The raid carried out by the Naval Airship Division on the night of 31 March/1 April had met with mixed results. Having selected London as the prime target, none of the raiders reached it. Instead bombs had dropped on Cleethorpes, Stowmarket, Lowestoft, Bury St Edmunds, Sudbury, Braintree and Thames Haven. But there is one more Zeppelin’s movements that night still to reveal – those of L 15.
Joachim Breithaupt, the 33-year-old commander of L 15, had previously made two telling raids. In October 1915 he had flown across central London in what became known as the ‘Theatreland Raid’1 (for which Breithaupt received the Iron Cross, 1st Class2), and in January 1916 he had commanded L 15 in the great Midlands Raid. Now he was heading for London again.
L 15 crossed the Suffolk coast near Dunwich at 7.45pm. Breithaupt, flying at only 7,200 feet, dropped ballast, bombs and a petrol tank to lighten the airship. At 8.20pm L 15 reached Ipswich, which unfortunately was the same time as the chief constable received the ‘Field Marshal’s Warning Order Only’ alert. Breithaupt dropped three bombs over the docks. An incendiary fell harmlessly in the dock but two HE bombs made their mark. The first exploded in Key Street by Common Quay. A newspaper reported that it exploded on a cottage, ‘which was wrecked, in addition to which much of the adjoining property comprising offices, a public house, corn merchants premises, etc., was badly knocked about’. David Bishop Cattermole, a 57-year-old labourer, was killed instantly while standing outside the public house – the Gun Inn – and two women died. One, Ester Louisa Olding, from ‘cerebral haemorrhage accelerated by excitement caused by the explosion of bombs’, while the other, Jane Hopestill Hoff, aged 75, was so terrified that she died after falling downstairs and fracturing her skull. A soldier inside one of the damaged buildings had to have a leg amputated.3 Heading south over the docks the second HE bomb smashed onto the river bank at the Stoke Bathing Place, the home of Ipswich Swimming Club, where it made short work of the corrugated iron-roofed wooden buildings.
Continuing towards London, Breithaupt approached Colchester and at 8.45pm dropped a single bomb in a meadow close to a number of large industrial buildings in the Hythe district of the town, but damage was limited to broken glass. Changing course, Breithaupt now headed south towards the River Thames, the indelible highway to London. About five miles from the river, at Pitsea, he turned again and, keeping the Thames on his port side, prepared for his second raid on the capital. He was, however, about to enter a hornet’s nest.
The anti-aircraft guns along the Thames were on the alert and 17 were ready for action. Intelligence that Zeppelins were over the country had circulated and RNAAS mobile Maxim guns had already engaged L 15 at Ipswich. The RFC sent pilots up too and three from No.19 Reserve Aeroplane Squadron, based east of London, took off between 9.15 and 9.30pm: Second Lieutenant Henry Powell from Sutton’s Farm, Second Lieutenant Alfred de Bathe Brandon from Hainault Farm, and Second Lieutenant Claude Ridley from Joyce Green. All three were flying the BE2c armed with Ranken darts, bombs and machine guns firing standard .303 lead bullets.
Designed by Engineer Lieutenant Commander Francis Ranken of the Royal Navy, the Ranken dart entered RNAS service as an anti-Zeppelin weapon in July 1915 before acceptance by the RFC in February 1916. The darts were 12 inches in length, one inch wide and weighed just under 1lb. They contained an explosive charge in the forward section and black powder in the rear. At the rear of the dart three spring-loaded vanes opened when released, the idea being that the iron tip penetrated through the outer fabric of the Zeppelin on which the vanes caught hold. A wire coil provided a delay action allowing the leading section to penetrate about 18 inches inside the Zeppelin before a friction tube ignited the explosive. Held under the aircraft in a tin box containing 24 darts, the pilot could release batches of three or all together.
At 9.36pm a searchlight sweeping the sky from the south side of the Thames located L 15 flying at about 8,500 feet near Purfleet on the north side. A 3-inch, 20cwt gun at Dartford, about four miles away, opened up firing 24 rounds over the next four minutes. By the time the gun ceased more searchlights had found L 15 and more of the Thames guns had commenced firing, although some were at very long range. Police Sergeant Swan at Rainham was mesmerised: ‘Anti-aircraft guns blazed away at the Zeppelin as she continued Londonwards. She made a magnificent picture in the glare of the searchlights, with shrapnel bursting all round her.’4
At Purfleet there were three guns: a 3-inch, 20cwt and two 1-pdr ‘pom-poms’. The commander, Captain Joseph Harris, had been confined to bed by the doctor but ‘without a moment’s hesitation he left his bed, dressed and, wrapping himself in a large blanket, went straight to his gun to take command’.5 They opened fire at 9.40pm. While the two ‘pom-poms’ spat out the first of 122 rounds, Harris calmly calculated the range for the 3-inch gun and set the fuzes. The first two rounds detonated short of the target. Harris ordered a change. Of the next two, one was short and the other exploded beyond the target. Harris adjusted the timings on the next three fuzes.
