The Sinking of The Bismarck

CHAPTER VIII

PROTECTION OF OUR EXPEDITIONS CROSSING THE SEA.

During the period from 1920 to 1938 a good deal of discussion took place at the Naval Staff College on the actions and inaction of the German Fleet during the four years, 1914-18. It is not widely appreciated that the German Battle Fleet on occasions was little, if at all, inferior to the British Fleet at Scapa. The reason for this was that although the British Fleet was superior in total numbers the Germans could choose their day to put to sea and could, therefore, sail with the whole of their fleet: the British, on the other hand, could not choose their day but had always to be ready to meet the German Fleet should it come to sea; thus a proportion of the British Fleet had always to be away docking and refitting.

Yet what did the Germans do with their great fleet? They surrendered it--every ship--at the end of the conflict, without firing a shot. If the Kaiser had been a little less proud of possessing his ships of war, if he and his friends had been a little less land-minded and a bit more ocean-minded, the German Fleet might well have given Britain some nasty headaches. Just imagine, for instance, what might have occurred if they had bent their whole effort to destroy British shipping: if the High Seas Fleet as well as their submarines had concentrated upon the single object of cutting our lines of communication across the Atlantic. Suppose they had sent into the Atlantic one or two battleships or heavy cruisers at a time to operate against our convoys in zones not then being toured by their submarines. We could only have defended our ships by using an escorting force superior to the one sent out by the enemy. The only other alternative would have been to stop sailing our convoys, and this was out of the question.

Usually there were some three or four convoys at sea in the North Atlantic at any one time. If, then, three convoys had to be defended against enemy battleship attack, we had either to detach from the main fleet some four to six battleships for escort duty and make our fleet inferior to the German Fleet, or we had to sail our convoys and hope for the best. To have reduced the strength of our battle fleet by six battleships would have made the Germans the superior fleet in home waters, or in other words the mastery of the lines of communication in home waters would have passed to Germany, an unthinkable proposition. It follows that the dispatch of a few major German ships into the Atlantic might well have had the most serious consequences on our whole position at sea, particularly when it is recollected that in 1917 the Germans came within an ace of doing us vital damage with their submarines alone.

These were thoughts that came to us during and after the last war. Surely they must also have occurred to the jolly Hun. When war broke out in 1939 we anticipated heavy raider attacks and it was for this reason that the Admiralty had fought year after year, during the inglorious period of 1918-38, for a fleet with not less than seventy cruisers. We actually started the war with a little over fifty and most of these were built for a war in the North Sea, and not for a conflict on the oceans. The possibility that Germany might have a number of 8-in. cruisers capable of going on to our trade routes was the Admiralty's nightmare once Hitler got into the saddle. To guard against this eventuality we approached Germany after the 1935 Naval Conference and got a naval agreement on the subject of shipbuilding and the 8-in. cruisers, the commerce destroyers, in particular.

With the collapse of France in 1940 and the entry of Italy into the war our position became almost desperate. It seemed that the Germans simply could not miss the opportunity presented to them. Our convoys were armadas of sixty and more ships steaming slowly across the oceans at six knots. They were being sailed under the protection of a cruiser at best and in certain waters by a wholly inadequate number of escort vessels. Their movements over the eastern half of the Atlantic must have been known at the German Admiralty as their submarines and Focke-Wulf aircraft kept reporting them. What ripe fruit, if a little enterprise had been shown! We no longer had a fleet of capital ships: we were watching the North Sea and the Mediterranean with squadrons, not fleets, and we were stretched to the absolute limit.

In Force 'H' at Gibraltar we used to discuss the chances of a German sortie and a retirement through the Straits of Gibraltar into the Italian ports. Such reinforcement might have galvanized the Italian Fleet to action and to battle with our already inferior Mediterranean Fleet. The recollection of how Turkey behaved when the Goeben and Breslau took sanctuary in the Bosphorus in the early days of the last war made us realize what might occur if a German Squadron were to join the Italian fleet.

Force H - Renown, Ark Royal and Sheffield

How could a German entry into the Mediterranean be prevented in those days of 1941? The soldiers in Gibraltar were digging tunnels in the Rock and, with the guns and control arrangements they possessed, they could not have interfered with a night passage of enemy ships along the African shore.

There was no force of aircraft at the Rock. The question of building a proper aerodrome on the North Front had gone to and fro as the various reporting officers advised to build and then not to build. It was still no more than a rough-and-ready H.Q. for the disembarked aircraft from the Ark Royal. The old racecourse had not quite been lost to the racegoers, though the F.A.A. staffs had turned the race-course stand into a temporary mess for the officers and the horse-boxes were being used for stores!

Then there was Force 'H', consisting of a battle cruiser, the Renown, built before naval artillery valued long ranges, the Ark Royal, Sheffield, a 6in. cruiser, and some destroyers when they could be made available from convoy escort duties. The state of the Renown was none too healthy. Some while before when steaming into a head sea her blister on one side had been damaged and partly torn off. The aircraft circling the Ark on their return from a flight had one after the other dipped low when passing to have a look at the damage. The Admiral soon made a signal asking why there was so much interest, ending with,'Is there something sticking out of father's pants?' The Ark's reply was: 'Submit you flatter yourself, it is only hanging out.

The Ark Royal was not in much better trim. Some time before an aircraft going out on anti-submarine patrol with two depth charges had been accelerated over the bows and had struck the sea. The depth charges had gone down and as the ship went over the wreck they exploded underneath, with the result that frames in the warhead magazine were badly distorted, the hull had been pushed in and only by the use of cement could the water be kept out; in fact the water had even then collected in the flour store further aft and had made it impossible to use it. She had steamed close on 100,000 miles. The propeller shafts had become so worn and the vibration so great that hatches had to be screwed down every watch. Fourteen internal plates had cracked and had been welded up, a shipwright was continually caulking and welding loose rivets, and on two occasions the stern gland of the centre shaft had blown out. The stern compartment had been flooded and repair had been effected by blowing the sea out with compressed air pumped into the compartment, and one man had been passed into the compartment by air-lock to remake the gland. The port main inlet for admitting the sea to the condenser was jammed open and could not be put to rights without the ship being docked. Added to this she seldom had more than twenty-four reconnaissance aircraft and fourteen fighters on board out of the total of the sixty aircraft she could have carried because of the shortage of fleet air arm aircraft. But her crews had been flying over water all through the war and they were probably the best trained crews in the world--a reconnaissance squadron that averaged more than thirty seconds between the landing of one aircraft and the arrival of the next took itself to task. What is more, the pilot that took longest to land on had to stand drinks to his squadron mates.

