CHAPTER 10

The Royal Navy

The Royal Navy went to war in 1914 as the darling of the nation. Capital investment had been lavished on the senior service since the wooden walls of England were replaced first by the ‘iron-clad’, then by armoured steel, steam driven monsters. Money had been poured into the navy to protect imperial trade. The overseas possessions provided harbours, coaling stations and dockyards. The concept of ‘Pax Brittanica’and freedom to navigate the seven seas was the justification for the unusually generous treatment the navy received from governments and the treasury. Ship type followed ship type; guns of any calibre you like were manufactured to replace muzzle loading cannon and then installed in the floating fortresses. Steam was mixed with sail, for a time propellers could be raised and lowered at the captain’s whim. For the guns, sponsons, barbettes and turrets were all given a trial. Power, speed and tonnage were increased, electrical systems were introduced, steam turbines replaced the inefficient double and triple expansion, reciprocating engines. After trial and error at last the naval architects determined a ship design to make the most of the new technology. Single calibre main armament fore and aft25, mounted in rotating turrets located on the centre line, command centre, bridge that is, forward of the midpoint of the hull, immediately aft of the forward guns, secondary weapons of common calibre aft of the bridge to port and starboard sides of the hull; engines and fuel deep in the hull, together with ammunition.

The ‘iron-clad’ with auxiliary steam engines, successor to the wooden walls ship of the line, became transformed into a recognisable, armoured steel, battle wagon, or cruiser, or destroyer, or frigate; the principals were the same it was the size that varied, until that is one looked at the new fangled submarine armed with the Whitehead torpedo.

The key to the whole edifice was coal. Warships of the day consumed prodigious quantities of the best Welsh steaming coal. To sustain the supply of this fuel the trade routes had to be kept open for all, this was a task, so the argument ran, which only the fair minded British, who already had worldwide coaling stations in the harbours of numerous colonies, could be trusted to undertake. Do you detect the self sustaining nature of the proposition? The Germans, post 1871, and in particular Kaiser Wilhelm II took serious exception to this assumption of supremacy. Willy’s Germany convinced itself that the new nation had a right to a ‘Place in the Sun’. And so another section of the road to Armageddon slotted into place.

The outline of the naval arms race from the time of Edward VII’s accession to the throne is described in an earlier portion of this expedition through history and is not to be repeated here. The aspect of the British response to the German policy of naval expansion not included in the previous ramblings is the issue of personalities. At this critical juncture in history, the Royal Navy came under the influence of a professional naval officer of intellectual genius and maverick personality, John ‘Jackie’ Fisher, later Admiral of the Fleet and Peer of the Realm. Admiral Fisher by himself would have been a handful for the political establishment, but it never rains etc. Who else was makinar a name and buildinar a career as a politician, none other than Winston Spencer Churchill. The two together were dynamite looking for an explosion.

Admiral Fisher was the man who envisaged the full development of the twentieth century ship of the line and the outcome of his inspiration was a ‘capital ship’, a battleship which took the class name of the first ship built, HMS Dreadnought. The new ship consolidated all the experience acquired of steam powered warships and produced, for the time, a leviathan, 18,110 tons, 527 ft (176m) long, 10 x 12” main guns in five turrets plus secondary armament plus torpedo tubes, the armoured hull driven by direct drive steam turbines to provide a design maximum speed of twenty-one knots. Later ships were “bigger and better” and called super Dreadnoughts. The ships for which he was responsible were Fisher’s masterpiece, all other capital ships worldwide were immediately obsolescent, Wilhelm II of Germany was mortified. So, incidentally, were all the other governments worldwide who had bought ships from British yards before the advent of Dreadnought. Nice big earner for Vickers and all the other shipbuilders replacing the obsolescent battle wagons so recently built and paid for; Oh Perfidious (and profitable) Albion!

The race was on, between 1905, when Dreadnought was launched, and 1914; Britain built thirty-two battleships and ten, more lightly armoured, higher speed, battle cruisers; the Germans nineteen and six respectively. There was a major difficulty for the German construction programme. The factor that determined the number of capital ships which could be completed was not, as many suppose, the number of hulls laid down or even the manufacture and installation of the engines. The limitation was, for the Germans, the inability of Herr Krupp to make the turrets and guns for the new ships in sufficient numbers. In the ten year period leading to the Great War Britain’s capital ship production exceeded Germany by almost 60%. Amongst the significant innovations of the Dreadnought design specification was the introduction of steam turbine engines. This innovative design had been pioneered by the British engineer Charles Parsons who publicised the advantage of his invention by setting his experimental craft ‘Turbinia’ on a daring high speed trial through the Fleet review for Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897.

