Saturday, August 10, 2019

Against All Odds

A photograph of Glowworm taken from Admiral Hipper, 8 April 1940. Glowworm is making smoke.
The annals of military history are replete with tales of small bands of warriors making a stand against superior numbers. There are also tales of brave warriors launching themselves into an attack which they may realize has little hope of success. Yet they do it anyway.

Horatius at the bridge, apocryphal or not, is the tale of three Roman soldiers making a desperate stand at a bridge across the Tiber River, holding off a vastly larger force of Etruscans as their comrades destroy the bridge behind them to deny the enemy an easy path into Rome.

The valiant stand of Leonidas at Thermopylae is a well known (if not always accurately portrayed in film) tale of sacrificial valor to gain time, leading to the eventual defeat of the invading Persians of Xerxes I.

Warriors do not normally go into battle with the idea of sacrificing themselves, though they know that the outcome of combat may indeed require their lives and the lives of those they lead. In the heat of the moment, they do the jobs they were trained to do. There are, however, extraordinary situations where a deliberate decision is made to continue on, at all costs, to hazard all, knowing that the most probable outcome is death. They press on, regardless.

On such small things, battles (and wars) are won.

I have two such tales to relate to you this day, instances of bravery so above and beyond the call of duty that the enemy recommended these warriors for decorations of valor. In once instance, the act of valor was witnessed only by the foe, no friendly forces were on scene. Only the enemy lived to tell the tale.

HMS Glowworm versus DKM Admiral Hipper

During the Norwegian Campaign in the spring of 1940, HMS Glowworm (Lieutenant Commander Gerard Roope commanding) had been escorting the battlecruiser HMS Renown covering mine laying operations off the coast of Norway, when she was detached to search for a man who had gone overboard.

On her way to rejoin the Renown task force, she encountered two German destroyers, Z11* Bernd von Arnim and Z18 Hans Lüdemann, part of a group of German ships headed to Norway to land troops at Trondheim. The group was led by the German heavy cruiser Admiral Hipper.
Glowworm opened fire and the German destroyers attempted to disengage, signalling for help. The request was soon answered by Admiral Hipper which spotted Glowworm at 09:50. Hipper initially had difficulty in distinguishing Glowworm from von Arnim, but opened fire eight minutes later at a range of 9,200 yd with her 8.0 inch main guns. Glowworm was hit by Hipper's fourth salvo and she started making smoke. She turned into her own smoke in an attempt to break visual contact with Hipper, but the cruiser's radar-directed guns were not affected by the smoke. When the destroyer emerged from her smoke the range was now short enough that the cruiser's 10.5-centimetre guns could fire. Glowworm's radio room, bridge, and forward 4.7-inch gun were all destroyed, and she received additional hits in the engine room, the captain's day cabin, and finally the mast. As this crashed down, it caused a short circuit of the wiring, causing the ship's siren to start a banshee wail.