The destroyers were being run off their feet owing to the lack of anti- submarine escorts and looked upon Gibraltar as little more than a place for getting a bit more oil and food.

But Force 'H' was a highly efficient force. A puff of smoke from a funnel and the flagship wanted to know the reason why. A delay in landing aircraft and a signal giving the reason why, was expected before the question had even been asked by the flagship. Our Admiral almost lived on board each one of his ships. There was no four days' delay in the Central Registry! And with these signals of corrections, these spurs, there also passed a host of friendly and amusing signals. I remember at dusk one evening on our return from a sweep in the direction of Ireland we had the last anti-submarine patrols to fly on board. It was calm and hardly a ripple disturbed the leaden sea under the grey sky. But there appeared to be a little wind from the north-west. So prior to landing on the Ark we made the usual into-wind course and speed signal 'Course 315 degrees speed 24 knots', almost the opposite direction to the one we were making for Gib. When hauling down the executive signal for the turn the Admiral had to ask: 'What are you looking for a cat's paw?' As we turned into wind we found there was as much as four knots of wind from 315 degrees which gave us a wind speed over the deck of twenty-eight knots. So a reply had to be made: 'No. It was for four knots of wind which is the cat's whisker.' A moment later and flying from the masthead of the flagship we read the signal 'alphabetical MEOW'.

Signals of congratulation also came in when news was received that the Admiral had been given a second knighthood, one of which ended with: 'Fancy twice a night and at your age too.

So Force 'H' was an alert and alive body in which there was pride of force and much friendliness.

To this force, or rather its Admiral, in Gibraltar harbour there came the news on the 23rd May that the two 8-in. cruisers Suffolk and Norfolk had sighted the battleship Bismarck and the 8-in. cruiser Prince Eugen in the Denmark Strait, north-west of Iceland and that they were shadowing them on a course into the Atlantic at a speed of twenty-five knots.

The threat to our six-knot armadas in the Atlantic was acute, and where would these enemy ships return to? Norway, Brest, the Mediterranean? Or would they go to the South Atlantic? Force 'H' was certainly no match for this sortie in gun power. Renown would engage the Eugen if found singly, but she might not even get within range of the Bismarck. In fact later on a signal was made by the Admiralty saying that Renown must in no circumstance get herself involved in a battle with the Bismarck. The aircraft in the Ark alone could be relied upon to attack and damage the enemy should they make for the Mediterranean.

However, about 10 p.m. on the evening of the 23d May orders came from the Admiralty for Force 'H' to sail and proceed towards the Bay of Biscay with all dispatch. By 2 a.m. the force was at sea. The destroyers left first, slipping from their pens in the north end of the harbour at 0030; they carried out their anti-submarine sweep of the Bay and its approaches and then returned to meet and escort the big ships as they emerged from harbour.

The Ark sailed at 2 a.m., being hauled off the wall by tugs, until in a position to go ahead and pass silently along the detached mole with the merchant ships lying there, and then out through the northern entrance. On clearing the mole she swung her head west and then southward down the mine-searched channel and out of Algeciras Bay into the Straits. The destroyers, silent dark shapes in the night, closed in around her, to give her protection against any submarine that might be lurking there.

As the Rock was passed the silhouette of the Renown could be seen sliding past the lights of Gibraltar and making her way to sea. Through our glasses we could see her black shape pass the entrance and turn down towards us, and as her speed increased her white bow wave became clearer and clearer. She approached our starboard quarter and on reaching the turning point we saw her alter course for the Atlantic. There were no signals, our orders being quite clear, so over went our helm, and at twenty-five knots we followed the Renown out to the westward. Through our glasses we could pick out the destroyer screen in station around us. Force 'H' was off to have the best of a few rounds with German's first serious challenge with surface ships against the sea lines of communication of Britain in the Atlantic. If the Bismarck could be sunk it might well put a stop to any further enterprises of this kind. If she got away, not only would serious losses be inflicted on our shipping, but a critical situation might be reached in the war with the Germans and the Italians, to say nothing of repercussions in the Far East.

It was blowing freshly from the west and visibility was none too good. A couple of quick alterations of course had to be made to avoid running down fishing craft whose lights were only shown at the very last minute. We wondered whether the enemy spies in Algeciras had seen us. By arrangement with the Spaniards the territory on the Spanish side of the North Front of Gibraltar was flood-lit, ostensibly to give the Spaniards warning of an invasion of Spain by the garrison of the Rock, but in fact to throw into relief any ship that left the northern entrance of the harbour so that the Germans and Italians in Algeciras could report the movement of ships at Gibraltar to Berlin and Rome. Certainly the Germans in Ceuta (the long row of lights on the African shore opposite Gibraltar) would not have seen us, the night was too dark for that. Soon the lights of Algeciras were shut out by the hills that lead to Tariffa, and the dim lights of Gibraltar faded out over our wake astern. To our southward the coast of Monkey Hill could be clearly seen against the sky, then the lights of Tangier came into view, came abreast and passed away on the port quarter as we made our way at high speed to the open ocean. Before dawn the lands of Spain and Africa were below the horizon and only an odd Spanish trawler we passed could make our movement into the Atlantic known to the enemy.

