Titanic and Other Ships By Charles Lightoller
Chapter 42 LOSS OF H.M.S. "FALCON"
The North Sea was also in the process of being closed in much the same way, with the result that concentrated submarine warfare was being waged on our North Sea Convoys.
I suppose our division should have felt duly elated at being chosen to join up with the 6th and help deal with this fresh underwater effort. Perhaps it was a feather in our heavy weather caps. Anyhow it didn't matter for if we had dismally sung our requiem to the Dover Patrol, we certainly were in good time for the opening chorus on the East Coast. They turned their submarines out on us, as the Yanks say, "Good and plenty."
The stretch they devoted most of their attention to, was between the Firth of Forth and the Humber. Further south the Convoys were more or less under the protection of sandbanks. Poor old Falcon. She was not destined to see much service up there. The second night out we were cut in half and sunk.
It's a risky job working a Convoy at night time without lights. A slight misjudgment like the Gunner made as Officer of the Watch and it is all over. A destroyer's plating is only three-sixteenths of an inch thick, so there is not much to come and go on. We were almost cut through. In fact the forepart broke off during the night and sunk. Before this happened I had ordered "Abandon ship." First the engineers and stokers were got away on to a trawler. That made her more workable, but it was not long before it was very evident she was not going to last the night. So, later on, the general order, "Abandon ship" was carried out and every one was sent away, except the First Lieutenant and the Gunner, who stayed on board with me, until she went altogether.
There was just the possibility of getting hold of a trawler and towing the after end in, if it would float long enough. If it went down, we went too, but we always had the chance of being picked up. What did trouble me was the fact that one of the depth charges wouldn't set to "Safe" properly. It is the Gunner's job, when there is any likelihood of a ship sinking, to put all depth charges to "safe." When he reported, he imparted the cheerful information that there was a sporting chance that one of them would go off if the ship sank.
If one of them did go off then the whole blame lot would undoubtedly follow suit. In that case it meant that all three of us would get a good start on the way!
It was a bitterly cold night in February, raining and blowing to beat the band and we were wet through and mighty cheerless. The wind being strong from the westward, we were steadily drifting out to sea and across towards the German coast. I really don't know why I stuck to her, as obviously she was bound to go down before long. I suppose it could only have been one's natural reluctance to leave your ship whilst she still floats.
About midnight the fore part, after wobbling about independent of the rest of the ship, broke right off and sank. The after end was down at an angle of about 30° at the time and steadily sinking. There were no boats as they had all gone away with the crew. The whaler did stand by until the crew was exhausted with the cold and wet.
I was also frightfully anxious about one of the stokers who had been badly scalded in the stokehold, when some of the steam pipes burst immediately after the collision. He had been put on board a trawler, as it turned out later on, but even the help they were able to give him was of no avail, he died.
The dreary night dragged out its cheerless prospect. There was nothing we could do and we had nothing to eat---though the Gunner did manage, after much effort, to get a fire going in my cabin and make some tea. That drink of scalding hot tea put new life into us.
By 1 a.m. she was getting very low and at a still more acute angle. It seemed it could only be a matter of minutes before she took her final dip. How the minutes dragged by with nothing to do. It was bad enough in the Titanic, but in that case there was plenty to occupy both our hands and our minds.
Two o'clock came and she was still afloat; 2:15 and the end was surely near. Then, without a moment's earning, a bulkhead suddenly carried away and she sank like a stone, almost to the minute the Titanic sank and we were, as then, left swimming around in the icy cold water.
As the ship disappeared under the waves, out one and only thought was, "Are those infernal depth charges going off under us, or are they not?" It was not a bit of use doing anything whatever until that question was settled. So we just paddled and waited. After a minute or two it was evident that they were not, so that was one relief. We joined up with some wreckage and swam and whistled and shouted in the hope of attracting someone's attention. About half an hour later a trawler hove in sight and, near as a toucher, ran us down. Had I not had the usual officer's whistle in my pocket, I believe she would.
We were taken on board and given blankets and a good hot drink.
It had long since become the rule in the Navy that whether a ship was lost through negligence, accident, enemy action or what not, a Court Martial must be held, whereby the Captain is either blamed or exonerated. It was a good practice. Then, as in the case of the Falcon, there was no stigma remaining. Poor Gunner, he thought there was going to be some stigma all right, and had made up his mind from the outset that he, at any rate was finished, as far as the Navy was concerned. He would be sent back to big ships, and never get another chance of a Destroyer (which is everybody's aim and ambition.) "Well," I told him, "you just wait and see."
Eventually we got into harbour and went through the usual formalities attending the loss of one of H.M.'s ships. Gunner still one hundred per cent. pessimistic. Then came the great day of the Court Martial. Deputy Judge Advocate up from Whitehall and quite a big show. Plenty of three and four stripers to collect sections of our hide.
