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MEMORIES
OF SCAPA FLOW
I joined the Royal Navy on 16th September 1916, almost fifty
years ago to the day, and went from Liverpool to Devonport
by train, there to embark on H.M.S."Powerful" which
in those days was a boys' training ship. When my training
was completed in March 1917, I was rated "Boy 1st Class".
From then things began to happen and I was drafted, along
with many other boys, to H.M.S. "Vengeance" where
we had to await dispersal to other vessels for duty at sea.
Our turn was not long in coming and I heard the rumour that
most of us were to join the Grand Fleet at Scapa Flow. Our
destination was supposed to be secret, and it eventually turned
out that we were not far out. Early one morning we were called
to "lash up" our hammocks, pack our kit bags and
assemble on the upper deck, where we found a working party
of sailors already on the quayside with huge lorries with
side railings waiting for us to load up our belongings which
we did "at the double". We then had to fix drag
ropes to the lorries and haul them to railway sidings in Devonport
Barracks where we found a train ready to take us and our kit
on the first stage of our journey which proved to be Portsmouth.
The train was a long one with two large engines to pull us
out. There were some coaches in the train which had no corridors
and we youngsters were packed in compartments one Leading
Seaman and ten boys to each. At first we seemed to be comfortable
enough and as we were eager to get to sea, we did not mind.
After what seemed a long time, we arrived at Portsmouth, where
we were given tea and a packed meal, but we were ordered not
to move from our compartment. Before long, another train appeared
in the station and was shunted about to join our train. This
train was also full of sailors. The two trains were shackled
together to make one long train then we were off (destination
unknown!), It soon became evident that we were travelling
northward, passing through Exeter and Bristol. At each big
station we were given tea and a packed meal, but not being
allowed out of the compartment for any purpose, we had to
make our own uncomfortable toilet as best we could whilst
the train was moving, sleeping as well as possible as we pushed
north. The weather seemed to be getting colder and as there
was very little heat in the train, we wrapped ourselves up
as well as we could, and with so many sailors crowded together
we managed to keep warm. After three days and nights we eventually
arrived at Thurso on the Pentland coast, where we disembarked
and marched to a canteen where we had our first hot meal and
how delicious it was. We were able to stretch our legs properly
and eat heartily after what had seemed an age. After a brief
rest, we were then told to prepare to embark on H.M.S "King
Orry" which was to transport us across the Pentland Firth
to our depot ship H.M.S. "Impereuse" in Scapa Flow.
After about four rough hours we were alongside, and again
sorted out into the required number of men and boys who had
been detailed to join various ships of the assembled fleet,
large and small. What a wonderful sight met our gaze as we
saw the number of capital ships. We went in trawlers and launches
to the ships we were to live and serve in. Great battleships,
battle cruisers, cruisers and small ships. At a guess there
were more than a hundred and fifty in the harbour and there
were still many miles of water in which ships could manoeuvre
for exercises on squadrons or flotillas. I could not get over
the thrill of excitement and the wonder of it all.
Finally, we arrived alongside my own ship H.M.S."Temeraire".
She was a battleship of 19,000 tons, with two funnels one
abaft each mast carrying ten twelve inch guns in pairs, with
five turrets, then there were four inch guns as a secondary
armament, plus one or two high angle anti aircraft guns, which
incidentally were not considered much use in those days as
there did not seem to be any call for them to be used. However,
as the War progressed, we had to use them against zeppelins
and slow types of aircraft. Our ship was coal burning and
in an eight days' steaming we usually burnt more that 2,600
tons of Welsh coal. Stocks had to be replenished each time
we returned to harbour which was, as you may gather, very
frequent. Along with other boys, I was allocated to the mess
deck situated above the after steering compartment. Mess tables
were hung from the deck head by means of steel frames hooked
on the angle irons on one end and by hooks on the table itself
on to the ship's side. The long collapsing stools on either
side were our only seats. Many hooks were fixed to the deck
head where we had to sling our hammocks, used for sleeping
when it was possible during the night, and early each morning
were lashed up and stowed to make room for movement and also
as a guard against possible splinters. Kit bags were stowed
nearly on one side of the mess deck. Woe betide anyone not
keeping them shipshape. There was not much room to move about
and in those conditions wre were to live for nearly three
years. Now came the task of fitting ourselves into the routine
of ship's life.
Action stations and drills were carried out as often as possible
in harbour, both day and night and we had to be alert for
an alarm at any time, sometimes missing a night's sleep, on
the go again at 5.30 a.m. to have hot cocoa and a ship's biscuit
sometimes full of weevils but we did not mind so much as we
were growing boys. Washing and scrubbing decks followed, with
general cleaning up; at about 7.30 a.m. breakfast which usually
consisted of "Burgoo" (porridge) with salt and water
(no sugar). Bread was allocated to each boy one quarter of
a 21b loaf to last for the day. Sometimes we had a piece of
bacon and beans and tea to drink made in a huge urn for the
whole mess, cups to drink out of were not invented in those
days for us. We used earthenware glazed basins when there
were any others used empty milk tins, glass lamp holders or
anything which would contain beverage. For a change we could
have sausages, liver, kidneys and canned herrings. Dinner
would consist of potatoes (when available), butter or haricot
beans and fresh meat. When fresh meat was not to be had, we
had salt pork or salted fish with green vegetables and some
kind of pudding for a sweet. All this we had to prepare for
the mess in turn, two boys, for two days in turn until the
rota came around again. For tea at about 4.00 p.m. we would
have some of our bread, magarine and what jam could be found.