At 10:10, Lieutenant Commander Gerard Broadmead Roope fired five torpedoes from one mounting at a range of 870 yards, but all missed because Captain Hellmuth Heye had kept Hipper's bow pointed at Glowworm throughout the battle to minimize his risk from torpedoes. The destroyer fell back through her smoke screen to buy time to get her second torpedo mount working, but Heye followed Glowworm through the smoke to finish her off before she could fire the rest of her torpedoes. The two ships were very close when Hipper emerged from the smoke and Roope ordered a hard turn to starboard to reduce the range and possibly ram the cruiser. Hipper was slow to answer her helm and Glowworm struck the cruiser just abaft the anchor. The collision broke off Glowworm's bow and the rest of the ship scraped along Hipper's side, gouging open several holes in the latter's hull and destroying her forward starboard torpedo mounting. One German sailor was knocked overboard by the collision. Hipper took on some 490 tons of water before the leaks could be isolated, but was not seriously damaged. Glowworm was on fire when she drifted clear and her boilers exploded at 10:24, taking 109 of her crew with her.
Admiral Hipper hove to in order to rescue her man overboard and Glowworm's survivors. The German sailor was not found, but 40 British sailors were recovered, although at least six later died of their wounds. Lieutenant Ramsay, the senior surviving officer, told his rescuers that neither the helm nor the emergency rudder were manned when the ships collided so the destroyer's turn towards Hipper was probably accidental. German accounts only mention four torpedoes fired by Glowworm, but British accounts say all ten were fired. This was confirmed by photographic evidence taken after the collision showing all of her torpedo tubes empty.
Roope, who drowned when he could no longer hang on to a rope whilst being pulled up the side of the cruiser, was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross, thus becoming the first VC recipient of the Second World War. The award was justified, in part, by the recommendation of Heye, who wrote to the British authorities via the Red Cross, giving a statement of the valiant courage Roope had shown when engaging a much superior ship in close battle. (Source)
Lieutenant Commander Gerard Broadmead Roope, Royal Navy
The KING has been graciously pleased to approve the award of the VICTORIA CROSS for valour to:—
The late Lieutenant-Commander Gerard Broadmead ROOPE, Royal Navy. On the 8th April, 1940, H.M.S. Glowworm was proceeding alone in heavy weather towards a rendezvous in West Fjord, when she met and engaged two enemy destroyers, scoring at least one hit on them. The enemy broke off the action and headed North, to lead the Glowworm on to his supporting forces. The Commanding Officer, whilst correctly appreciating the intentions of the enemy, at once gave chase. The German heavy cruiser, Admiral Hipper, was sighted closing the Glowworm at high speed and an enemy report was sent which was received by H.M.S. Renown. Because of the heavy sea, the Glowworm could not shadow the enemy and the Commanding Officer therefore decided to attack with torpedoes and then to close in order to inflict as much damage as possible. Five torpedoes were fired and later the remaining five, but without success. The Glowworm was badly hit; one gun was out of action and her speed was much reduced, but with the other three guns still firing she closed and rammed the Admiral Hipper. As the Glowworm drew away, she opened fire again and scored one hit at a range of 400 yards. The Glowworm, badly stove in forward and riddled with enemy fire, heeled over to starboard, and the Commanding Officer gave the order to abandon her. Shortly afterwards she capsized and sank. The Admiral Hipper hove to for at least an hour picking up survivors but the loss of life was heavy, only 31 out of the Glowworm's complement of 149 being saved.
Full information concerning this action has only recently been received and the VICTORIA CROSS is bestowed in recognition of the great valour of the Commanding Officer who, after fighting off a superior force of destroyers, sought out and reported a powerful enemy unit, and then fought his ship to the end against overwhelming odds, finally ramming the enemy with supreme coolness and skill.

Royal Air Force B-24 versus German Submarine U-468

American-made B-24 Liberator bombers were used extensively for maritime patrol due to their long range. They eventually proved to be of great value in eliminating the U-Boat threat and winning the Battle of the Atlantic.

No. 200 Squadron, Royal Air Force, was based in West Africa, where it flew convoy protection patrols along that stretch of the African coast. Flying Officer Lloyd Trigg of the Royal New Zealand Air Force was assigned to that squadron in November of 1942.
He was posted to West Africa in November 1942 and joined 200 Squadron RAF in January 1943. As a first pilot he took part in over 46 operational reconnaissance patrols, convoy escort flights and anti-submarine patrols. Having previously operated Hudsons, the squadron later converted to the maritime version of the B-24 Liberator. He was an experienced pilot (he had already been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross) having been involved in two attacks against U-boats in February 1943.

He was flying his first operational flight in a Liberator V over the Atlantic from his base at Yundumn, West Africa (now Banjul, The Gambia), when on 11 August 1943 he engaged the German submarine U-468 under the command of Oberleutnant Klemens Schamong. His aircraft received several catastrophic hits from the submarine's anti-aircraft guns during its approach to the submarine and was on fire as Trigg made his final attack.