The position of Force 'H' at Gibraltar in 1941 was one that the captains of 140 years ago might have found peculiar. Not only were there enemy agents in all the country around, but they were installing coast defence batteries on both sides of the Straits to cover the passage of any ship through the Straits; batteries were being built to engage the Rock itself, and aerodromes with supplies were being established for the benefit of those who wished to close to us the western entry into the Mediterranean. Our authority in international Tangiers had been removed and Spaniards ruled there under the direction of a German Commission. Italian submarines lay in Tangier when the chase by British ships became too hot. Talk over the binnacle that night reached the conclusion that it was time the Moroccos became a base for a Western European Air Force and that the Foreign Legion should give security to the bases of such an air force.

The night's lie down was not for long. By 5 a.m. the first streak of dawn began to show to the eastward, and on board the Ark, aircraft with folded wings could just be seen coming up the lift to be wheeled aft along the flying deck. These were the two anti-submarine patrols--and one spare in case of engine failure--that must take off at first light. These patrols go on all day with changes of aircraft every two hours; after two hours the value of the look-out deteriorates rapidly.

One of the aircraft searches the waters well ahead of the force and the other immediately in front of the ships. Backwards and forwards they go, watching continuously for a conning-tower or periscope track, ready to dive and drop their depth charges and warn ships by signal so that they can alter course and avoid the area. It is a dull job, hour after hour, up and down, looking and looking, flying thousands and thousands of miles without getting a sighting. But it is essential all the same, if only to force the submarine to submerge and remain submerged while the ships pass by.

Perhaps the anti-submarine patrol typifies the differences between normal air operations and operations with and against ships. Aircraft not employed on naval duties usually go up for a show--a fight or a bombardment. Craft that operate against ships either churn water or churn air most of the time and the big show--the battle--comes but rarely. And because every trade moulds its apprentices, those that work with or against ships develop an outlook that is different from their brothers operating against land objectives.

Ten minutes before the aircraft of the A/S patrol were due to take off, the flying deck officer would report to the bridge that there would be no delay in the take-off of the patrol. A signal would then be made to the flagship giving the course to be steered into the wind and the speed required to fly off the aircraft. On that morning of the 24th May little alteration was necessary as the wind was blowing freshly from the direction in which we were steaming. The executive signal for the alteration was made by the flagship, the ships altered course into wind, and in a few seconds the aircraft were off, making their way to the van to take up their patrols. Two hours later they took good care to be within sight of the Ark, and as she turned to fly off the next pair, the two on patrol were recalled by signal lamp. In another couple of minutes they were on board. The weather conditions were good for this first landing. The wind had risen a good deal and there were plenty of white horses, but it requires quite a sea to make an 800-foot long carrier move about very much. But as the day passed the sea increased and the landings became less easy. However, by dusk twelve out of the twenty two Swordfish aircraft on board had had a two hours' run without incident.

After clearing the Straits, Force 'H' had altered course a little to the northward, but not so much as to bring it within sight of Cape St. Vincent. At 8 a.m. signals were intercepted which made it dear that the cruisers Suffolk and Norfolk, shadowing the Bismarck, had seen the Hood and the Prince of Wales go into action and the Hood had blown up: the Prince of wales also had been damaged. The business had been over in a matter of a few minutes. A lucky shot from the Bismarck had dodged the armour installed in late years in the Hood and had blown up her anti-aircraft magazine. In a moment the finest-looking ship afloat had been blown in half. Designed in 1913 she was no match for the modern ship firing projectiles that demanded a five- or six-inch deck.

Once again we were to learn that you can no more do battle with antiquated ships at sea than you can with obsolete guns on shore. If the state insists in days of peace that 'Butter is more important than guns' then they must run the risk of defeat when war comes, and the people must be prepared to mourn. Great ships take over three years to build and they need a year to overcome their teething troubles and get into fighting trim. It is too late to think of building when the clouds of war begin to gather--the storm is likely to be upon us before the machinery of Government has even got so far as placing the orders for the guns.

The situation so far as we could make out at this time was that the two enemy ships were steaming at twenty-five knots into the North Atlantic. The Hood had gone, the Prince of wales was damaged, but in the vicinity. The two 8-in. cruisers were still shadowing, one on either quarter of the Bismarck and Prince Eugen, so that whichever way the enemy turned they would not be lost. The aircraft carrier Victorious was to the south and westward of Iceland, possibly 200 miles from the enemy, and the Commander-in-Chief of the Home Fleet on board the King George V with Rodney in company, was somewhere in the same locality. To the southward there was a large convoy steaming north in the direction of trouble, with the 8-in. cruiser Dorsetshire in company.

At this juncture it was clear that the Commander-in-Chief in King George V could not make any signal for the direction of operations as any wireless signal he made would disclose his whereabouts to the enemy. It was no surprise to us, therefore, to hear the Admiralty say that unless they received a signal from the C.-in-C. to the contrary, the Admiralty would direct the operations against the Bismarck. It was a good example of how impossible it is to direct operations in the opening phases of an ocean conflict from anywhere except a headquarters on shore. It is a lesson that our gallant commanders have in the past not been glad to learn, because they realized how futile it is for the shore headquarters to interfere in the battle when it begins, and they wanted to be in at the fight.

All through the 24th May, the wind from west-north-west freshened and the destroyers began to take in seas over their fo'c'sles. The Renown too, with her low fo'c'sle and quarter-deck, appeared to be making pretty heavy weather, and certainly no man could have remained for long at either end of the ship. The sky had changed from white and blue to grey and there was clearly promise of a hard blow to come. With the landing on of the last A/S Patrol and the closing in of night the destroyers were told to return to Gibraltar as to have kept them with us would have meant delay, and by dawn we were likely to be more or less clear of the most dangerous submarine area.

Shortly after 10 p.m. we learnt that the newly commissioned Victorious had flown off a striking force of nine Swordfish, all the torpedo-dropping aircraft she had been able to embark before sailing. Their attack, launched at 120 miles from the enemy, with a group of aircraft as yet untrained as a striking force, was pressed home with determination, and several of the crews saw a hit on the Bismarck amidships. The shortage of Swordfish in the Victorious had forced them to use fighters to watch and shadow the enemy and in the darkness and bad visibility some of them lost touch, and were unable to find their way back to the carrier. The Suffolk and Norfolk also lost contact with the Bismarck in the darkness, and the enemy was given his chance to evade our forces.