Supper at about 7.00 p.m. was always thick cocoa and ship's
biscuits, which we had to soak in our cocoa so that we could
eat them.
All things considered, we appeared to do fairly well and none
of us suffered from malnutrition. Most of the time, if we
had money, we could buy little extras such as chocolate and
sweets from the canteen. Our day's pay, without deductions,
was 1/6d. Part of this was saved by the ship's bank to provide
a lump sum for us when we reached the age of 18 years, or
at 17 years if you passed an accelerated advancement test
for education, which I succeeded in doing during my early
yeas at sea.
This gives you some idea of our way of life, in the months
and years in the First World War and the way we were housed
and fed.
It took a little time to fall into routine, going in and out
of Scapa on convoy duties, meeting other ships on their lawful
business.
My first indication of what war really meant was when we met
H.M.S. "Drake" and "Minotaur" returning
from a brush with enemy surface vessels, and who had been
damaged during action. Our turn soon came when we, too, became
involved with surface craft and submarines, but we plodded
on, suffering no damage or casualties and remaining on duty
for four hours and then having four hours off, unless we were
actually in action. Then, of course, we were on duty all the
time. Sometimes the weather was bitterly cold and at other
times we were kept hot with so much action going on.
It
was then that I had my first taste of seasickness. We were
on convoy duty in the North Sea. The sea was rough and a howling
gale blowing. The feeling was terrible first a violent headache
and then retching which continued for four days and nights.
Really, I felt that I never wanted to see another sunrise.
Still we had to carry on with our duties as well as we could
and try to forget it. However, in all my service I was never
again seasick.
Arriving Scapa safely at last, we anchored and then had to
prepare for coaling ship. The lighter arrived alongside and
we set to, and after about fourteen hours our bunkers were
full. Then came the process of washing down the ship with
hoses inside and out scrubbing and cleaning until our officers
were satisfied, and finally washing ourselves down with more
often than not tepid water, scrubbing our clothes and drying
them as well as we could. Then it was time to "turn in"
and sleep, until we were called at 5.30 a.m. All hard work,
but worth it for a good cause.
I had not been in Scapa Flow long, when one night about eleven
o'clock we heard a loud explosion. Suddenly came the call
"All hands on deck". We scrambled from our hammocks
and rushed on deck without troubling to dress, which, of course,
was the order in any circumstances, but we were always compelled
to sleep with our lifebelts on but not inflated.
We assembled at our stations, not knowing for a time what
had happened. Rumours were flying about that we were being
attacked by zeppelins and we could see the huge glow of something
burning about half a mile from where we were anchored. Then,
another huge explosion took place and there were lumps of
metal, wood and debris flying all over the place. One huge
piece of metal dropped about twenty feet from our bow. Then
we realised that one of our ships had blown up and the metal
we had seen falling into the water was actually a twelve inch
turret.
Our ship's company prepared to lower boats, and we were told
that the H.M.S. "Vanguard" had blown up and we were
to render assistance in any way we could. Boats were lowered
and I helped to man a gig (16 foot, eight oared boat). We
were in the water picking up bodies, hammocks and anything
floating, to try to find survivors.
As
this was going on, a steamboat approached and a voice hailed:
"Are you all right?" It was the voice of Admiral
Sir David Beatty. Our commanding officer, Captain Underhill,
R.N., replied: "Yes, Sir, we seem to be under control".
With that, the steamboat passed on to other ships to find
out what the position was. For ourselves, we were searching
until daybreak but did not find life of any description. Not
until we rowed back to my ship did I realise I was clad only
in a flannel vest with a blown up lifebelt on, and how ridiculous
we must have looked. Things are always happening at sea.
There were also pleasant things to look forward to, such as
the day when our turn came to have the supply ship "Borodino"
alongside, with shops where we could buy sweetmeats and fancy
goods for personal use and to take home to our friends and
relatives.
Then there were times when concert parties were arranged by
the many ships and held on board "Borodino" with
proper stages and props, to which visiting Variety and Stage
Stars would come along and put on a show for us.
All these things helped to make our life more pleasant and
we had a lot to thank them for.
Many ways of increasing our daily war effort were being thought
out. One was the way everyone went about the task of wasting
nothing that might prove useful. Bones, fat, rags and wood,
which would normally be thrown overboard or destroyed, would
be collected and taken ashore and turned into useful war material,
which eventually formed the basis of the money which is now
known as King George V Fund for Sailors.
This was typical of life in Scapa Flow until in September
1918 my ship, together with H.M.S. "Superb" were
detailed for Special Service and so came to an end my experience
with Fourth Battle Squadron or, as we were know affectionately
the "Wobbly Eight".