The advantage of the turbine is that because of the limited number of moving parts, essentially a single shaft on which rotors and stators are positioned, practically a series of shaped blades that catch the force of high pressure steam injected into the casing in which the turbine is contained. The simplicity of design allows sustained high performance for long periods. A great advantage when the demands of a fleet action are needed on call. The Royal Navy’s ‘Queen Elizabeth’ Class of oil fired ‘super’ Dreadnoughts proved to a very reliable combination of fuel, boilers and engines. The alternative used previously, triple expansion, reciprocating engines were of a different order of complication. Each engine has three sets of cylinders, pistons with glands that leak, cranks, bearings and other sundry gee gaws that need constant lubrication and even then can and usually do malfunction at the crucial moment. Operate engines of this sort to the limit for any length of time and it all ends in tears. Not what you need when you are committed to high speed action against a determined enemy who can stay the course. The German fleet at Jutland included six pre Dreadnought capital ships in the ‘battle order’, there were no such ships in the larger British ‘Grand Fleet’ when battle was joined.

The problem encountered in the transition of naval warfare from the established procedures of the wooden fleets dependant on sail and wind to the techniques and concepts needed to make the most of the Dreadnought class of ship, is that from the time the Napoleonic wars were completed the navy did not fight a single fleet action. It, the ‘navy’, appeared on the scene in 1827 to reinforce the Greeks in their fight to obtain independence from the Ottoman Empire and huffed and puffed during the Crimean War. Nowhere though were battle tactics given a trial in the cauldron of warfare. It was a grave disadvantage; the issues of command and control, gunnery direction, signalling and manoeuvre of the innovative self propelled, modern steel warship in the confusion of battle were in the Royal Navy all a matter of theory. Well almost, in June 1893 Admiral Sir George Tyron, C in C Mediterranean Fleet was commanding an exercise in the Eastern Med during daylight in calm conditions, he took matters further, with two columns of six battleships in each. His intention appears to have been to reverse the course of his ships. He gave orders and the ships turned towards each other, there was insufficient sea room. The flag ship, HMS Victoria had a serious coming together with the leading ship of the second column, HMS Camperdown. Victoria sank and with her the admiral, taking with him his reputation as an irascible martinet who entertained the belief that a subordinate, even one of flag rank, who received the time of day from Sir George should be grateful.

The only practical example of what could and could not be done was the experiences of the respective navies in the Russo Japanese War when the Japanese won two resounding victories and effectively destroyed the Russian Navy.

The Battle of Tsushima in May 1905 was not a battle of equals. The Japanese had launched a pre-emptive naval attack on the Russian Pacific fleet in their base at Port Arthur in February 1904. Over the next few weeks more actions between the fleets inflicted further damage to the Russian ships that survived the initial raid. In December 1904 Port Arthur itself was captured by Japanese ground forces. The Russian Naval forces on the east coast of the nation had to all intents and purposes been eliminated. The few remaining ships were forced to withdraw to Vladivostock, further north. Russia was in naval terms at an enormous disadvantage. Given the distances between the navigable seaboards of the nation, the northern seaboard with the Arctic Ocean was not an option, the concept of mutual support was no more than so many words and quite unachievable. She was also short of shipbuilding capacity and the ability to manufacture heavy armaments.

Russia was drawn into the war by the aggressive incursions of the Japanese and a response had to be made to defend the eastern seaboard of the Tsar’s empire. The Russian Baltic Fleet was dispatched, to sail half way round the world and confront the enemy. For any navy without a single dedicated coaling station or dockyard between the port of departure and destination such a voyage, via the Cape of Good Hope for the capital ships and the Suez Canal for the smaller ones, was a monumental undertaking. Every type of support vessel had to be found. Colliers, repair ships, hospital ships, stores ships and probably others as well were essential to the enterprise. In all probability the Royal Navy of Britain would have given any suggestion of such an enterprise no chance of success at all, for the Russians it was an action born of desperation. So it proved to be.

