Those boats were absolutely devoted to speed, and, as I knew, carried no skeg, which as a rule protects the propeller from anything in the water, a bit of wood, rope, or such like. They traveled at an angle of almost 30є tail down and nose up. That was how this one came to jump the Terror’s blister, and blow in her upper works. Well, gunfire having proved utterly ineffective, I “had the honour to suggest” that as a Destroyer was supplied with one grass line forward and another aft, each said Destroyer should, on sighting an attacking E.M.B., bend the two grass lines together and trail them astern, placing them directly across the course of the oncoming E.M.B. She might, by smart handling, have missed the first, but I’ll guarantee she was bound to run over the second, and a few dozen turns of two inch grass line round the prop would quickly put paid to her little joy ride.
I was thanked, very courteously, but informed at the same time that “the method to be adopted must be concentrated gunfire.” I wasn’t altogether surprised, being, by this year of grace — and War — fairly familiar with Navy traditions and Tape. The grass line was obviously too silly and simple.
However, our side soon retaliated with the C.M.B. — short for Coastal Motor Boat. These were real boats and carried a crew of four. Two engineers, two officers and a twenty-two inch mouldy (torpedo). They had a speed of anything up to thirty-five knots, and later in the war reached forty-five. Originally they were based on Harwich, but not allowed to do anything worth while. Many might wonder why. Well, the story oft told, said that what the Navy couldn’t do, no one else was going to get a chance of doing — and collecting kudos! Be that as it may, the High Lights in the C.M.B. world worried the Higher Lights till, in desperation, they sent a Flotilla round to Dover — much to Admiral Bacon’s disgust. He promptly pushed them over on to “Commodore Dunkirk,” and that’s how this collection of splendid fellows with their wonderful boats, came to be based on Dunkirk, using the Destroyers as chummy ships.
Some of their efforts up the coast were epics. They got the Commodore — a real sport — to send a bombing squadron of aeroplanes up the Zeebrugge. It was well-known that apart from submarines, a division of German Destroyers was also based there, and in the case of a raid on Zeebrugge the latter invariably put quietly out to sea, till the flap was over. Then, as quietly returned. All this was common knowledge, but when the bright young sparks of C.M.B. fame, heard of it, they said, “Why, there’s a hell of a fine chance. Turn us loose.” The Commodore, like a good fellow, sent up four bombers to drive out the Destroyers and then turned the C.M.B.’s loose, who promptly sunk one Destroyer, and put another out of action; all in one perfectly good night’s work.
A C.M.B., in effect, was nothing more than a glorified hydroplane, decked-in forward over the engines. Aft she sloped away to the transoms in two complete sections, leaving a lateral gap between. In this gap reposed a twenty-one inch torpedo, with its business end facing forward, propellers and rudders aft.
Fitted over the nose in the warhead of the mouldy, was the cup end of a compressed air ram. On pressing the firing key, the ram forced the torpedo along her slides to the rear and into the water. The action of the torpedo striking the water actuated the trigger, which, in turn, opened the compressed air chamber to the propellors, and at the same time elevated the diving rudders. The net result was that sufficient time having elapsed for the C.M.B. to get clear, the torpedo then shot forward on a course identical to that on which the C.M.B. had been traveling when the firing key was pressed.
These boats must therefore steer straight at their objective until they were well within torpedo range; then fire, — and do their best to get away. Even under the cover of night, they needed a modicum of luck to get out of gun range without being hit — once they had been spotted.
It can’t be denied that some of these boats did have a spot of luck at times. On one such occasion, just as one chap had loosed off his mouldy and put his helm hard over to pull out of the scrum, his port tiller wire broke. The only thing he could do was to put the helm hard over the other way with the remaining wire, and jam the rudder against the stern to keep it quiet, whilst he — the Skipper — leaned over the stern and repaired the offending wire. Meantime his craft was gong all out, some thirty knots, circling round and round. One part of each circle took him clean through the objects of their kind attention — the Division of German Destroyers — who by way of return loosed off impartially, with everything, even including revolvers, for he passed some of them within fifty yards, yet not one of the crew was hit, nor the engine, nor any other vital part. The skipper hitched up the wire, got away, and she returned home, none the worse, beyond a few punctures above the water line.
Another time a chap having let go his mouldy and turned; was making back, when the oil-feed pump broke down, and the engine instantly seized up. They were still within sight, even though it was night, so the nearest Destroyer commenced lobbing salvoes of four inch shells at them. First salvo “over,” next one “short.” Another “over,” and so the game went on, whilst the engineers and officers merely sat under the fore deck, alongside the engine, waiting for the cylinders to cool down sufficiently for them to start up again.
Between them and the four inch high explosive shells was exactly half an inch of perfectly good mahogany.
Once the engine cooled, they were all right, as they were supplied with an auxiliary oil feed. But, meantime, they listened to the shells either whining overhead, or crumping short, sometimes heaving sprays right over the boat. Eventually they also got their engine going, and came away, not a penny the worse.
All the boats were not so lucky, and as time went on an occasional one, here and there did not return. In fact the German Destroyers were not a great while before they discovered a method which effectually put a stop to these little night excursions. We never knew exactly what their practice was, but the evidence was clear, by the increasing number that failed to report. Finally the Commodore called the circus off.
It isn’t to be supposed that the German Destroyer chaps took these attacks lying down. They retaliated by raiding the Straits again and again, and their method of attack made it very difficult for us to locate them. Usually they worked with a division of four modern ships mounting 4.2 guns. (The Grand Fleet collared all our modern Destroyers, so we had to make out as best we could.) The Germans would come down, when there was no moon and tear up and down the Straits, sinking everything on sight. Trawlers, Drifters, Destroyers, or anything else that came within their ken. Their practice was, on anything being sighted by the leading ship, to instantly pass the word down the line, keeping their own sights “on” till the fourth ship picked up the prospective quarry and fired. The other three pressed their triggers at the same instant. The result was one solid salvo of sixteen or twenty guns and then blank darkness again.
Unless one was near and actually looking that way, it was impossible to get a bearing, for they never fired again at that object — usually there was not need. Over went their helms, and off on another tack. Then another flash, in a totally different direction, and still another of the Dover Patrol had paid the price.
A drifter had been put down in this manner one night, and H.M.S. Fairey (Destroyer of our Flotilla) seeing the flash and hearing the report, dashed off in that direction to discover some half a dozen men struggling in the water. He’d got it fixed in his own mind that the explosion had been a mine, and switched on his searchlight to help him see, and rescue the survivors. The Huns, of course, spotted him at once, and after swinging round, came up on his blind side and gave him a salvo also. Only one man out of the crews of both ships was saved.