by Shaun Lewis
‘Control room, Captain. Is the First Lieutenant there?’
‘First Lieutenant here, sir,’ Steele replied.
‘I plan on staying on the surface for another fifty minutes or so. If the stove is still hot, it might be worth setting up an early breakfast before we shut down the diesels. The next chance of a hot meal might not be until tomorrow.’
‘I already have it in hand, sir. Mustard or tomato sauce on your bacon sandwich, sir?’
Richard was impressed with Steele’s initiative. ‘You’re spoiling me, First Lieutenant. I’ll have both with a banger and a big mug of char. You’d better send something up for the Third Hand and lookouts too. I don’t feel I should dine alone this morning and you know what a gannet the Navigator is.’ He smiled in response to the bridge crew’s grins of anticipation.
‘Aye aye, sir. Chef reckons he’ll have it all ready in ten minutes.’
Replete from his middle-watch snack, Richard checked their position again on O’Connell’s chart. They were now heading north-east, off the Suan Dere river to the north. For some minutes he and the bridge crew felt they had been illuminated by the searchlights at the approaches to the Narrows some five miles distant. Then, since the regular sweep had not wavered, they had assumed that they had escaped detection so far. Even so, Richard felt he had already stretched his luck too far. Moreover, it was becoming lighter to starboard and he feared being silhouetted against the Asian coast to watchers on the European side. After arranging for the bridge to be cleared, he ordered the engines to be stopped, clutches out and the submarine’s ship’s company to Diving Stations. The next time they surfaced would be in the Strait.
E9 proceeded under the surface at a depth of ninety feet and speed of three knots. The whole crew knew they were very close to the first of the mine fields, but hoped they would pass under them at this depth. Just as they dared hope they were through safely, everyone heard the clanking and rasping of a wire passing down the port side of the hull.
Alert to the danger, Richard ordered both engines to be stopped. Without even the hum of the electric motors, the silence was eerie as every man held his breath listening to the terrible noise outside the hull. Two of the sailors crossed themselves unconsciously. Richard was very conscious that if they snagged the wire on any protrusion from E9, it would drag on top of them one of the sinister, spiny mines tethered above. If just one of the horns of the mine acting as a detonator hit the hull sufficiently hard, then it would be all over.
He held his breath, too. The last time he had heard such a terrible sound, he had been in D2 on the bottom of the North Sea. Then the noise had led to his salvation. He prayed silently and listened for signs that the wire was moving aft. When he judged the wire to have passed the control room he ordered, ‘Hard a-port. Slow ahead starboard.’
He aimed to avoid fouling the port propeller on the mine. For over ten minutes he and E9 played this dreadful cat and mouse game with numerous mines, but at last the only noise was that of the motors and hydroplanes. They had scraped through safely – this time!
Although the danger of further minefields could not be ignored, his concern now was navigation as it was an hour since they had obtained their last fix. He ordered Diving Stations prior to ordering the submarine back to periscope depth. The evolution did not prove simple.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but we seem to be stuck at sixty feet,’ Steele reported. ‘The ’planes are full to rise, but it makes no difference.’
Richard thought this was odd as on diving E9 had caught a perfect trim.
‘I’ll pump out the auxiliary tank, but may I increase speed, sir?’ Steele requested.
‘Just a minute, Number One. I think I know what’s wrong. It’s not something I have ever experienced, but other COs have mentioned it. It’s the mixture of fresh and salt water that’s the root of this.’
‘I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t follow.’
‘Don’t worry, Number One. I should have thought of it earlier. Several rivers cascade fresh water into this Strait on its path to the Aegean. The water is heated by day and this makes it even less dense. However, the outgoing fresh water in the Strait is being continually replaced by colder, denser salt water from the Aegean. This colder water runs deeper and the boundary between the different density waters is acting like a physical barrier for us.’
‘Gosh, I think you have something there, sir. Indeed, it explains a queer story I read a couple of weeks back, when I was looking into the history of the region.’