By the time the Court had assembled, the Gunner was still down and out. I still told him the same Asquithian story, "Wait and see." I assured him, somewhat blindly, that the tale was not yet all told and anyway in the back of my mind that things were not going to break so badly as he thought.
I'm afraid the solemnity of a full blown Naval Court Martial, with all its traditions and red tape did not strike me as as awe inspiring as it might have done. I know I inadvertently and ignorantly broke a number of those Naval relics. The first tradition or custom to go by the board was for the prisoner (that was me) to appear without a "Friend." It's the custom for a "Prisoner" to choose someone well versed in legal lore, King's Regulations and so forth, to act as his sort of Naval Lawyer. I chose the Navigator out of the Barracks, simply because we were very good friends. But it so happened that on the great morning when escorted by Provost Martial (in ordinary walks of life he'd be called the Bobby) and I called for my "Friend," I found him wading knee deep in charts. Half jokingly he said, "Look here, old man, can't you manage without me? I'm frightfully busy." I said, "Yes, of course. Don't bother. I'll manage fine." And marched off quite happily.
The proceedings commenced by reading over a Narrative of Events which I had prepared, instead of being cross-questioned. This, in itself was no small departure I found out later, but on the other hand it saved quite a lot of time. I had carefully tabulated and typed several copies of all that had occurred on that eventful night, hour by hour and even minute by minute, adding a rider to the end to the effect that "The highest traditions of the British Navy were maintained throughout." I also gave the Gunner a good boost up by saying: "Especially would I bring to the notice of the Court the behaviour of the Gunner, Mr. Shonk, who remained with me on the wreck and maintained an attitude of the utmost cheerfulness," etc., etc., "who frequently went down the after stokehold reporting conditions to me and at other times, made tea and played the gramophone." The tea and gramophone touch was perfectly true, but I included it partly as a joke, when I was writing the narrative and never for an instant thought it would be read out before the whole Court. I can yet see the Judge Advocate (who, to my horror, said he would read it to the Court), with solemn jowl reading out loud and me wondering if there would be an earthquake when he came to the last item. However, it just seemed to strike the right chord and caused a grin--much to my relief.
Next thing, the President spotted that I was without a Friend and he promptly stopped the proceedings. "The prisoner has not got a Friend," he said in a shocked voice. I, like an ass, said, "No, sir, he said he was too busy and would I manage without him."
I didn't realise just how ridiculous this statement was. About on a par with a chap who is being tried for murder and who tells the judge that his Lawyer is away playing golf.
The court plodded steadily through the set questions and cross questions, and cross questions, asking me, as each witness finished, "If I wished to cross-examine?"
Of course, I didn't. I just wanted to get the thing over and the Gunner out of the soup. Not till the Gunner had been called and examined--and hide it as he might, the fact that he was the culprit stuck out a mile. "Do you wish to cross-examine?" and on the impulse of the moment I said, "Yes I did." Though for the life of me I could not have said why.
I think they all thought I was now going to pin the blame irrevocably where it belonged. Well, they were wrong. I was out to soften the going for the Gunner, for he was looking pretty bleak, poor devil, as of course he did not know what I was getting at.
I started in: "How long have you been in Destroyers?" "How long have you been under my command?" "you have been Officer of the Watch?" "You have been in sole charge of the Watch?"
Here the President got my idea but suggested quite kindly that I should not ask leading questions. I apologised and set out again.
"Have you had full charge of the bridge at night on patrol?"
"Yes, sir."
"You have had full charge in the Downs, with a Convoy getting under weigh?"
"Yes sir."
Then before I realised quite what I was doing, I reverted to leading questions.
"You have never been reprimanded by me for getting too close to anything?"
To all of which he replied, "No," and "Yes," just as the questions required, wondering what on earth I was heading for. As a matter of fact, I hardly knew myself.
"You have had to manoeuvre in amongst ships in the Downs?"
"Yes sir."
"You have never had an accident."
"No sir."
"You have had full confidence in yourself?"
"Yes sir."
You still have full confidence in yourself now?"
"Yes, sir."
And with that I sat down.
I think the President saw my game as it developed and wanted to help. The outcome was that after the Court had adjourned to consider the verdict and duly returned, we were again called in. The hilt of my sword towards me (signifying I was exonerated). The D.J.A. then read a eulogy that fairly made me blush and the Gunner's eyes stand out like hatpegs. In short, the Court had "found" that far from being to blame, they had really discovered in us potential heroes by sticking to and going down with our ship.
But what was more to the point, the Gunner went to the biggest Destroyer
building, ditto the engineer--who had been scared stiff he was going to
be scrubbed for leaving the ship, whilst we other three stuck to her.
The same thing happened to Number One who also went to a big Destroyer.
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