After dropping its depth charges, Trigg's Liberator crashed 300 yards behind its victim, killing Trigg and his crew. The only witnesses to Trigg's actions were the U-boat crew members. The badly damaged U-boat sank soon after the attack but a small group of survivors (including Schamong) were spotted by an RAF Short Sunderland of No. 204 Squadron in the dinghy of the crashed Liberator, drifting off the coast of West Africa. They were rescued by a Royal Navy vessel HMS Clakia the next day, and the German crew reported the incident, recommending Trigg be decorated for his bravery. On 2 November 1943, Trigg was awarded the Victoria Cross for his actions.
(Source)
Flying Officer Lloyd Trigg, Royal New Zealand Air Force
Air Ministry, 2nd November, 1943.
The KING has been graciously pleased to confer the VICTORIA CROSS on the undermentioned officer in recognition of most conspicuous bravery: —
Flying Officer Lloyd Allan TRIGG, D.F.C. (N.Z.413515), Royal New Zealand Air Force (missing, believed killed), No. 200 Squadron.
Flying Officer Trigg had rendered outstanding service on convoy escort and antisubmarine duties. He had completed 46 operational sorties and had invariably displayed skill and courage of a very high order. One day in August 1943, Flying Officer Trigg undertook, as captain and pilot, a patrol in a Liberator although he had not previously made any operational sorties in that type of aircraft. After searching for 8 hours a surfaced U-boat was sighted. Flying Officer Trigg immediately prepared to attack. During the approach, the aircraft received many hits from the submarine's anti-aircraft guns and burst into flames, which quickly enveloped the tail. The moment was critical. Flying Officer Trigg could have broken off the engagement and made a forced landing in the sea. But if he continued the attack, the aircraft would present a "no deflection" target to deadly accurate anti-aircraft fire, and every second spent in the air would increase the extent and intensity of the flames and diminish his chances of survival. There could have been no hesitation or doubt in his mind. He maintained his course in spite of the already precarious condition of his aircraft and executed a masterly attack. Skimming over the U-boat at less than 50 feet with anti-aircraft fire entering his opened bomb doors, Flying Officer Trigg dropped his bombs on and around the U-boat where they exploded with devastating effect. A short distance further on the Liberator dived into the sea with her gallant captain and crew. The U-boat sank within 20 minutes and some of her crew were picked up later in a rubber dinghy that had broken loose from the Liberator. The Battle of the Atlantic has yielded many fine stories of air attacks on underwater craft, but Flying Officer Trigg's exploit stands out as an epic of grim determination and high courage. His was the path of duty that leads to glory.
Great bravery against long odds.
And in the nights of winter, when the cold north winds blow,
And the long howling of the wolves is heard amidst the snow;
When round the lonely cottage roars loud the tempest's din,
And the good logs of Algidus roar louder yet within;
When the oldest cask is opened, and the largest lamp is lit;
When the chestnuts glow in the embers, and the kid turns on the spit;
When young and old in circle around the firebrands close;
When the girls are weaving baskets and the lads are shaping bows
When the goodman mends his armour, and trims his helmet's plume,
And the goodwife's shuttle merrily goes flashing through the loom;
With weeping and with laughter still is the story told,
How well Horatius kept the bridge in the brave days of old. 
From 'Horatius at the Bridge' by Thomas Babington Macaulay
It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived. - George S. Patton, Jr. US Army

Remember them...




* Z11 stands for Zerstörer 11, or Destroyer 11.

34 comments:

  1. Hey Old AFSarge;
    I remember the Glowworm incident, but not the B-24 incident. It is something when your bravery is recommended by your foes. As far as the glowworm incident, the German navy was the least "Nazified" of the services and a lot of the senior officers were around in the first big dustup in WWI and there was almost a code of chivalry amongst the people fighting it. P.S YAY I am first :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I only learned of FO Trigg while researching the HMS Glowworm fight.

      Delete
  2. As a Cockney commentator might say, “Tenacious little bleeders, aren’t we”!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You can knock 'em down, but you can't keep 'em down!

      Delete
  3. What courage was shown by both officers, Glowworm maybe 1,500 tons vs 16,000 tons for the Admiral Hipper. Thirty four of the Glowworm's crew survived as did seven of the U-boat. After fighting each other the survivors then had to contend with the sea. Flying Officer Trigg's action was unknown to me as well. A sobering post and well done Sarge. That first photo really set the stage.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I agree with Mr.Garabaldi. When your enemies admire your courage, that says something.