‘You’ve been studying the local history, First Lieutenant?’
‘Why, of course, sir. I thought it might come in handy somehow.’
‘So what’s this story then?’
‘Apparently, a few hundred years ago, a member of the Sultan’s entourage became rather over familiar with one of the harem, if you follow my meaning. So the Sultan had the man bound and tied in a weighted sack. He was duly dumped in the Strait, but to everyone’s surprise the body appeared twelve miles upstream and not downstream as would have been expected.’
‘I ’eard that story, too, mate,’ the periscope assistant muttered to his ‘oppo’ on the plot. ‘His name was Mustapha Fuk.’ The two sailors’ raucous laughing was cut short by O’Connell. Richard winced, but ignored them.
‘And you deduce that this would be on account of a deep current flowing into the Strait from the Aegean, counter to the flow of the outgoing surface water then, Number One?’
‘Well it is only a legend, sir, but it might fit the facts.’
‘Possibly and it is something we will have to bear in mind. The only charts available don’t give any information on a deeper current, but if you are right, then we might find it aids our passage up the Strait when dived. You’ll have to take that into account, Pilot.’
Richard thought over all that had been said for a few minutes. He concluded that he would have to increase speed, thereby wasting valuable battery power, pump out water from the compensating tanks and increase the angle of ascent. He briefed Steele and the two hydroplane operators on the problem.
‘First Lieutenant, the trick here is to penetrate the layer, but not to bob to the surface like a cork afterwards. Before we make the ascent, I want you to pump out the auxiliary tank. Keep a note of how much you pump out. When I give the order for full ahead, I want full rise on the hydroplanes to achieve a twenty-up angle and, as soon as we gain momentum, flood the auxiliary tank like mad with the same number of gallons you pumped out. I’ll reduce speed and you’ll need to reverse the ’planes to avoid surfacing. I want to settle at thirty feet. I need this to be right first time. If we go up too quickly, we will surface and give away our presence. On the other hand, if we are too cautious, then we’ll be stuck beneath the layer and have wasted valuable amps. Is that clear?’ The three men confirmed they understood what was required.
‘Right then, First Lieutenant. Start pumping.’
Richard certainly found the next few minutes were exciting, and probably for all concerned. Having made the boat deliberately light, increased the speed to seven knots and put the hydroplanes hard a-rise, E9 took on a very steep angle as she was driven to the surface. At fifty-five feet, the boat started to increase her rate of ascent and Steele, correctly assuming the boat was penetrating the layer, started to flood the auxiliary tank to regain the original trim. Richard ordered slow ahead and a reduction in the angle on the hydroplanes, but even so the submarine started rocketing to the surface. Feeling sure that he had overcooked the speed and dreading the boat would surface, he immediately despatched three members of the crew to run from the after part of the submarine to the bows, in order to take off some of the angle. Even so, the boat did not level out until twenty-five feet, a depth at which the top of the fin just broached the surface. Once back at thirty feet and Steele had satisfied himself that the boat was back in trim, Richard ordered the periscope to be raised very gingerly.
He looked through the periscope and was amazed to discover that they were furthe
r up the Strait than they had predicted. It suggested that Steele had been right about an underwater current, or at the very least, the strength of the current at depth was much less than that predicted at the surface. Kephez Point lay behind to starboard and they were only about a mile short of the Narrows between Chanak and Kilid Bahr. He did not take the time to reflect on it as the sea was like glass and he feared the feather of his periscope in the rapidly increasing light would give away their presence. He lowered the periscope and briefed O’Connell on his discovery.
He now considered his dilemma. They were about to enter the narrowest part of the Strait and the only way of fixing the submarine’s position was by eye through the periscope. However, he feared raising the periscope in the approaching daylight in view of the mill pond conditions just where the Turkish defences were most concentrated. After a discussion with O’Connell and Steele, he decided to pass through the gap at a depth of fifty feet as close to Kilid Bahr as possible. Naturally, there was a risk of grounding, but they would have plenty of water above them to avoid being stranded. He only hoped that if they did show themselves above the surface, then the gunners’ concentration would be at its lowest after a long night watch.
