V8 engines. All round the bows there was a spring “bumper” which acted as the “trigger” to detonate an explosive charge of about 250 lbs. carried in the nose of the craft. Some of these explosive motor boats detonated as soon as they touched a ship. Others appeared to have a delay action fuse, for they sank after hitting their target to a depth of 16 or 17 feet and exploded under water. For some time after their appearance it was thought that, although piloted, they were to some extent radio controlled by a “master” boat. This was established as untrue, although there certainly was a “master” boat, which apparently controlled two or three others of a group by a system of simple signalling by red and green lights which could only be seen from astern. These craft were also fitted with an arrangement for their self-destruction in order to prevent them from falling into our hands intact.

  The determined and concerted attack delivered by the Germans against the eastern flank of the British Assault Area on the night of 2-3 August did not come as a surprise. Nor, thanks to good intelligence, was the German use of some form of explosive boats altogether unexpected.

  As a result of the experience gained in the previous attacks it seemed probable that further attacks were to be expected when conditions of full moon coincided with a west-going tidal stream. On this basis the night of 1 August seemed to be the best for the next series of attacks, but on that night nothing happened. On the next night, however, a lot happened.

  At two o’clock on the morning of 3 August the old light cruiser Durban, which had been scuttled to form the easternmost of the blockships forming the breakwater of No. 5 “Gooseberry” shelter harbour, was torpedoed. About fifty minutes later the “Hunt” class destroyer Quorn, on patrol to the northward, was torpedoed and later sank. Ten minutes later an L
CG (Landing Craft, Gun) and a motor launch at the northern end of the “Trout Line” engaged a human torpedo, but without definite results. Nine minutes later, at 3.10 a.m., HMS Duff was narrowly missed by a torpedo, and at 3.25 a.m. the minesweeping trawler Gairsay was torpedoed and sank.

  Things were not going well. All this activity was taking place at the extreme northern limit of the “Trout Line,” and was apparently due to human torpedoes. It seemed that these having failed to get through the “Trout Line” on their direct approach to the anchorage on their last attack, were this time trying to skirt the northern end of the “Trout Line” and so work round into the anchorage.

  At 3.50 a.m., however, the picture suddenly changed, and it then appeared that the human torpedo attack to the northward was in the nature of a feint designed to cause gaps in the centre of the “Trout Line” or divert the attention of the ships in this line so that the main attack would have a better chance of breaking through into the anchorage.

  At 3.50 a.m. an aircraft dropped a red and green flare to the eastward of the “Trout Line.” This was obviously a mark and the signal for the main attack to be launched. At 4 a.m. an explosive motor boat was sunk in the Trout Line by an LCG (Landing Craft, Gun). This was the first appearance of one of these weapons. For the next two and a quarter hours successive waves of explosive motor boats attacked and tried to break through the Trout Line. As Commander Sellar said in his report: “A furious battle was waged. When the enemy retired he left 32 explosive motor boats certainly sunk, two probably sunk and one possibly sunk. The Trout Line had lost only one craft—LCG 764, which had sunk one explosive motor boat before being hit by two others. Any explosive motor boats that managed to penetrate the Trout Line were set on and destroyed by the motor launches.”

  One group of these explosive motor boats tried to work round the northern end of the Trout Line, but they were intercepted by HMS Gateshead and ML 185 and four were immediately sunk.

  Just after the attack with explosive motor boats developed, some E-boats came into action with our light coastal forces to the eastward. This was apparently a diversion, but it proved an expensive one for the Germans for, without achieving anything, they lost one E-boat sunk and had a second seriously damaged. Our light coastal forces also probably destroyed one explosive motor boat to the eastward of the Trout Line. A group of four other motor torpedo boats—Nos. 252, 253, 257 and 250—which had been sheltering in the “Gooseberry” harbour, were ordered out in support and they did magnificent work in sinking five human torpedoes and taking all five of their pilots prisoner.

  The human torpedoes held off during the main attack by explosive motor boats. Then they started attacking, at 6.10 a.m., and kept up their attacks until 7.30 a.m.—an action which cost the Germans twenty-one human torpedoes certainly destroyed, three probably destroyed, and a further eleven “possibles.”

  The Germans had suffered a most discouraging and costly defeat, which must seriously have shaken their confidence in their new weapons. Commander Sellar reported on this action: “It is considered that the results of what is believed to be the first major attack on an anchorage with these weapons must be somewhat depressing to the enemy and reflects satisfactorily on the vigilance and efficiency of the defenders. It is true, however, that we are becoming used to novel forms and shapes which behave in a whimsical, though dangerous, manner.”

  The explosive motor boats were promptly christened “Weasels” by those who had destroyed so many of these vicious vermin. An interesting point came to light as a result of the interrogation of prisoners taken from these craft. The men who manned them had apparently been told that their main function was to act as rescue boats for the pilots of the human torpedoes, but that they were to attack any ship if they saw one. Perhaps this was a bit of propaganda designed to induce them to try to get through the Trout Line.

  There were three attempts on that night to capture “samples” of the German weapons so that they could be examined in order to determine their weak points and help in the task of producing the best antidote to them. The “Hunt” class destroyer Blencathra captured a human torpedo intact, but the self-destruction charge blew it to pieces just as it was being hoisted on board.