A report submitted by Lieutenant Colonel John W. Reid, commanding the Woolwich area anti-aircraft defences, described the movements of L 15 as the artillery concentrated their fire.
She immediately appeared to be in difficulties; she first swung round on a circle to the left, apparently making efforts to rise, but failing to do so she then swung back again to the right on her original course, pointing West, but the fire of the guns intensifying she swung further to the right.6
To escape the gunfire and rise quickly Breithaupt released 44 bombs (20 HE and 24 incendiary). These smashed a few windows when they fell in open fields at 9.43pm around Rainham and Wennington. Two minutes later, as L 15 passed over the Wennington Road, Captain Harris had completed his adjustments and the 3-inch gun roared back into action. A gunner manning one of the 1-pdrs noted that ‘the big gun got busy’.
Presently a shot from the big gun caught the Zepp. in the stern and a little flame shot out from the envelope... the explosion seemed to throw it round, and at the same time it dropped by the stern with nose in the air.
Of course we were busy with our gun, but the boys couldn’t help making a slight pause to shout ‘She’s hit!’ And then we were busy again. But the next shot from the big one caught it again near the bow towards the centre, and that seemed to paralyse the monster, for it appeared to remain stationary for a couple of seconds before continuing its flight slowly to the north and out of range.7
The crew of L 15 scrambled to assess the damage inflicted by the guns; it was bad news. Shell fragments had ripped through one of the midships gas cells which was now empty. One damaged cell at the stern was leaking badly as was one of the forward cells, and one in the bow was all but empty. Breithaupt was now a worried man: ‘As soon as I knew the result of the [enemy’s] fire I turned about and tried to reach Ostend.’8 Lieutenant Colonel Reid reported L 15 escaping the searchlights at about 9.50pm.
All this activity attracted the attention of the RFC pilots patrolling to the east of London. Henry Powell saw L 15 but unable to reach her height was busy avoiding gunfire, which he reported was bursting all around him. Claude Ridley also saw L 15 far above him from the other side of the Thames but could only offer an optimistic long-range burst of machine gun fire before L 15 disappeared from view.
At 9.40pm, Second Lieutenant Brandon, patrolling at 6,000 feet as ordered, saw L 15 near Purfleet ‘high up on my right’. He started to climb towards her but after five minutes she broke away from the searchlights and he lost contact.
For Otto Kühne, the executive officer (second-in-command) on L 15, the situation had become desperate: ‘We must get out of range of those guns – or at least we must get away from those searchlights. Suddenly we find aeroplanes flying over the ship!’9
Brandon had found L 15 again. Alfred de Bathe Brandon, a 32-year-old New Zealander, had studied Law in England before returning home to join his father’s firm in Wellington. Following the outbreak of war, Brandon came back to England, gained his pilot’s licence in October 1915 and in December joined the Royal Flying Corps as a probationary second lieutenant, his rank confirmed early in March 1916. That month he joined No.19 RAS’s flight at Hainault Farm.
It was about 9.55pm when Brandon closed on his quarry, flying west of Brentwood. The release of bombs had allowed L 15 to climb to 9,000 feet as the 536-foot-long aerial leviathan headed north-east with Brandon’s tiny BE2c, just 27 feet of wood, canvas and wire, in pursuit. Undeterred he climbed until he was 300 or 400 feet above then released a batch of three Ranken darts.
I heard three reports and thought that I had made a hit. Shortly after this I heard more reports, which probably were from a machine gun, and this made me uncertain whether I had made a hit or not.10
Brandon was actually under heavy fire from the Zeppelin, which had an exposed machine gun position on the top of the envelope for just such a situation, as well as others in the gondolas. The machine gunners easily followed his movements because he had forgotten to switch off his navigation lights when he commenced the attack. Brandon attacked again as the Zeppelin neared Ingatestone, noting ‘a tremendous amount of machine gun firing’, at which point he remembered to switch off his lights.
[I] got in a direct line with the Zeppelin. I was then about 500 feet above it; I closed the throttle and volplaned towards the Zeppelin... I then got out an incendiary bomb, and in trying to get it into the tube11 I had to take my eyes off the Zeppelin, and on looking up again I was astonished to find that in a very few seconds I would have passed the Zeppelin, so I quickly placed the incendiary bomb in my lap, and let off No.2 and 3 lots of darts.