The Russian fleet made its way from the Baltic into the Atlantic, sinking a British fishing boat in the North Sea, having mistaken the trawler for a Japanese torpedo boat! (An event that does not speak well of the nautical competence of the Russian Naval command.) The ships of the Russian Baltic Fleet finally reached the Straits of Korea on 27 May 1905 with the objective of sailing on to the harbour and dockyard of Vladivostock to make good the wear and tear of a six month voyage from the Baltic. The Japanese, commanded by Admiral Heihachiro Togo, had other ideas. Bright eyed, fresh and close to home ports, Togo’s ships met the Russians off the Island of Tsushima to do battle. The Russian battle line advanced at a stately nine knots, probably the maximum possible. The Japanese went in at full tilt, crossed the ‘T’ of the advancing Russians and devastated their enemy. In just a few hours and a quick bit of clearing up the following morning the Russians were routed. Two fleets lost in just a few months, Oscar Wilde’s Lady Bracknell would certainly have had something to say about such carelessness.

In the space of a year the vulnerability of battleships to the devastation of high explosives was made plain for all to see. What happened? The major navies and their governments went on building bigger and better battleships. Who was in the forefront of the building programme, none other than Britain’s Admiral ‘Jackie’ Fisher, hotly pursued by Germany and Willie.

The point of these digressions from the events of the Great War is to realise that the actual experience of using the power of the twentieth century battle fleet had only been tested in practice on a very limited scale. Even the manoeuvring was largely a matter of adaptation of the techniques of the line of battle of the wooden sailing men o’ war. In the absence of war conditions, fighting the enemy was not available to influence the tactical or strategic philosophy of the Royal Navy. Instead the Lords of the Admiralty transformed appearance into a measure of fighting qualities. Even the quality of the gunfire was compromised as the heat from the big shells was so intense the paint on the gun barrels blistered. This spoilt the appearance and often required the ship’s captain to purchase high grade enamel paint, at his own expense, to smarten things up again. For too long the navy did not take gunnery seriously, only the determination of Fisher and another admiral of very different qualities, Sir Percy Scott, brought the voice of reason to the subject, imposing improvements in the performance of HM ships in their prime task of sinking the enemy. If they had not done so the achievements of the Allied armies who were to fight tooth and nail every day from August 1914 to November 1918 were in danger of being thrown away.

To level such serious accusations against a national institution calls for justification. Consider the following.

1.   The newly commissioned battleship, HMS Audacious, sank in the Irish Sea on 27 October 1914, after hitting a single mine.

2.   Three cruisers, admittedly not new, HMSs Aboukir, Crecy and Houge sank as a result of torpedo action by the submarine U9 in the North Sea, when undertaking close blockade duty. There was heavy loss of life.

3.   The German battle cruiser Goeben and the light cruiser Breslau escaped the surveillance of the Royal Navy and the French Navy off the coast of Morocco, sailed through the Mediterranean to Constantinople, modern Istanbul, and joined the fleet of Germany’s ally, Turkey.

4.   The Royal Navy in its wisdom, knowing full well that the Germans had deployed a small but powerful squadron in the Pacific, provided no reinforcement to the command of Sir Christopher Craddock whose main constituents were the HMSs, Canopus a pre Dreadnought battleship, Monmouth and Good Hope armoured cruisers, the light cruiser, Glasgow and a converted liner Otranto. Murphy was of course lurking in the wings and sure enough action was joined off the coast of southern Chile at Coronel. Admiral Craddock and his command were obliterated. Glasgow escaped though hit by gun fire five times. Otranto had been ordered to escape. The position was only recovered by the hasty dispatch of the battle cruisers Inflexible and Invincible under Sir Doveton Sturdee. He was coaling his ships in the Falklands Islands when the German squadron showed up, the outcome evened the score.

5.   The German heavy ships were not deterred from nuisance raids on English east coast ports and towns such as Hartlepool and Scarborough.

6.   The introduction of submarine warfare by the Germans found the Admiralty with no plans for the protection of merchant shipping; shipping that sustained the war effort on the Western Front. The convoy system was introduced only when losses reached a point of national crisis and was forced on a reluctant navy. The shipping losses were then brought down to an acceptable tonnage.

7.   German commerce raiders went on the loose in the Indian Ocean and only a lot of effort dealt with the problem including sinking the notorious Emden. There were no plans or ships in place to cut off the raiders’ source of supply until damage had been done.