    Reminds me of Wing Commander R. S. Tuck. After a rhubarb mission, he crashed just beyond the gun emplacement he had strafed. When the Germans drug him back to the destroyed mount, he thought he was done. They stepped over their dead and showed him where one of his bullets had entered the muzzle and bulged out the barrel. "Good shot, Englisher!!"

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. War is horrible enough I suppose, acknowledging courage is right and proper. No matter the uniform.

      Delete
  5. I always refer to wows rammings as to Glowworm maneuver...

    ReplyDelete
  6. I think we should all be thankful the Germans didn’t have a larger Navy.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes indeed, they were far too good at war.

      Delete
    2. It is very good that the French Fleet pretty much stayed out of the fight, and didn't get taken over by the Germans. The French naval bases, yes, the ships, not so much.

      Very fortunately.

      Good post, by the way.

      Delete
    3. French sank much of their fleet proving that entire tragedy of Catapult was pointless...

      Delete
  7. One wonders where Jerry Pournelle came up with Sauron System. Only last night I watched Rorke's Drift, again. We live in an age where mother's command such ships and one wonders if the outcome will be the same. I doubt it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I often share your doubts Cap'n. Sometimes I even lose sleep over such thoughts.

      Delete
    2. @Curtis&OAFS/

      I share your fears also...alas I'm afraid that the throw-away line by the obsequious maitre'd in Ferris Bueller's Day Off ("I weep for the future") may prove all too true..

      Delete
    3. Frightening just barely starts to cover it.

      Delete
  8. Also, Liberators were too late and initially too few allocated to ASW duty. Coastal command was stepchild of RAF, and USAF wanted as many as possible for the strategic bombing... When the dreaded Black pit was extending outside the operating radius of existing patrol planes until end of 1942.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That gap cost many a fine ship.

      Delete
    2. The Southerland was a fine flying boat, it just didn't have the range of the Liberators nor the payload. The use of Jeep carriers closed that gap, along with long range escorts from Greenland. Still, way too many lost to poor tactics by the allies.

      Now, for real lingering ASW work, the US Navy blimps were a great asset. Worked well in areas one doesn't have to worry about enemy air assets reaching.

      My dad knew a couple old time WWII and Cold War era blimp pilots (ASW for WWII, Radar picket for CW.) Seems the slow and fat fliers liked to indulge in practical jokes, like running on the beach with the 'landing gear' wheel so a crewmember could go to a hamburger shack for lunch for the crew. Things like that. Helium must affect the weirdness center of the brain.

      Delete
    3. As we discussed earlier it all comes down in the end to logistics and the head shed making decisions as to 'who gets what and when do they get it'. The VLR Liberator was a vital asset but there weren't enough to go round so decisions had to be thrashed out as to who got them. Inevitably someone would be unhappy. The 'air gap' in the Atlantic was a problem that was not helped by the fact that 'Bomber Harris' would not let any aircraft be reassigned from Bomber Command to Coastal Command. The Lancaster was used in the immediate WW2 era by Coastal Command and evolved into the Shackleton. A wing or two of them in 1942-3 would have helped the ASW effort immeasurably. AS Beans said the Sunderland was a fine flying boat, the Germans called it the 'Flying Porcupine'. I vaguely knew someone who flew them during the war. It must have been a strange experience. Long missions and quite often the crews flew off and never returned and no one knew what had happened. As the say 99.99% recurring of boredom and 0.0001% of abject terror.
      Retired

      Delete
    4. I didn't know that about Harris, not one of my favorite people.

      Delete
  9. I’ve seen that Glowworm photo before, though I cannot remember where.

    Had I been onboard, it would have been a “fetch me my brown pants!” kind of day. No way do I have the stones for that kind of action, against an inescapable superior foe...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You never know until you get in a situation just what you're capable of. I'm sure LCDR Roope and FO Trigg may have felt the same, until the day they were called upon.

      Delete
  10. Hence the wisdom of guerilla warfare. The object is not to die for your country but to help the other fellow die for his country. And if he dies well and courageously, honor him for it. But still make him die for his country.

    ReplyDelete

Just be polite... that's all I ask. (For Buck)
Can't be nice, go somewhere else...

NOTE: Comments on posts over 5 days old go into moderation, automatically.