The next time I visited Scapa was when I was serving as a
Leading Seaman in H.M.S. "Ramillies" in 1921. There
was a more peaceful atmosphere in the "flow" then,
as the German Fleet had been scuttled and were resting on
the bottom, some overturned, others sank upright. It gave
me quite a sad feeling to see these lovely ships lying as
though in a graveyard, but it gave me the opportunity to reflect,
as we helped to salvage work on board the "Derflinger",
"Bayern" and "Seylidge" "These could
have been our ships".
I was in Scapa again at the end of 1921. This time I was in
H.M.S. "Valhalla" (a destroyer) and the same treeless,
forbidding, dirty grey and brown outlook of sea and land was
familiar, as we worked up on exercise and drills, prior to
being sent for duty in the Home Fleet. Yet there was no war
to worry about for a change.
I have been in Scapa on many occasions since, both with "Hood",
"Glorious", "Vidette" and "Foresight"
again using the "Flow" for "working up"
periods. But in the early summer of 1939 I commissioned in
H.M.S. "Repulse" as Chief Boatswain's Mate, after
refit and alterations to go back to Scapa for a "working
up" period and painting, before going to Canada with
His Majesty King George VI and the Queen. But we were disappointed
at not being able to take the Royal Family in our ship because
of the war clouds hovering over the land. Instead, we prepared
for war and again made Scapa Flow our base.
Late in August 1939 we put to sea with the Home Fleet for
exercises and manoeuvres in the Denmark Straits whilst awaiting
further orders which we had some idea might be serious. War
was declared with Germany on Sunday 3rd September and we were
soon dispersed to battle positions, each unit of the fleet
going in turn to provision and fuel. We waited for something
to come our way which might bring us into contact with the
enemy and we were kept busy all the time.
In October we were ordered to return to Scapa where we were
to fuel. Then we went to Rosyth for bottom scraping which
was to take three days. On our way out towards the Boom Defence
we saw H.M.S. "Royal Oak" at anchor almost under
the cliffs. We gave them a wave and some of our officers saluted,
although it was nearly dark, and we quickly made our way down
to Rosyth. Shortly afterwards we received a signal to say
that "Royal Oak" had been sunk.
We returned to our base in Scapa two months after it had been
pronounced safe and clear of submarines. New sea defences
had been placed, and it was considered that we could use the
"Flow" again. By this time some new ships had arrived
and were lying at anchor some distance from the main fleet.
They had been made to look like an assortment of warships,
made mainly of wood and camouflaged. From a distance they
looked like the real thing. Unfortunately,. I had to go the
Hospital Ship "Amarapoora" for an operation in Scapa
where I was on my back for ten days. It was there that I met
Tommy Trinder who was putting on a show in the wards. Whilst
I was incapacitated, the remainder of the fleet had put to
sea. Not long after they left, Scapa Flow was bombed by enemy
aircraft. Several near misses were recorded, and being so
helpless as I was I was scared because we could not hit back.
Bombs were dropped on the dummy fleet and I was told afterwards
that it was strange how some of the turrets and guns floated
away. I was very soon fit to join the "Repulse"
again after their sortie at sea, and I was glad to be in the
fight again. Soon afterwards we had news from Admiralty that
the German warships "Bismarck" and "Prinz Eugen"
had left harbour and were in the North Sea. The Home Fleet
secured for sea and left harbour with speed, in rotation.
It was a wonderful sight to see these fine ships leaving for
action, led by destroyers and cruisers, the mighty "Hood"
and "Prince of Wales" and a host of other vessels.
But I am sorry to say that was the last time I saw the "Hood".
My time in "Repulse" was drawing to a close. We
were very short of Chief Petty Officer Director Layers and
as new ships were being built and commissioned, men with sea
experience were encouraged to transfer, when possible, to
the new ships. Thus I found myself drafted from "Repulse"
to H.M.S. "Duke of York" and Scapa again, getting
ourselves in fighting trim, going on convoy duties and searching
for the enemy. We went into the Artic regions, west in the
Atlantic and south to the equator and beyond usually ending
up in Scapa. I
was a member of the Committee set up by the Royal Naval Benevolent
Trust to organise Canteen and Welfare affairs on the island
in Scapa when we were not at sea. Some good work was done
by these volunteers in their own time, and it was most gratifying
to know that men who had been at sea for weeks could relax
for a while in the Canteens and Cinema Halls, and if they
wished, could play football and other games when the weather
was decent. No effort was spared on the part of the Naval
Authorities to make life worth while. We could sail or row,
in a cutter or whaler, go fishing and seining when we were
not on duty. Regattas were held when it was possible. In fact,
we made the best possible use of the time spent in harbour.
In time, I was promoted, and had to leave "Duke of York".
After a course in Portsmouth, I came again to familiar surroundings.
This time as Boatswain in H.M.S. "Valiant". I was
getting used to the routine of "working up" in the
"Flow" but not for long! I was soon in the open
sea, but I had no idea that I was seeing Scapa Flow for the
last time in nearly thirty years' service in the Royal Navy.
I wouldn't mind seeing the old place again sometime, for I
have had many happy hours there. The unpleasant hours one
can try to forget.
14th September 1966
(JOHN HORNBY, B.E.M.). |