8.   The Royal Navy’s engagement in January 1915 off the Dogger Bank in the North Sea was inconclusive, the British were present in superior numbers of capital ships, five to three, gunfire seriously damaged two of the three German ships. Then, would you believe it, the navy got its signals mixed up and instead of going after the withdrawing enemy ships, concentrated on one that was already badly damaged. It was a precursor of Jutland.

9.   The navy deployed older ships, pre Dreadnought, that failed to force the passage of the Dardanelles as part of the joint offensive with France against Germany’s ally Turkey and lost several ships to mines and shell fire.

10.   Then there was Jutland on 31st May and 1st June 1916. The controversy surrounding the clash of the titans has been recounted times without number and has provided a rich source of material for any point of view you like to take. The bald facts of the event are that the British capital ship forces outnumbered the opposition in a ratio of 1.5/1.0. The Royal Navy gained the tactical advantage of crossing the enemies ‘T’ not once but twice. The German High Seas Fleet though paid some attention to the perils of dealing with a battle scene if their fleet were to be at a disadvantage. The outcome of their planning was to conceive and introduce to their battle plans a manoeuvre referred to as a ‘battle turn away’. This allowed for all the ships of a formation to turn away simultaneously from a point of danger. This tactic it seems had not been considered by the Royal Navy who expected their opposition to turn in sequence and take their punishment. The British Grand Fleet lost more capital ships than the German High Seas Fleet and the Germans returned to their home port. However never again did the German ships venture battle with the Royal Navy. It was a tactical draw but a strategic victory.

11.   Then as if this sorry litany was insufficient, there was the ‘battle’ of May Island. The setting for this event was the Firth of Forth on the afternoon and evening of 31st January 1918. The Isle of May is a rocky outcrop, big enough for a lighthouse and a couple of cottages five miles from the northern shore of the estuary on a line running south from Crail on the northern shore to Dunbar on the southern shore of the Firth. The occasion, a fleet exercise. From the Rosyth base the Royal Navy’s 5th Battle squadron (three battleships) with 2nd Battle cruiser squadron (four battle cruisers) with their attendant escorts in company with 12th and 13th Submarine Flotillas (all ‘K’ class vessels) were to put to sea and join the Grand Fleet which had earlier sailed from Scapa Flow, together they would look for trouble. As the capital ships progressed towards the open sea with their escorts, trouble loomed in the murk of a Scottish winter’s day for the submarines of the 13th Flotilla that were central to the disorder to follow. The ‘K’ boats were, to say the least, of unusual design. Steam driven and capable of twenty-one knots for surface operations, when submerged the boilers were put out and electric power took over. They were poor sea boats in anything but flat calm as well as being unhandy for navigation and manoeuvre. Their role was to go to sea with the fleet, submerge when the enemy was sighted and launch torpedo attacks on the opposing forces. Quite how a submerged submarine able to operate at a maximum of six knots was meant to catch up with target moving at least three times that speed has never been clearly explained. However, the two flotillas were part of the ‘order of battle’ so off they went cruising on the surface at nineteen knots. Murphy was not going to miss such a wonderful opportunity to interfere, two small vessels, nothing to do with the exercise, got in the way as the ships passed the Isle of May, one of the ‘K’ boats, K14, took avoiding action, her helm jammed, K14 collided with her sister K22. Confusion reigned, signals took hours to reach the commanders concerned, navigation lights were misread, course alterations unrecognised for their inherent danger. In all there were five collisions, two of the ‘K’ boats were sunk, nine officers and ninety-five ratings lost their lives; all without a shot being fired.

The responsibility for the poor achievement appears to be a matter of strategic philosophy and intellectual preconceptions. There was a rigidity of command that relieved big ship commanders of initiative. The Admiralty fighting instructions for the Grand Fleet at Jutland was a volume of several hundred pages. Admiral Jellico was one of those responsible for the preparation of this manual, so cannot escape responsibility for any shortcomings. Reading of the events of that day, 31st May 1916, the impression is gained that both the captains of the capital ships and the admirals in command of sub divisions of the fleet took the approach that, if the situation encountered was not covered by the ‘Fighting Instructions’ then the event was of no consequence. A reasonable proposition for consideration is that the atmosphere of the command structure of admirals such as Hood, Jeram, Evan Thomas et al reporting to the Fleet Commander Jellico were in a stifling and introspective society. This was a closed community where all discussion began from an assumption of British superiority. I may be wrong but it seems incomprehensible to me that a naval force of the quality of the Grand Fleet could fail to defeat their enemy comprehensively when presented with the supreme tactical advantage, not once but twice within a few hours.