As dawn broke on the morning of the 25th with no reports of the enemy, we realized that not only had contact with the Bismarck been lost, but that the chances of finding her again in the lowering visibility, rising wind and the wide Atlantic were none too rosy. Speculation over the chart began. The briefing-room below the chart-room was full most of the day with officers discussing the probable course of the Bismarck and whether we should have a chance of getting within range; in the chart-house the same chances were being discussed. Would the enemy make for Brest and so give us the chance of intercepting them? Had the enemy enough fuel to make for the Straits and Italy, or would they refuel from a tanker at sea and remain in the Atlantic, sinking our convoys, and finally make their way back either to Norway, Brest or the Mediterranean.

There was a gale blowing by dawn on the 25th May and visibility was low. The Renown was taking seas solidly over her fo'c'sle and quarter-deck and speed had to be reduced to twenty-three knots and later to twenty-one knots. The A/S patrols, however, took off whenever it was possible for the crews to see anything. Their importance had naturally much increased with the departure of the destroyers as the force depended entirely upon them for security against submarine attack.

Twice during the day we had to recall and land the aircraft because of low visibility. Heavy rain-clouds came down on us at a speed of fifty miles an hour, blotting out the horizon over wide arcs. Once we were too late to get both aircraft back, but we could hear our lost bird above the noise of the gale as he circled out of sight, over the ship. Then the weather cleared for a moment, the pilot saw us, the ship got her head into wind and in a moment, before the arrival of the next deluge of blinding rain, he landed on. A few minutes later visibility increased again and the next two A/S patrol were off, cruising ahead of Force 'H', searching for the submarine that did not appear.

By evening on the 25th the Bismarck had been lost to our ships for the best part of a day. During the day aircraft from Victorious had been sent to search the area towards Greenland in case the enemy had decided to break back and make for Norway, but they sighted nothing. As the hours went by there came the unhappy feeling that perhaps once again we should return with little more than flying experience to our advantage. It looked as though the enemy might well elude us and turn up off the American coast, in the South Atlantic or at Gibraltar where the door was now wide open.

However, just before dusk the Bismarck foolishly made a signal and several D/F station position lines were broadcast to us. The cut was a bad one as the lines were almost parallel to each other, but it did give an indication that she had turned to the south-eastward, towards Brest, and not the northward, or the south-westward. Having plotted the position and estimated the probable course and speed of the enemy we made a signal to our Admiral suggesting it looked like a contact early next day. The reply came quickly enough: he agreed and that was why we were making this course and this speed. We were to be ready to fly off the first reconnaissance at 7 a.m. to cover the area in which the enemy might be found. This area was some 140 miles by 90 miles and by our reckoning we hoped to make contact about 8 a.m. If the 7 a.m. reconnaissance failed to locate the Bismarck we were to fly off another about 1 p.m., and if nothing came of that search then a third sortie was to be made.

Unfortunately the sea kept rising all day and by the evening we were punching into a north-westerly gale with low scudding clouds and a grey overcast sky. The Gulf Stream also did its best to stop us reaching the area of search as in the western limits of the Bay of Biscay there is a continuous south-going stream, formed by that portion of the Gulf Stream which on striking the Irish coast has to make its get-away to the southward. Before the night was very old our calculations made it clear that instead of reaching our fly-off position at 7 a.m. we should barely get there at 9 a.m. It was going to be a close thing. Would the Bismarck slip past ahead of us? If we had been a few hours late in leaving Gibraltar our chances of interception would have been slight indeed.

The motion of the ship increased as the night passed and wisps of spray even came flying over the bridge. The dawn flight of the A/S patrol was cancelled as the risk from submarines was not great and anyway some risk had to be taken if we were to use all the aircraft we had against our principal objective, the Bismarck. There was some blue sky but we were all making fairly heavy weather of the Atlantic swell. I sent Schoolie down to measure the rise and fall of the stern of the ship and he reported it to be fifty-three feet. This I felt was too much of a good thing, so sent the Pilot down to check. He returned and reported 'first wave fifty-six feet'. No aircraft had ever been flown from the deck of a carrier in such weather. The chances of landing-on successfully seemed decidedly slender. Few pilots would jump at the idea of landing on an aerodrome whose runway was liable to rise and fall over fifty feet just as the aircraft touched down.

At 8.30 a.m. the ten aircraft for the reconnaissance were brought up from below. Additional men had to be employed to hold the aircraft down on the deck in the gale of wind: it was gusting fifty miles an hour over the flying-deck and the whole ship was covered in spray. She was even digging her snout into the Atlantic waves and taking them green on to her flying-deck sixty-three feet up from the water-line.

At 8.35 a.m. we had reached the position to fly off. We turned into wind and at six knots the aircraft took off one after another. The first of them missed by inches a green sea which broke over the flying-deck and washed aft as far as the pom-poms. It was a sight none of us will forget; the aircraft being brought forward to the centre line, the flying- deck officer's flag dropping as he received his signal from the bridge to fly off the next one, and the aircraft toiling forward, either climbing uphill or scuttling forward downhill as the pitch of the ship dictated. As the aircraft came forward and passed close below us on the bridge, the observer or wireless gunner gave us a smile, read the last instruction about the wind on the blackboard, pushed his thumb upwards to show he understood and that everything was O.K. and was off into the storm- swept sky. They quickly found the direction and speed of the wind and we could then see them, each one setting out on his allotted course for the three-and-a-half-hour journey over the sea in search of the Bismarck. The search drawn out on the chart the night before had begun.

The deck was now kept clear to meet the possibility of a returning lame bird, a not infrequent occurrence with such ancient and much overhauled engines. Fortunately none did return, and as time went by we realized that the search was becoming a thorough one with no blank areas in the middle. Between decks, in the hangars, six more 'string bags' were being got ready with long range tanks so that they could take over the shadowing the moment the enemy was sighted. It left us with two spare aircraft on board.