  The other two attempts at capture were concerned with explosive motor boats, and both were characterised by great gallantry and devotion to duty.

  In one case Lieutenant J. P. Fullarton, commanding ML 131, manoeuvred his craft alongside an abandoned explosive motor boat and remained there while a tow was passed, despite the fact that the whirring sound of the self-destruction device could be plainly heard. The explosive motor boat was successfully taken in tow, but unfortunately she blew up about ten minutes later while still in tow.

  Lieutenant S. N. Orum, DSC, RNVR, who was afterwards to lose his life in the attack on Walcheren, was the flotilla officer of the 331st LCF (Landing Craft, Flak) Flotilla, but he had embarked for the night in ML 146. Lieutenant Orum saw ML 131 taking the necessary action to tow her abandoned explosive motor boat; then he saw another abandoned explosive motor boat and determined to secure it. It was just dawn when Lieutenant Orum and Sub-Lieutenant I. C. S. Inglis, the First Lieutenant of ML 146, put off from the motor launch in a Carley Raft and paddled to the explosive motor boat. While Sub-Lieutenant lnglis held on to the explosive motor boat and kept the Carley raft in position, Lieutenant Orum made fast a tow to her rudder, deeming it advisable to tow the craft stern first. The two officers regained the motor launch, which began to tow, but the tow parted after ten minutes. Lieutenant Orum and Sub-Lieutenant Inglis set out and passed the tow again. This time Lieutenant Orum shackled a wire strop to a small ringbolt on the after part of the craft. In order to do this he had to board the explosive motor boat, and, in addition to securing the tow he carried out a brief examination of the craft, his account of which was subsequently to prove of great value.

  This time, soon after the motor launch had begun to tow, the ringbolt tore out of the explosive motor boat. What was worse, with the ringbolt came a section of her after planking so that the water rushed in and the stern of the explosive motor boat was under water in a minute or two. Seeing this Lieutenant Orum went overboard and attempted to save the craft by passing a tow line through the spring-buffer rail round the explosive motor boat’s bows, which, it should be remembered, acted as the “trigger” for the explosive charges in these craft. He was, however, unsuccessful, and the explosive motor boat sank.

  On the night of 9-10 August the Germans tried again. It was not so determined or so varied an attack, but it cost the enemy an even higher percentage of loss. It was estimated that the Germans sent just over thirty explosive motor boats on this attack. Of these twenty-nine were certainly sunk, while one “probable” was also claimed, and six prisoners were taken, while there were no casualties to our forces. The Germans showed a very definite reluctance to face the fire of the craft on the Trout Line, and had obviously not recovered from the hammering they had received a week earlier.

  On this occasion also the Germans failed to achieve surprise. It was a calm, fine night with a nearly full moon, and in the hours before the attack there had been some sporadic shelling of the No. 5 “Gooseberry” shelter harbour, which had proved to be more of a nuisance than a menace. Shortly after 11.30 p.m. on that night a light was seen to the eastward of the Trout Line, and all craft were promptly warned to be “on their toes.”

  The attack did not materialise until after 3.30 a.m., but then it led to about an hour and a half of furious activity. As an example of this activity one cannot do better than quote the log of LCF (Landing Craft, Flak) 1, remembering that she was but one of many craft engaged. That log reads:

  03.35—Weasel engaged and sunk by starboard after Oerlikon.

  03.45—Weasel engaged and sunk by No. 1 4-inch.

  04.00—Weasel engaged and sunk by No. 2 4-inch.

  04.10—Weasel damaged and stopped. Probably sunk by Oerlikon fire.

  04.35—Weasel engaged by Oerlikon assi
sted by ML 195 and sunk.

  05.05-Cease fire.

  During the apparent pauses between these quick actions the crew of LCF 1 were far from idle. Not only did the circumstances demand the utmost and continued vigilance, but they were firing star shell all the time, for it was one of the duties of the Landing Craft, Flak, to illuminate the area to the eastward of the Trout Line during an attack in order to show up the explosive motor boats and the domes of the human torpedoes.

  The report of Motor Torpedo Boat 714 is even more eloquent of a period crowded with incident. It reads: “The first was sighted to starboard and engaged by gunfire at 03.49 and was seen to blow up. The second was engaged to port and left on fire and well alight. The third was engaged to starboard and was seen to blow up after being on fire for a few seconds. The fourth was closed for some three to four minutes at full speed. This one was set on fire and blew up. The engagements lasted until 04.18. The ranges on firing varied between 50 and 200 yards. No survivors were picked up.”

  In the whole of this attack only one explosive motor boat penetrated the Trout Line, and this one was promptly chased by a motor launch and suitably dealt with.

  As an example of a report by a commander who appreciates that those under his command have established a decisive moral ascendancy over the enemy it would be hard to equal Commander Sellar’s report on these actions, the final paragraph of which reads as follows:

  “These attacks have been much appreciated by the Trout Line, particularly by the LCF’s who nowadays have so little opportunity of showing their skill.” (This was because there was at that time a ban on shooting at aircraft.) “It is considered that this attack was detected, met and defeated in a confident and satisfactory manner. Although we were still in a position to field our experienced First Eleven against an indifferent Second Eleven, our bowling was excellent, and for the second time the supports, acting as longstop, had nothing to do.”

 

‹ Prev