Communications and signals between ships, squadrons, flag ships and of all things the Fleet Commander, Jellicoe, were badly handled. Vice Admiral Beatty allowed at least ten minutes to elapse before replying to one signal from Jellicoe! My contention is that whilst the use of signals by flag was appropriate for slow moving sailing ships, insufficient attention had been given to the arrangements to pass orders and information between fast moving units spread over several dozen square miles of ocean. It seems unrealistic to expect all ships of a sub unit to see command signals with equal clarity given the variations of light and the confusion created by smoke from coal burning furnaces, however big the flag. The traditional signalling procedure with flags was initiated from the commander’s ship, who hoisted the flag signal which then had to be acknowledged by the other ships of the unit, when the flag was hauled down the order was executed. An arduous and time consuming arrangement and what about the regular occurrence of night, flags are not much use then or am I missing something?

Then there was the loss of the battle cruisers by catastrophic explosions. Subsequent exploration of wrecks of the battle cruisers lost during the action has identified a possible cause. In the ‘mind set’ of the navy, rate of fire was all: the storage and handling of ammunition secondary. One explanation of the damage suffered by the ships lost was that the handling of the cordite charges was defective. Cordite charges were apparently stored outside the magazines built for their protection, during the battle! The reason, the arrangement allowed for faster handling. Someone blundered.

The issue of signals had become a serious presence in naval actions. The ‘powers that be’ on shore were now in a position to second guess the commander at sea with the ships and issue orders for the conduct of affairs; unlike the army during the Great War when generals in France were unable to make contact with formations in battle. Admirals went to sea and expected to take control of the battle as it progressed. Conflict of command is, as any half decent manager will tell you, a prime way to create confusion, the commander/manager responsible must be allowed to fight his battles as he will, if he fails he is dismissed. If however someone peers over his shoulder and gives new instructions half way through an action then who made the wrong decision, the buck has nowhere to rest, has it? Take if you will the confusion caused in Act II at the Battle of the Barents Sea and the handling of orders for convoy PQ_ 17. The lessons took too long to learn.

It is of course easy, as I have tried to explain in other sections of this consideration, to read into the accounts of past events, defects that to the men responsible at the time were the opposite, the right thing to do. At best the outcomes of the encounters are only evidence of problems not an understanding of all the contributing factors, particularly the human contribution. Can we be certain that it was the admirals and captains who made the mistakes? May it not have been the yeoman of signals who, in the smoke and fog of battle, saw what he expected to see and so gave misleading information? No one can be certain, unless it is yourself you wish to convince.

What then are the achievements that stand to the credit of the Royal Navy in the Great War? First, foremost for seagoing operations and essential to the final outcome of defeating Germany must be, the credit for running the cross channel supply route from the coastal ports of south neast England to France. This vital sea lane remained open all the time the army needed its supplies. The German Navy was unable to cause any significant interruption or loss. Boring, wet, cold, routine small ship escort duty, minesweeping and anti submarine patrols, a task that goes almost without comment and is given little or no credit. Second in the list is the eventual success of the convoy system to bring supplies from overseas. Not only was it essential to the outcome of the Great War it also prepared the navy for the convoy operations of Act II from 1939–45. The submarine service found its feet and gave a good account of itself, particularly in the Baltic and the Black Sea. As also did the concept of anti submarine warfare, meaning that in the nick of time for Act II, supplementing the convoy system, there was equipment, first hydrophones, that was developed subsequently into the ASDIC system, later there was radar, and a tactical philosophy which could take the war to the enemy.