As soon as the birds were off, course was shaped to the northward, along the eastern limit of the searched area, the direction in which we had told the aircraft we would steam during their absence. Their landing-on position was in fact some fifty miles north of the position in which they had left our decks.

At about 10.50 a.m. the Wireless Office sent up a signal which had been intercepted from a Coastal Command Catalina, which reported the Bismarck some fifty miles to the westward of us in the area being searched by the Swordfish. The effect this signal had on the bridge and throughout the whole ship can be imagined; there just wasn't a face without a smile on it. News spreads quickly in a carrier where a running commentary of operations is kept going so that everyone on board may know how the day is going.

We did not have long to wait for still better news, for at 11.14 a.m. the Swordfish carrying out the search on a line forty miles from the southern end of the search area, reported 'Bismarck in sight'. Ten minutes later we knew that according to the drill taught the next nearest aircraft on the search had also made contact. The Bismarck had definitely been fixed, two aircraft had her in sight, and despite the clouds, the rain and varying visibility we all knew she would not be lost again.

These reports not only brought thrills to Force 'H' and the Admiralty but the ships of the Home Fleet taking part in the hunt. But the King George V and Rodney were away to the westward and with a maximum speed of twenty-two and a half knots could not hope to catch up unless the Bismarck could be crippled. To help in the crippling four of the Home Fleet destroyers were sent on at full speed to try to get ahead of the enemy and attack with torpedo after dark. The Dorsetshire was freed from her convoy to the south-westward and she was told to proceed at full speed and make contact. In England, aircraft striking forces were being got ready to launch an attack should the business that day at sea not go as was hoped.

In the vicinity of the enemy amusing things were happening. The Catalina, seeing an aircraft in the neighbourhood, took the old 'string- bag' to be an aircraft flown up from the Bismarck, so she shot up into cloud and being short of fuel made for home. The Swordfish on the other hand seeing the Catalina said to itself: 'Damn, the Hun has got his Focke- Wulfs out from France, this is no place for me,' and jumped up into a cloud. However, he realized that Focke-Wulf or no Focke-Wulfe he must keep an eye on the Bismarck and so he came down again and to his delight saw no aircraft, but Bismarck steaming along on an easterly course at twenty-two knots for Brest. From now on the movements of the enemy were reported to all who cared to hear every fifteen or twenty minutes. Certainly on board the Ark the exact position of the Bismarck was now never in doubt. Direction-finding cuts of the aircraft as they reported the enemy gave us accurate bearings which when applied to our own plot made the situation crystal clear.

Our immediate concern now was to get the long-range tank Swordfish off to take over the shadowing, as the petrol in the shadowing aircraft would not last for long. So up they came from below. They were given their five minutes' engine warm-up, the course and speed into wind signal was made, the ship swung round into wind and they were off.

No sooner were they away than the aircraft sent out on the long search started coming back, first one, then another making its call sign by aldis lamp to the ship as it came into sight. Sometimes it was the ship that would see the aircraft first, low against the sky over the horizon, and then it would be for the ship to call the aircraft by lamp. At the after end of the bridge an able seaman ticked off the aircraft on a blackboard as they reported and as they landed on. All came back except the two on watch and landing-on was the next problem. With the stern of the ship rising and falling more than fifty feet, the aircraft as they came in would sometimes be hidden from sight by the ship's stern and at the next moment they would appear to be too high to ever get down in time. The officer controlling the landings had a responsible task. He was standing up on one side of the flying-deck with a lifeline around him to keep him upright in the gale and spray. Sometimes he had to wave an aircraft away as many as three times when the arrival of the aircraft coincided with too lively a prance by the old ship, and to have attempted to land on would have meant a crash or the disappearance of the aircraft over the side into the sea. There were no destroyers to pick up the unfortunate crew, though the Sheffield just astern would have made a good shot at it. One aircraft did crash. The stern rose sharply and literally smacked the aircraft flat as she touched down. That left other aircraft milling round with none too much petrol to spare while the flying-deck personnel got rid of the wreck. 'Jumbo', the mobile crane, could not take the floor in such weather and so the smashed aircraft had to be dragged aft and pushed over the after end of the flying-deck into the sea.

Of the twelve to return eleven landed safely. This was In large part due to the good work of the squadron crews and the flying deck personnel. The pipe 'So-and-so squadron prepare to receive aircraft' soon brought them up to the wings of the flying-deck and as an aircraft landed-on they jumped on it, folded its wings in the gale of wind, cleared her hook from the arrester wire and allowed her to taxi forward on to the foremost lift and so down to the hangar.

It was not until the Swordfish with the long-range tanks had reached and taken over the 'Wacht am Bismarck' that the first two aircraft could return to the ship. They returned with very little petrol left, having been in the air for over four hours. Their pilots and observers were soon on the bridge and we were interrogating them. No man is at his best after four hours flying in rain, cold, and bad visibility, with a vital target periodically shooting at him and a nightmare of a landing to end up with. So the questioning went on. 'Did you see anything of the Prince Eugen?' 'No there was only one ship.' 'What did she look like?' 'I think it was the Bismarck.' 'Was her silhouette like this or that?' 'She was more like the Prince Eugen.' 'Was there a gap between the funnel and the bridge?' 'No there was not.' 'Perhaps she was more like the Eugen.' 'What impression did she give of size?' 'Well, you really could not tell: she opened a heavy accurate fire at you whenever you came close to have a better look and even when you got the other side of a cloud the shooting was good.' 'What speed was she making, good?' 'About twenty-two knots. She seemed a low small target. She hardly looked like a fifty-thousand-ton ship.

A signal had already come in from the flagship:'What is the report from the reconnaissance?' All I could reply was; 'There is only one enemy ship. The evidence favours her being the Prince Eugen. I am sure, however, she is the Bismarck.'