Much to his disappointment there were no explosions and at 10.05pm, disorientated by the darkness and the speed of the engagement, Brandon was flying away from L 15 and although he searched for an hour he never saw her again. On landing, an inspection of his BE2c revealed bullet holes in the right aileron, left tail and right elevator.
Although relieved to have escaped this latest attack, Breithaupt’s situation remained desperate. Having risen to 9,000 feet near Rainham, the continuing loss of hydrogen meant L 15 gradually descended ‘in a slow even curve’. Attempting to halt this, Kühne issued orders to lighten the ship: ‘Overboard with every kilo of superfluous weight. Overboard with everything that is not riveted or nailed.’ Machine guns, petrol tanks and all manner of spare parts fell at Stock, around West and South Hanningfield and at Woodham Ferrers.
About 10.25pm, L 15 reached the coast at Foulness where she circled at a height of 2,600 feet and Breithaupt transmitted the first message to Germany that he was in trouble, which the other Zeppelin commanders picked up. Then Breithaupt attempted the shortest sea crossing, hoping to reach Ostend. Once over the sea all confidential papers were weighted and thrown overboard but it soon became clear they would never reach Belgium, prompting Breithaupt’s second message at 11pm hoping for help from German ships: ‘Need immediate assistance between River Thames and Ostend.’ After that Breithaupt jettisoned the radio too.12
With L 15 now only a few hundred feet above the sea, Breithaupt accepted there was nothing more he could do. He ordered all but two of the crew – the elevator and rudder helmsmen – up into the envelope of the airship where the impact on hitting the water would be lessened, while he awaited the inevitable in the command gondola with Kühne and the two helmsmen.
Lieutenant Carey on the armed trawler Osbourne Stroud, operating as a minesweeper, reported a Zeppelin at a height between 400 and 500 feet and engaging her with his anti-aircraft gun, after which he lost sight but heard a loud noise. At 11.15pm Otto Kühne described the last moments of L 15.
An ominous crack resounds through the whole ship. We are in pitch darkness... but one thing I know for certain: our ship is broken in twain. The fracture must be at some spot where there are empty gas-bags.
With its back broken, the Zeppelin hit the water hard, thrusting the command gondola against the body of the airship.
I find that I am standing in water, in an empty ship. It is pitch dark around me... I feel myself all over – no injuries. But around me I can hear no sound save the plash of waves and the gurgles of eddies. Am I the only survivor of the wreck?
Kühne took a deep breath and dived through a hole, but when he surfaced he saw L 15, ‘a spectral outline in the dark night’, drifting away. Swimming after her he caught up and found two other crewmen, then they located Breithaupt and the rest near the middle of the wreck.13 Breithaupt had a fortuitous escape from the command gondola.
I was... completely under water and was tossed about by the water streaming in, but marvellous to relate suddenly rose to the surface and was pulled, completely exhausted, into the airship by my crew... The elevator helmsman [Willy Albrecht] who was next to me was drowned, the rudder helmsman had all his teeth knocked out and I escaped with slight concussion and various minor injuries. The L 15 was sinking, her back broken, half under water with the nose and stern above water.14
Having clambered up to the top of the airship the crew, cold and wet, peered out into the blackness of the night contemplating their fate, all of them aware of what had befallen the crew of Zeppelin L 19 just two months earlier. They hoped they might be close enough to Belgium for German boats to pick them up but they were only 15 miles off the Kent coast north of Margate.
The Admiralty, having intercepted Breithaupt’s call for help, knew L 15 was in trouble and alerted its fleet of minesweeping trawlers and drifters at the mouth of the Thames estuary: ‘Look out for damaged Zeppelin flying low.’ Standing on the bridge of the trawler Olivine, the skipper, a Royal Naval Reserve officer, Lieutenant William R. Mackintosh, saw a flashing light and headed towards it, as did others.
Over two hours after L 15 hit the water the first boats appeared. ‘Shadows of trawlers loom up out of the night. Dutchmen?’ asked Otto Kühne. ‘They slink silently round our wreck. Are they going to rescue us?’ Breithaupt reported that four trawlers stopped about 100 yards off. Among them the Olivine. The crew of L 15 called out for help but, ‘Suddenly a call came quite loudly over the calm water, “go to hell”.’ Immediately afterwards Mackintosh ordered Olivine’s gun to open fire. Breithaupt estimated shells flew over the wreck for about two minutes. Kühne claimed the firing only stopped when the howling siren of an approaching destroyer, HMS Vulture, cut through the sound of gunfire, but British accounts state the firing ‘ceased after a few rounds as there was no resistance’. As rescue appeared imminent, some of the Zeppelin’s crew began to slash the undamaged gas cells to ensure the airship would sink and deny the prize to their captors.