The most dashing operation the navy undertook during the Great War must be the events of St. George’s Day, 23rd April 1918 and the raid on Zeebrugge. The Germans during their occupation of Belgium had used the ports of Zeebrugge and Ostend and the inland waterways leading to the city of Bruges to develop a naval base for submarines, coastal warships, motor launches and the like with an overlay of destroyers. These forces were deployed against coastal shipping in the Thames Estuary and the coast of Kent. The submarine base was used by boats making for the Atlantic approaches to Britain. These submarines reportedly took passage through the Straits of Dover! The presence of these facilities and the interference with British coastal shipping was an unwanted complication. Something had to be done. Now here was a job about which the navy knew a great deal. The Royal Navy had been raiding enemy ports for generations, since Drake singed the King of Spain’s beard at Cadiz in 1587. The words of Drake’s instructions included the following “...to impeach the joining together of the King of Spain’s fleet out of its many parts...” (great stuff). A scheme was prepared, Vice Admiral Sir Roger Keyes took command, sailors and marines, officers and men volunteered and trained for the party and off they went. Keyes in command sailed in the modern destroyer HMS Warwick, leading the rest of the flotilla headed by the obsolete light cruiser HMS Vindictive, two Mersey ferries, Iris and Daffodil, a couple of scrap submarines C1 and C3 that could, if you had a vivid imagination, be described as seaworthy; these two vessels were bomb ships; plus a gaggle of motor launches and three block ships. They sailed on the evening of 22nd April 1918 for Zeebrugge and Ostend. In the early hours of St George’s Day battle commenced. The flotilla stormed the port of Zeebrugge, destroyed a significant portion of the causeway leading to the ‘Mole’ of the harbour with one of the exploding submarines, sank the block ships in the main navigation channel, seriously damaged the port installations and then went home in time for lunch. The raid on Ostend was not completed; the crafty enemy had moved a navigation buoy and interfered with one portion of the plan. ‘Vindictive’ went back on to Ostend on 9th May and in a follow up action blocked the navigation channel from Bruges.

The achievements of the navy at sea during the Great War have to reflect the fact that unless the enemy puts to sea, given modern sea defences, battle cannot be joined. The Grand Fleet defended the nation but did not defeat the enemy. Supplies from around the world reached Britain to feed the nation and supply the war effort but the threat of submarines and mines to shipping remained until the last shot was fired. It was not that the Royal Navy did things wrong, it is more that what it did was not quite what was needed; ships were in the wrong place at the wrong time, as at Coronel in 1914, then, emergency action was required to recover the balance of events.

For this situation to have developed the Admiralty, its senior commanders and its political masters for two generations have to answer and they are not now available to explain how the rot set in. Some references above tire tis far as it is reasonable to venture within the scope of this consideration. We can however turn to the commanders and admirals of the day and ask knowing what we do, what were the shortcomings? Sir John Jellicoe, Commander at Jutland was absolute in his strategy that the Grand Fleet must be available in such force on demand that the German Fleet would be unable to secure a victory. Force had to be concentrated and this doctrine dominated naval strategy and tactical thinking, the ‘what’ aspect of the equation was understood the ‘how’ factor was much less clearly understood. He did not “lose the war in an afternoon” as Winston Churchill suggested was a possibility. What he did lose was the initiative. Sir John became C in C of the Grand Fleet in 1914 under Jackie Fisher and succeeded him as First Sea Lord the professional head of the navy in 1916. (The first Lord of the Admiralty was a politician and member of the government of the day.) Jellicoe handed over his command to Sir David Beatty Admiral Beatty had an outstanding early career in the Royal Navy being made ‘post’ that is, promoted to captain, at the age of twenty-nine. His contemporaries would be lucky to reach the same rank by the age of forty. He had charisma, charm and a rich wife. As a commander with independence he had flair and ability which marked him for high office. His achievement as vice admiral commanding the Grand Fleet’s battle cruisers was disappointing. Just enough doubt is raised by reading of events to suggest he was not a good team player and that he lacked that last degree of intellect needed to make the contribution he and his ships should have delivered when action against the Germans was joined. The one name that readers of the naval aspects of the Great War are unable to avoid is that of Commodore Tyrwhitt, later admiral, this officer was from 1914 to 1918 in commanded of the ‘light forces’ out of Harwich. He took the war to the enemy at any opportunity. When the signals went out advising of the encounter of the fleets off Jutland, Tyrwhitt’s light forces had to be peremptorily ordered back to harbour, their fire eating commodore having taken his forces to sea on his own initiative. I am sure that if he could have found the means he would have taken his ships up the River Spree and bombarded the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin. He was truly in the mould of one of Nelson’s band of brothers.

Then there was the Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS) the equivalent of the army’s RFC. This service also had to find a role to fulfill from sea level as it were. No one knew what the new service could achieve. Initially all the aircraft and airships of the service had to be land based. A disadvantage for a force committed to the support of the navy. Reconnaissance work was the first and obvious role and indeed much effort was applied to the task operating both fixed wing aircraft and airships. There is however a real difference between searching a wide area of empty sea and patrolling over a landscape as did the RFC. An empty landscape can be just what the commander needs to insert his forces into a position to exploit enemy weakness. An empty seascape is just that, empty. It tells you nothing of the enemy or his activity.