Creeping forward slowly on a north-easterly course E9 touched bottom on three occasions. At each grounding, Richard altered course to starboard on a more easterly course and soon it became obvious that they had rounded the point. He altered course to north to set up E9 for the sharp right hand turn to pass Nagara Point. If they could just get past this point, then the navigation would be easier, as the Strait opened out to two miles wide. He ordered a check of the electrolyte in the battery cells and was pleased to hear that they might have sufficient power to avoid a surface charge before clearing the Strait. Notwithstanding, he still had to weather Nagara Point and that meant raising the periscope for a fix before the turn to starboard. It was essential to keep well away from the shoal at the end of the point.
He raised the periscope a few inches above the surface after increasing speed slightly to give the two coxswains on the hydroplanes an easier task of maintaining the depth. The men had now been at Diving Stations for over two hours and he was glad Steele had managed to borrow two extra coxswains to share the toil on the hydroplanes. The work was not only physically demanding to rotate the brass wheels operating the hydroplanes, but required enormous concentration. One mistake could cost the lives of every man on board. It was not easy on the periscope either. The E-class boats were fitted with two periscopes. The search periscope was binocular, affording better vision, but offered too great a profile above the surface. The attack periscope was monocular and much thinner. To avoid raising the mast too far above the surface, Richard was operating it on his haunches in a similar posture adopted by the Cossacks in their famous dances. He found it very uncomfortable and tiring.
Surveying the Strait through his round window on the world, he noted with satisfaction that E9 was just about where they had estimated she should be by dead reckoning, testament to O’Connell’s skill as a navigator. They were almost at the wheel over point to head east. On both the European shores to the north and west, and the Asian coast to the east and south, the great searchlights were making their regular sweeps, but now the sun was beginning to rise. As he was about to order the periscope to be lowered, something caught his eye to the south.
‘Smoke, bearing that,’ he called. ‘Green one-five-zero, 160 degrees,’ responded the periscope assistant. ‘Down,’ Richard ordered and the periscope was gently lowered back into its well.
‘All positions, there are at least three warships to the south at a range of about two miles, following us up the Strait,’ he announced to everyone in the control room. ‘One of them is most certainly something big, at least a cruiser and possibly a battleship. I couldn’t see clearly because they were in the shadow of the coast. I’ll have a better look once we are settled on our new course to pass Nagara Point. If we’re lucky, I can use both the bow and beam tubes to get a shot at her and then run like the blazes to clear Nagara Point before they can counter attack. Tell the TI that I want the settings on the bow torpedoes changed to run deep for the heavy.’
The torpedo compartment suddenly became a hive of activity. Under the supervision of the senior torpedoman, known as the Torpedo Instructor or TI, the fore-ends’ crew opened each bow tube, withdrew each torpedo using chain slings to take the massive weight, reset the depth setting and swung the torpedo back into its tube, before shutting the inner door. It was a physically demanding task, but the crew were well practiced after the numerous drills Richard and Steele had put them through. At last the tubes were reloaded and flooded ready for the impending attack. Meanwhile, E9 was on her new course at thirty feet.
Richard took a second look through the periscope.
‘Pilot, there are two battleships moving up the Strait in the company of four destroyers. They’re both Brandenburg-class. What does that make them?’
O’Connell quickly scanned the details of the potential targets pasted to the control room bulkhead. ‘They must be the Turgut Reiss and the Heirreddin Barbarossa, both bought from the German Navy in 1910, sir.’
Richard took one last bearing of the main body before lowering the periscope. He closed his eyes and conducted some rapid mental arithmetic. E9 was now ideally placed to fire, but he would have to alter course to starboard to bring the bow tubes into action. Unfortunately, once he made this course alteration he would be head on with the approaching enemy ships. The ‘bows-on’ aspect of the ships would present only a minimal target for a ‘down the throat’ shot. He judged that he would have to fire at close range to offer a better chance of a hit.