Meanwhile in the hangars the aircraft were being overhauled by their squadron teams, petrol was being embarked and the torpedoes in their trolleys were being moved forward ready for buttoning on to the aircraft the moment they were ranged. The crews meanwhile got their lunch and came up to the observer's office to discuss the attack they were to make as soon as every available aircraft on board had been prepared for the strike.

The Bismarck meanwhile had come up with Force 'H' but was thirty miles to the southward making the best speed she could for Brest. On board the German Admiral had lost his temper with her captain and told him it was up to him to get them out of the mess they were now in.

A few hours later Hitler was freeing Iron Crosses for those on board the doomed ship.

With the wind in the west Force 'H' had to turn to a westerly course every time that aircraft had to be flown on or off and during these periods the Bismarck gained position on us to the eastward. It therefore became necessary for the force to make all the speed it could when steering to the eastward between aircraft handling. In one of these dashes the Ark actually exceeded her designed horse-power of 100,000 h.p. In fact the engine-room staff was having a great time. At one moment full speed was demanded and at the next, when aircraft wanted the use of the ship's deck, a speed of only six or ten knots, a demand that could not have been answered by marine engineers of fifteen years ago when it took more than an hour to work up to full speed.

By 2 p.m. the fourteen available aircraft were ready for the attack, but the weather was no better. Not only was the wind high but there was a lot of rain and low visibility. The ceiling was little more than 800 feet and in the extensive rain squalls visibility was virtually nil. Yet there were clear patches and we were lucky to strike one when the time came to range and fly off. At 2.15 p.m. aircraft ranging began and the torpedoes came up the lift and were run aft along the flying deck on their trolleys. The two reliefs for the aircraft shadowing the Bismarck were also got up and parked aft ready to take off. At 2.40 p.m. engines were started up and by 2.45 p.m. the flying-deck officer reported all ready. Course and speed signals were made. The flagship made the executive signal and we were flying-off the first of the striking force by 2.50 p.m. They formed up into a striking force in their sub-divisions of three to our northward and then flew off to the southward into heavy clouds and rain to make contact with the enemy.

A few minutes later when the ship was running down-wind at full speed an alarmed signal officer brought me a signal that had just been deciphered in the office below. It had been made to the Admiralty repeated to Ark Royal, and so naturally had not been taken as an urgent signal needing immediate deciphering in the welter of signals that were pouring in to the ship. The signal said Sheffield had been detached to contact and shadow the Bismarck. This meant she was in the path of our aircraft and if they were in bad visibility they might well attack her. An immediate signal was therefore broadcast, in plain language--there was no time for coding--'look out for Sheffield.' But it was too late, the attack had been made and only three of the fourteen aircraft recognized the friend in time and did not drop their torpedoes.

Making their way through rain the striking force had made contact with a ship below and, without a moment's delay, down they went through the cloud to the attack. Fortunately a number of the magnetic pistols in the torpedoes fired soon after entering the water, while the Sheffield, well trained in the art of avoiding practice torpedo attacks, went on to full speed and dodged the remainder. In fact a combination of good fortune and good management avoided a distinctly awkward incident. One rascally observer as he flew away from the scene, his pilot having fired his 'tin fish', made a signal to Sheffield: 'Sorry for the kipper.'

We did not know the result of that unfortunate encounter till the crews arrived on board and it was an unhappy party that returned to negotiate their landing. The conditions were no better: the ship was pitching heavily into the Atlantic seas. They came back in ones and twos, circled the ship and were ordered to make their attempt to land-on in turn. Some were received on board at once, others had to be waved away to make another attempt while the wind and spray licked down the flying-deck and made it hard for anyone to stand, let alone hold down and fold the wings of the aircraft. One only crash-landed and it was dragged forward and taken below for dismemberment and re-issue in bits to aircraft wanting parts. Cannibalism had become a fine art in the Fleet Air Arm.

Having made one false start, it was the purpose of everyone to launch the next attack as quickly as possible. Aircraft were refuelled, more torpedoes were prepared and this time we decided to forget about the magnetic pistols and to give them the pistol that would fire on impact. This meant the torpedoes, instead of being set to go under the enemy, had to hit, and hit as far under water as possible. As we were still not certain whether we were in touch with the Bismarck or the Prince Eugen, a decision had to be made whether the torpedoes should be set at the twenty-foot depth setting suitable for the Bismarck or only ten feet. The height of the sea, however, settled the matter for us: in such a sea it appeared quite possible that a torpedo set at twenty feet might well run under the Bismarck, so the ten-foot setting was chosen.

While the rearming was going on, another turn into wind had to be made to fly off the next pair of reconnaissance aircraft, a matter of a few seconds once the ship was into wind. Later the two who had been over the Bismarck had to be landed-on.

At 7 p.m. the torpedo bombers were ranged and ready to take off. There were fifteen of them this time, every aircraft that remained in the ship. Results can only be hoped for if numbers are employed. This time we had no intention of getting mixed up with the Sheffield so the crews were told first to contact Sheffield who was just astern and in sight of Bismarck, before going in to the attack. This arrangement not only ensured that one of our own ships would not be hit, but gave the aircraft a good point of departure for the attack. This time too Sheffield was warned of their coming.

The weather had by this time become considerably worse. Visibility was exceedingly variable, cloud was at about 600 feet and less. Furthermore there were immense banks of rain. The outlook was not exactly ideal for an attack, or even flying for that matter. At 7 p.m. the old ship was again into wind steaming six knots and the Swordfish were taking off up and downhill with the pitch of the ship. They formed up quickly and passed away to the southward close over the masts of the Renown and were lost in the heavy cloud of rain that lay to our southward. They made contact with the Sheffield, however, and were given their course to come upon the Bismarck. During the approach the party became split up in the cloud and bad visibility and they felt their way to the enemy in threes and twos and ones. Very heavy fire was opened on them the moment they appeared and some of the aircraft had to sheer off and make a second and third attack. One aircraft lost touch altogether, returned to the Sheffield, was given another course to steer, got ahead of the Bismarck! and made a bold attack in face of a hail of fire, dropping his torpedo less than 1,000 yards from her port beam: the crew then had the satisfaction of seeing a column of water rise high over her decks amidships.