As Olivine approached L 15 a voice shouted: ‘We surrender; have no arms; come alongside.’ Macintosh sent a dingy but remained cautious, insisting they came over in groups of three and ordering them to strip first. Breithaupt was indignant.
This was in cold March weather at 3 o’clock in the morning [2am British time] and besides myself five of the crew had already been swimming for a long time in the extremely cold water. In spite of my refusal to strip I was taken on board the lifeboat.15
The Olivine took 17 men on board, one was missing, before Mackintosh transferred them to HMS Vulture, but Breithaupt remained unhappy with their treatment.
On board the destroyer I, together with my officers of the watch and the two warrant officers was shut up in a very dirty auxiliary engine room. As... I had swallowed a lot of water and gas I felt extremely ill and for four hours I was forced to remain in this engine room seated on an upturned bucket.16
HMS Vulture took the crew to Chatham where Breithaupt’s dark mood failed to improve.
The only furniture in my cell was a very dirty plank bed with no covering and a stool. Scraps of food left by my predecessor were scattered about. Wet through and broken in mind and body broken as a result of the concussion and the depressing feeling of being a prisoner, I sat shivering on my plank bed.17
* * *
For the first time the British authorities had access to a Zeppelin of the latest design, but clearly it was in a sinking condition, with the centre section below the water and the bow and stern in the air. At least two men from the destroyer HMS Electra clambered aboard L 15 to start making notes on her construction, but by the time they were ready to take the wreck in tow only the tail remained above the surface. During this time many boats crowded around, their crews eager to grab a souvenir or two. Mr Tibbenham from the Kentish Knock lightship, moored a mile away, was quick off the mark and secured pieces of the framework, which he made into brooches for the ladies in his family.18 Shortly after they began to tow the wreck it sank. Lieutenant Carey on the Osbourne Stroud had no doubts why. ‘The cause of the rapid sinking of the ship,’ he explained, ‘was the damage caused by boats round the ship breaking up the framework and cutting the canvas.’19
A salvage crew aboard the armed trawler Seamew, led by Chief Gunner (T) W.A. Austin, located and buoyed the wreck on 6 April, pulling up the 30-foot tail section from a depth of 90 feet. Despite numerous attempts, many hampered by bad weather, it was not until 28 May that they hauled the tangled mass of wreckage onto Margate Sand, a sandbank lying off Margate and Westgate.20
Each day at low tide they sifted through the wreckage and, up to 8 June, Austin had sent in numerous items, ‘including 5 canvas bags, one metal case of charts, 2 propellers with shaft and gear boxes, one machine gun, bomb dropping machines, instruments and control and steering gear’. They also recovered the body of Willy Albrecht, the missing crewman, drowned in the control gondola from which Breithaupt and Kühne had escaped. Soon after, however, Austin reported that, ‘owing to the shifting nature of the Margate Sand the remains of the wreckage have now disappeared’.
The crew of L 15 remained at Chatham for six days of interviews and questioning. From this information and the wreckage, it was possible to create detailed reports covering construction techniques, design and the airship service. From these it became clear that L 15 had an internal keel, an innovation introduced in September 1913 but unknown in Britain, a fact summarised in the report with the words: ‘All the present published drawings of Zeppelins are wrong.’21
While still at Chatham a group of journalists received permission to talk to the prisoners.
All the men looked strong and healthy...Most of the men were looking very cheerful, apparently glad that they had escaped with their lives from what turned out to be a very dangerous undertaking.
We asked the men if they could distinguish anything during a raid in dark nights. They were somewhat shy in answering, but declared they could see absolutely nothing – they could only distinguish land from water. One of them said, ‘We do not know what our officers may see through the glasses; we could see nothing.’ We asked them if it was not a sorry business to kill women and children. Some of the men were quite frank, and said, ‘We do as we are ordered.’22
When asked the same question, Breithaupt responded:
You must not suppose that we set out to kill women and children. We have higher military aims. You would not find one officer in the German Army or Navy who would go to kill women and children. Such things happen accidently in war.23
On 7 April, with the questioning over, the transfer of the crew to POW camps began. The German officers’ camp at Donington Hall, Leicestershire, would accommodate Breithaupt and Kühne.24 Taken to London they boarded a train for Leicester, guarded by two officers carrying swords and an NCO with loaded rifle and fixed bayonet. At Leicester they had to wait two hours for a train to take them on the final leg of their journey. A newspaper reporter studied the two officers, Breithaupt first.