When he estimated the main body was 2000 yards distant, he ordered a new course of 180. As the submarine settled on its new course, he raised the attack periscope. Within seconds of raising the periscope, he realised that they had been spotted from ashore as the surrounding water was peppered with the splashes of falling shells. Clearly the gunners were alert after all. Perhaps the anticipation of breakfast had improved their concentration. Immediately the leading destroyer, about 1200 yards distant, altered course towards the periscope and the crew could hear the steady throb of the propellers increasing speed. The nearer of the two battleships was now at a range of 1600 yards, within firing range, but far enough away to have time to alter course to avoid oncoming torpedo tracks. He reacted quickly and was about to fire the two bow torpedoes when he spotted the nearest battleship starting to turn to port to open the distance from the submarine. It gave him an idea.
‘Down periscope. Come right fifteen degrees. Full ahead. Standby to fire the port beam tube.’ He now gambled he could close the distance by 200 yards or so and perhaps get a beam-on target. He also wanted to keep the nearest destroyer occupied. He ordered the bow caps of the port and forward torpedo tubes to be opened and the tanks charged for firing. Ninety seconds later, he ordered the port beam tube to be fired blind. It was clear by the noise of the propellers that the destroyer was close, but he could not tell the bearing without use of the periscope. Thirty seconds later, he reduced speed and raised the periscope.
He couldn’t believe his luck. The destroyer was only 600 yards on the port beam and correctly altering towards the torpedo tracks now clearly visible on the flat surface of the sea. The gun’s crew were fully alert and had immediately started shooting at the periscope. The destroyer was certainly well handled. Amazingly, the battleship was fine on the port bow, beam-on at only 1000 yards. He couldn’t miss. He quickly altered course five degrees to port and ordered both bow tubes to be fired before lowering the periscope. Everything was now down to fate and it was time to clear the area.
‘Keep ninety feet. Starboard twenty. Steer three-five-zero.’
As the submarine dived and started its turn, the loud plops of shells, fired from ashore or the destroyer, could be heard entering the water above. Miraculously, not one had hit the exposed periscope or exploded against the hull. Nervously, Ri
chard and the crew awaited the hoped-for explosions to indicate the torpedoes had struck their intended targets. Running at a speed of thirty knots it would take less than a minute for them to reach their destinations. It was very quickly evident that the beam tube torpedo had not struck home, though. Richard recognised that even if he had fired accurately, the torpedo may well not have had time to come to the correct depth to hit the shallow-draught destroyer and had probably passed underneath. The tension in the air was palpable as the ship’s company silently joined him in counting down the torpedoes’ run times. After fifty seconds, they were rewarded with two loud rumbles as both torpedoes detonated against the hull of the battleship fore and aft. It was nine months since their last successful attack and cheering erupted throughout the boat.
Richard felt nothing but satisfaction his calculations had proved correct. He dismissed a thought to return to periscope depth to take a look. It was too risky and now his main aim was to clear the datum of the attack and round Nagara Point. Grimly, he reflected that their operational patrol had barely started and they still had to reach the open Sea of Marmara.
Chapter 23
Early afternoon, twelve hours after diving off Cape Helles, O’Connell advised Richard that they should be in the Sea of Marmara. Richard had not dared raise the periscope to take a navigational fix since the morning, so the officers were relying completely on dead reckoning. Before ducking beneath the minefields off the town of Gallipoli, Richard had spotted Turkish trawlers dragging wire sweeps to search for the submarine. The air was now monstrously foul and the heat oppressive. Every man was soaked in sweat and ashen-faced. None moved much if they could avoid it. It took too much wind and made them feel even hotter. Steele had been inspecting the batteries frequently to monitor the electrolyte and reported that they were as exhausted as the men. Richard knew that he needed to surface to replenish the air and recharge the precious batteries.