A Fairey Swordfish attacks!

They started to return about 9 p.m. and the last of them was not on board until 10.30 p.m. Five had been damaged by gunfire. On one 127 holes were counted, and the pilot and air-gunner had been wounded, but despite the failing light only one made an unsuccessful landing. The stories of the pilots and observers as they came up to the bridge were difficult to piece together, but as the interrogation proceeded it became clear that two and probably three hits had been scored, and most important of all one if not two had been scored right aft. On the weather conditions they were all quite definite. The rain, low cloud and high wind made the operation exceedingly difficult. It was hard to find the enemy and the risk of mistaking one of our own ships for the Bismarck was very real as the earlier attack had shown, and visibility was much worse now.

By this time the pack was closing in on the fleeing Bismarck. The Dorsetshire, we knew, was not far away to the south-westward. The two battleships were making splendid speed and coming up astern of us. The four destroyers had passed up between Force 'H' and the enemy with the object of getting into a position ahead and making a torpedo attack after dusk, while the Sheffield was keeping her eye on the enemy from astern and reporting her every movement. But she had to keep her distance as the wounded battleship opened fire with her main armament of 15-in. guns whenever the proximity of the Sheffield and visibility permitted.

The two reconnaissance aircraft were ordered to remain in touch until the last possible moment, an order they obeyed to the letter. It was not until darkness came down and heavy rain enshrouded the enemy that they lost touch and after a vain search returned on board at 11.30 p.m. with practically no petrol left. In the darkness we could not see them from the bridge as they approached to land-on. It was a relief to hear the thump and clatter of the arrester hook on the deck as they arrived home once more.

But long before they had been struck below there was great news from the Sheffield. The first signal reported the Bismarck as having slowed down, then that she was circling and appeared to be not under control, and finally that she was floundering along almost stopped on a northerly course. Those hits aft had maimed her. Now the King George V and Rodney could catch up and dawn would see the coup de grace.

A signal from the Commander-in-Chief told Renown and Ark Royal to pass to the westward of the enemy and take up a position to the southward, while the battleships took up a position to the westward, so that the enemy should be nicely silhouetted against the sky-line as dawn broke. The end must not be delayed as we were now not more than 500 miles from a considerable concentration of German air forces and their submarine bases were also not far away. It was not an area in which to dawdle.

During the night the destroyers went in to the attack and hits were claimed. Still this battleship of modern construction remained not only afloat, but able to reply to her attackers with her heavy and light armaments. Perhaps if she had been built in accordance with the limitations agreed upon at the naval conferences, namely 35,000 tons, it would not have taken so long. It was after the entry of Russia into the war that we discovered her tonnage to be 53,000 tons. Who in future is going to trust international agreements which hamstring the honest and place opportunity in the hands of the unscrupulous, or are there still people who think that the law can be enforced by nice people, with nice thoughts, writing nice things on nice paper?

At 4.30 a.m. a lift in the Ark was at work again bringing up the reconnaissance and spotting aircraft that had been promised to the Commander-in-Chief for first light. The night was black, but it was blacker still to the northward where heavy rain must have been falling over the ships congregated around the almost stationary enemy. The wind was high and spray was continually washing over the length of the flying-deck. So strong was the wind that the two aircraft--one was acting as spare--had to be brought right forward abreast the funnel for the take-off, otherwise they would have become airborne before reaching the funnel and bridge and might have crashed into it--as had happened a short while before. The engines roared and when the green light from the flying-deck reported all was ready, and the flying commander flashed his green light, the leading aircraft took off and literally rose vertically alongside the bridge up into the night and was lost to sight.

Soon she was back, returning on our wireless beacon, to report she could not identify the enemy. However she was told to go back and remain over the target area until daylight came. When dawn started to break, however, the visibility due to rain was so bad that it was some time before the aircraft could pick out one ship from another.

Meanwhile on board, while it was still dark, the twelve remaining serviceable Swordfish were brought up on deck and with their wings still folded were parked aft. The wind gauge on the bridge was registering over fifty miles an hour and it was pouring with rain. In darkness and in such conditions it was impossible to open the wings and start up the engines of the aircraft and it was decided to strike them below again until there was light to see. But with day it became clear that the only chance there was of ranging the twelve would be to turn tail to wind and get them armed and warmed up running down-wind. So this was done. There remained the job of turning the ship round again and the danger, when the ship rolled beam on to the sea, of the aircraft slipping over the side. To guard against this more men were brought up on the flying-deck and the aircraft were temporarily lashed. While waiting on the bridge we watched the sea and it appeared that every now and then a particularly steep sea came by. In fact it seemed to obey the old rule of every seventh wave being heavier than the others. So when it was reported that all aircraft were ready we waited the approach of one of the heavy ones and then, going on to full speed with the centre and port wing shafts, we put the rudder hard over. The old ship, always a delight to handle at speed, swung round like a top, but even so she took several heavy rolls before she got round and two of the aircraft slipped as much as eight feet sideways. It was an exciting moment with the crews holding on and the propellers heaving round. But once round, speed had to be reduced to six knots and the Swordfish with their torpedoes took off one after the other in rapid succession.

A dark cloud of rain still hid our northern horizon but we sighted a destroyer and she reported she could see the Bismarck some miles away to the northward, so there was no question of the striking force missing their target this time. Moreover the guns of the battleships were by now very active and we could hear the thunder of the 14-in. and 16-in. guns above the noise of the wind.

The Swordfish formed up down-wind of us and came up our port side, making no more than fifty miles an hour with the gale of wind on their bow. They went away ahead of us at about 300 feet, the sub- divisions in tight formations of three, and they looked more like a covey of partridges than a torpedo-striking force. When they were about a mile ahead of us we saw to the north-eastward between the clouds that were now breaking, first one, then another Focke-Wulf. We could only hope they would not see the little Swordfish. Unfortunately the sky, till now a mass of cloud, was breaking fast and patches of clear blue sky could be seen.