If you do put your ships in the empty slot there is no certainty that the enemy will turn up for a game.

The RNAS trialed various options including launching aircraft by catapult from ships and introducing ships able to launch and retrieve seaplanes. HMS Engadine was one such and had a ‘walk-on role’ at Jutland. Then just when ideas were getting a bit thin on the ground the Germans saved the day. The enemy started using their aircraft and airships to attack England and London in particular. Air defence became essential and so, the sailors turned aeronauts were given an opportunity to make a name for themselves. The RNAS was on the same footing as the RFC when it came to experience and equipment for aerial combat, they made it up as they went along, adapted and invented where they could. That any of the enemy were shot down given the limitations just mentioned is a tribute to tenacity and courage of a very high order. The intruders were challenged and did suffer losses. On 1st April 1918 the RNAS joined the RFC, to form the RAF, but you knew that already.

It is best not to leave the brief mention of the RNAS without a tribute to one of its members who represents the spirit of the original service, by describing in part the way things had to be done if airships were to remain serviceable. Archie Binding was thirty when the war started in 1914; he had worked in the family cartage firm after leaving school. His father, who must have been an enterprising man, quickly saw the advantages of motor transport and changed from horse drawn carts to motor vehicles in advance of most other businesses. Archie was therefore in pole position to learn the skills of the new mechanical contraptions. He turned himself into a more than competent mechanic, after an engineering apprenticeship. On enlistment into the navy his skills ensured rapid promotion to petty officer and then chief petty officer. The duties and postings that followed led to some hair raising experiences as the engineering petty officer was responsible for the performance of the twin 150hp ‘Sunbeam’ engines which powered an airship, a responsibility which included flying on operations. The ignition systems of these engines incorporated an unreliable ‘magneto’ system, prone to failure at inconvenient moments, as in the middle of a sortie. This would mean the CPO Binding plus tools and spares, would climb out of the relative safety of the open gondola which passed for crew accommodation, swarm across the unprotected framework of the airship whilst in flight, remove the faulty component, replace it with the spare, go through the procedure to restart the engine, make sure all was well, then climb back to the crew gondola. Often to provide extra excitement this routine had to be undertaken in the dark. Of such adventurous men was the RNAS founded. Archie logged over 3000 hrs of flying time in airships, was awarded the Air Force Cross (AFC) in 1919, and served as an engineer officer in the Fire Service between 1940 and 1945, he died in 1991 aged 105.

The most spectacular achievement of the navy has to be however the work of Captain, later Rear Admiral, Reginald ‘Blinker’ Hall and his small team of analysts who, working from the anonymous Room 40 of the Admiralty building, broke the German Naval codes and for most of the war British Intelligence staff read the secret radio and cable traffic not only of the German Navy, but additionally the diplomatic messages including the ‘Zimmerman telegram’ of which more later. It was the contents of this disastrous signal and the handling of the knowledge that brought the United States into the war and hastened the defeat of Germany.

The outstanding success of this dedicated team of specialists was to lead to the creation of specialist radio listening services in cooperation with code and cipher analysts that enabled the British armed services to prepare for Act II and through the Bletchley Park establishment, attack and win a serious and more complicated game of electronic cat and mouse.

The Armistice in November 1918 brought an end to the war and the German High Seas Fleet sailed across the North Sea to Scapa Flow for internment, escorted by ships of the Grand Fleet now commanded by Admiral Sir David Beatty. The High Seas Fleet came to anchor in the principal war station of the Royal Navy as evidence of their surrender, flying only a black flag Each ship retained on board a small crew of German Naval personnel as ‘caretakers’ in case of emergency. In June 1919 this small contingent scuttled the entire High Seas Fleet under the noses of the Royal Navy. From this inglorious and watery finale of naval activity the German ships were salvaged by a firm of Wolverhampton scrap metal merchants, Cox and Danks, who even as late as 1970 had on display outside their offices and yard in Oldbury, a pair of large calibre shells from the German battle fleet.

The conduct of the wartime operations of the Royal Navy was like the Curate’s egg, good in parts and certainly was not of the quality expected of a service in which so much money, emotional capital and political effort had been invested; but the criticism is muted. Is it because the navy’s casualties for the four years of war was less than 40,000 lives? An issue for future debate perhaps?