He appeared to be quite at his ease as he walked to the first-class waiting room closely attended by his guard, and he seemed rather pleased than otherwise at the curiosity which was shown by the numerous passengers who travelled by the same express from St Pancras. The second officer, however, appeared to be rather sullen, and his lips were pressed as with downcast eyes he marched along the platform... In spite of the strong feelings aroused by the Zeppelin raids, there were no outward manifestations of hostility.25
The rest of the crew, destined for Eastcote camp in Northamptonshire, experienced a slightly different reception.26
In Chatham railway station some old women threw some wet bread and eggs at them and at Euston Station in London a crowd was expecting them and they were hooted, else wise all went calm.27
* * *
The outcome of the raid demonstrated a clear improvement in Britain’s defences. For the first time a British pilot had engaged a Zeppelin over Britain at night and the anti-aircraft guns had put up a spirited defence resulting in the destruction of a Zeppelin. ‘It must be acknowledged,’ Breithaupt later confided, ‘that the enemy’s aim was wonderful.’ And the embryonic warning system had showed promise too. For his actions Second Lieutenant Alfred de Bathe Brandon received the Military Cross, his citation reading, ‘For conspicuous gallantry and skill in dropping bombs on a Zeppelin at night’. But another award also attracted significant interest.
In March 1915, a wealthy businessman and Alderman of the City of London, Sir Charles Wakefield, whose company had developed Castrol Oil, offered a prize of £500 to the first person or persons responsible for bringing down a Zeppelin on British soil.28 Later that year, in November, Sir Charles became Lord Mayor of London. Although L 15 came down at sea and not on ‘British soil’, on 2 April an anti-aircraft battery made the first claim for the prize, then others followed. Wakefield was disposed to take a broad-minded view if the War Office would verify the successful claim.
That first claim came from Captain Harris of the Purfleet battery, but the Dartford gunners also claimed the critical hit, while Lieutenant Colonel Reid, commanding the Woolwich area guns, believed a number of guns warranted recognition, but ended his report on 3 April with the following statement.
The most effective hit was by a common shell fired from the Dartford gun which burst on the airship near the top and burst about two-thirds of her length back from her nose.29
Harris at Purfleet, however, was having none of this and went out of his way to disprove the Dartford claim. He recovered two fuzes from shells fired by the Dartford gun set to explode well short of the distance of 8,350 yards he calculated that lay between the Dartford gun and the nearest of the craters made by L 15’s bombs. He added a cutting remark: ‘Possibly this gun was firing at another Zeppelin.’ Harris found further evidence nearby as local resident, J.C. Ovenall, living in Sussex Terrace on London Road, revealed many years later. As a boy he witnessed the raid and remembered one shell making a particularly noisy ‘whizz’ over the house and a big ‘plop’ on the open field across the road. In the morning his father found a shell fragment weighing 1¾lb. Gunners at a Church Parade in Purfleet heard about this and Harris was quick to investigate and borrow the souvenir.
At the inquiry which followed it was resolved that the base of the shell was from the Dartford gun, proof that the Dartford shells were falling short of the target, and the credit for bringing down the Zeppelin was given to the Purfleet crew.30
There was no doubt amongst the villagers in Purfleet either. A reporter who visited the following day could not help note the joy on the resident’s faces: ‘If you ask why there are so many smiles and the sound of hearty laughter on all sides, you will be met with: ‘Why, haven’t you heard – our boys brought the Zeppelin down?’31
After sifting through all the evidence, the War Office concluded that the Purfleet gun was most likely to have fired the successful shots and confirmed this in official documents. Awarding Sir Charles Wakefield’s prize of £500, however, did not sit well with the War Office and they baulked at the idea of servicemen receiving financial rewards, so publicly attributed the destruction of L 15 to the efforts of all the guns and searchlights along the Thames.
Still keen to provide some form of reward, Wakefield used the prize money to produce medals for all those in action that night. In November he distributed 353 medals made of 9-carat gold, each individually engraved with the recipient’s name and rank to mark the night when, for the first time, the British defences had successfully attacked a Zeppelin over British soil.32 It bore the words ‘Well Hit’.
The British public greeted the destruction of a hated Zeppelin with enthusiasm, but the fact that it happened miles out to sea beyond the view of the population diluted some of the impact. And with more raids taking place over the next four nights, the newspapers soon had plenty of fresh copy with which to fill their pages.