By this time the reconnaissance aircraft sent up at 4.30 a.m. was circling round Force 'H', Sheffield had rejoined us, and as soon as the striking force had taken off the aircraft, now rather short of fuel, had to be landed-on.

In the battle area a close range fight had developed. The Bismarck began by answering the fire of the British battleships though she scored no hits, but before long she became a silent hulk on the water and our aircraft crews could see the ship's company jumping overboard by hundreds. With the splashes of the shell going up all round the Bismarck to heights of 400 feet it was impossible for the striking force to come in and make an attack, so they closed the King George V and reported for orders by aldis lamp, hoping the fire would be stopped and that they would be sent in to attack. But beyond having a few friendly anti-aircraft shells fired at them they did no more than watch the gradual destruction of the Bismarck: and the smoke of fierce fires burning below. Still she floated and as the battleships withdrew saying she could not be sunk by gunfire the Dorsetshire was told to go in and torpedo her. The torpedoes hit, she rolled over and sank. So was the coup de grace administered within a few miles of the spot where she had been maimed the night before. She was indeed a ship after the heart of Admiral Tirpitz who believed that battleships should first be built to float and then to hit back.

It was now time to be going. The sky was a motley of white and grey clouds against a background of blue, but the wind was high and the seas steep. Between the clouds we saw another Focke-Wulf going to the north-eastward. It was quite clear to all that this was not an area in which to remain longer than was necessary: the German Air Forces were bound to be out in strength before long and the 800 feet by 100 feet target of the Ark's flying-deck was certain to attract attention. No delay could therefore be accepted in landing-on the Swordfish as they returned. If the aircraft attempted to land-on with their heavy torpedoes in such weather conditions a number of collapsed undercarriages might be reported and much time would be spent clearing the flying-deck of the debris before the next could land.

On reaching the ship the aircraft were told, therefore, to go to a respectful distance and jettison their torpedoes before attempting to land-on.

As they came back the speed of the ship had to be reduced to four knots to receive them. Even so the wind speed over the deck was more than forty miles an hour. The Renown was now manoeuvering to port and to windward of the Ark, while the Sheffield remained on the port quarter to give any covering fire that might be needed while the aircraft were landing-on. Before the third aircraft had passed the barrier on the flying-deck a Heinkel III appeared from the south-eastward at a height of about 4,000 feet and made a run up on the Ark. With the fourth aircraft just landing-on we could not open fire but the Sheffield and Renown both gave the visitor a warm reception and her bombs fell harmlessly in the sea off the starboard quarter. Two other enemy aircraft seemed to be interested in our movements, one making a grand tour to our southward, the other passing on to the northward probably to get a close look at the King George V and Rodney who were by now going as fast as their fuel stocks would allow them for bases in Scotland: they could get no shelter or fighter protection on the west coast of neutral Ireland. Some hours later the destroyer leader Matabele on her way north was attacked and sunk by bombs off the Irish coast, a loss that need never have occurred if fighter bases on Irish soil had been made available to Britain in her life-and-death struggle.

As the aircraft came on board they were struck below and lashed in the hangars to ensure they did not break loose when the ship turned beam on to the sea to make a withdrawal to the south-westward with Force 'H'. By the afternoon the sun was shining, clouds were few, and all was over.

The following afternoon our destroyer escort from Gibraltar met us out beyond the Portuguese coast and in two columns they came straight at us and passed down close on either side of Force 'H'. They cheered each ship as they passed, and were answered by the crews of the force they had come out to escort.

Soon Force 'H', complete with its screen and anti-submarine patrol zigzagging in the sky ahead, was making its way in a calm, blue sea for the Straits of Gibraltar. First Africa, then Spain came in sight, then Tangier and Monkey Hill:

On approaching Gibraltar our Admiral signalled the Ark to enter harbour first, a signal which few of us will ever forget. And as we closed the northern entrances we were met by the Garrison of the Rock, in pulling boats, sailing boats, launches and small steamers: they had come out to welcome their Force 'H' back again. They were all old friends who had been to sea with us on other trips or had done battle with us on the football field. The merchant ships in the harbour too sent their greetings with their sirens, and small parties on board cheered as we passed close down beside them at the detached mole. It was quite clear in the minds of all who watched over the sunlit seas at the entrance gate to the Mediterranean that the sinking of the Bismarck had taught a proper lesson to those who planned the destruction of the ships of Britain on the high seas, or who might plan the raising of the Mediterranean against us.

This operation had brought home as no other operation so far the change that had been wrought in the tactics of the Fleet by the advent of the carrier. Not only might carriers be said to have reduced the distances over the oceans and have found a means by which an enemy might be brought to action, but it had shown by implication how a serious attack against a convoy might be delivered by a carrier force from a great distance. Should we have to send an expeditionary force across the oceans it was clear the enemy would want to be well equipped with carriers to damage that force and that we would have to give carrier support to the convoy as the best means of defending it against most forms of attack. In the oceans, therefore, the carrier had become a deciding factor in sea power and the battleship, except in bad weather conditions and at night, had become of secondary importance. Ocean fleets in future therefore would be measured as much in terms of carriers as any other class of ship.

The provision of an adequate number of carriers to give security to the ocean passage of any overseas expedition we might decide to send, and its subsequent lines of communication, had become essential, while carriers might also be required to give fighter cover when the expedition started to land. It would be no good in the future to say that the carrier was the most expensive type of ship to build and maintain over the years, and that therefore we must have only a few of them. The balanced fleet of the future would require a number of carriers, and the state would have to have them if its strategy required effective modern protection for its lines of communication across the sea.

It will be interesting to see how these lessons will be appreciated by the maritime powers. What will be their proportion of carrier to battleship and to what extent will carrier tonnage displace cruiser tonnage? On a proper estimation of these things will depend the security of any expedition we may have to send across the sea in defence of our way of living.