Have you read all four parts of the Navy News Submarine Centenary series? More>

By Richard Compton-Hall

Pictures courtesy the RN Submarine Museum, Gosport

On September 3, 1939, the Royal Navy had 58 submarines - about the same as Germany.

A dozen - Ls and Hs - were decidedly dated, but construction of the handy 950-ton S-class and powerful 1,580-ton T-class was proceeding apace, and the little 735-ton Us, originally unarmed as 'clockwork mice', were each being given four torpedo tubes (six initially, then reduced) and a 3in or 12pdr gun.

Six minelayers were equally effective as torpedo boats.

Eighteen big Os, Ps and Rs - maligned for their clumsiness, engine failures and leaky external fuel tanks - were capable enough in the right hands, while three fast 'Rivers' could deploy quickly.

Commanding officers, differing in character as much as their boats, were groomed by rigorous 'Perisher' command-training to uniform expertise.

Whiskery warrant engineers (or chief ERAs in small boats) puffed valued avuncular advice to seaman officers; coxswains and chief stokers were suitably crafty; and stalwart petty officers dispensed discreet justice in their own departments.

It is not true that everybody volunteered: pressed men comprised ten per cent of entrants in 1940, rising to 21 and finally 31 per cent in 1945 - but the great majority probably changed to 'Volunteer' after a year in boats.

Mark 8 21in torpedoes had been in widespread service for seven years, and a large number of practice firings on the China Station had eliminated teething troubles.

The usual speed setting was 45 knots out to 5,000 yards.

Non-contact magnetic pistols, introduced late, were rightly distrusted; but overall only ten per cent of the weapons suffered material defects. The Royal Navy did not employ homing or pattern-running torpedoes, and of course there was no wire-guidance.

For secondary armament, a 4in (100mm) gun was the ideal calibre: its ammunition was not too heavy to hand up the tower, and 35lb HEDA shells did far more damage than 12-pounders.

A wooden junk was destroyed by two rounds from HMS Thrasher's 4in gun, but it took 46 3in rounds from Statesman to sink a similar target.

Typically, 12 to 20 rounds were needed to destroy a caique or schooner.

Communications had improved a lot since World War I. VLF broadcasts from Rugby could be read (if steering an optimal course) at periscope depth in most operational areas, and boats could send messages via a network of HF receiving stations.

Looking down from above, it may have seemed that sinking ships by stealth was almost despicably easy in World War II; but that was not so - any more than "Well, you just press a button" is today.

The average commanding officer was indeed highly skilled, but periscope attacks were only possible by day; and airguard radar, installed as the war progressed, was no good for fire-control on the surface at night.

Asdic (passive, at 10 or 15 kHz) sometimes heard ships beyond horizon range and, by counting revolutions, helped to judge speed (as well as enemy intentions during a counter-attack), but bearings were not dependable.

A serious deficiency was the lack of continuous angling for torpedoes waiting in their tubes.

German and American commanders could concentrate on gaining an ideal position and, in theory, fire an angled spread whenever a target was in range.

But a British CO had to turn the submarine itself on to a course that, to allow for errors, would send a 'hosepipe' salvo of successive straight-running fish out on the calculated aim-off or director angle (DA) and fire at the moment each aiming point passed his cross-wires.

It was all too easy to 'miss the DA', and luck undeniably played a part in success. "F*** me, I've hit it!" exclaimed the modest Lt Cdr J.R. 'Ginger' Harvey of Osiris when a snap-shot blew up the Italian destroyer Palestro off Brindisi on September 22, 1940.

Navigational facilities were notably poor, calling for practice and experience which youthful 'Vascos' lacked in abundance unless they had been schooled in the Merchant Navy.

It is no coincidence that many of the most successful submarines were commanded or navigated by RNR officers like the outstanding reservist Lt A.D.

Piper, who made no fewer than 39 patrols as a third hand, first lieutenant and Commanding Officer, in Ursula, Unbeaten and Unsparing.

Low speeds were a severe handicap. S and T-boats could make 14 or 15 knots on the surface, but the diesel-electric drive in Us allowed little more than ten knots.

No submarine could do better than eight or nine knots dived - for one hour - but, if lights and auxiliary machinery were switched off, a geriatric pedestrian pace could be maintained for about 30 hours, by which time breathing became the problem.

The first six months of war went badly. Submariners were not sufficiently alert, and friends behaved like enemies.

Sturgeon and Seahorse were bombed by RAF aircraft - in neither case did submarines show the requisite recognition signals - and Sturgeon fired three blue-on-blue torpedoes at Swordfish, happily without result.

Off Norway, Triton challenged a darkened submarine but failed to elicit a response before firing a salvo which sent Oxley to the bottom.

A strong, remorseless, experienced submariner was needed at the top to put the service on a proper wartime footing, and Max Horton was duly appointed Admiral VA (S) on April 8, 1940. He established his HQ at Northways, close enough, but not too close, to the Admiralty.

Horton was never popular (except with the ladies) but, feared and admired, he was unstintingly respected.

Determined that submarines should operate with the utmost efficiency to the greatest effect, he encouraged versatility among the boats available.

Where standard designs did not meet requirements, he instigated two-man Chariots and four-man X-craft (perfect submarines in miniature) for harbour penetration.

It is hard to see how the submarine service would have contributed such a vigorous part towards ultimate victory without Horton at the reins from January 1940 to November 1942, when he went on to direct the Battle of the Atlantic.

Under Horton, submarines carried out a wide variety of duties. They reconnoitred for surface fleets, and helped to guard Russian convoys.

They made 49 storing trips to besieged Malta, landed agents and commandos on enemy coasts, acted as beacons for allied invasion forces and surveyed beaches.

They carried troops and bombarded shore targets. They carried Chariots and towed X-craft. They rescued downed airmen from the sea, provided a 'loyal opposition' for anti-submarine training; and all the while campaigned against enemy naval vessels, transports, merchant ships, troop-carriers of all sizes, and U-boats - one of which Venturer destroyed in 1945 after the only engagement when attacker and victim have both been submerged.

The fiercest fighting took place in the Mediterranean, where the largest and most heavily-armed submarines were based at Alexandria, whence they were despatched on roving commissions rather than being confined to specific patrol areas.

Captains of big boats were relatively long in the tooth. 'Tubby' Linton - the stout, caustic and paternalistic CO of Pandora and Turbulent - was 38 when he was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross in 1943 after failing to return from his 21st patrol.

Some extraordinarily young commanding officers, like Troup and Roxburgh in their very early twenties, were extremely successful and came through the war; but a 'certain age' assisted in meticulous planning, careful weighing of risks involved - and, like as not, it was a factor in getting home safely!

Torbay's blustery, ferocious Tony Miers (known as 'Gamp' in the fore-ends and 'Crap' in the wardroom) was another instance of maturity if not mellowness.

His exploit in the narrow, densely-guarded Corfu Channel, reminiscent of First World War derring-do in the Dardanelles, earned him the VC; but Miers took Torbay on plenty of other hazardous operations - one, unnoticed by historians, involved the astonishing rescue of 130 British and Common-wealth troops from an isolated cove on Crete where they had been stranded after the main evacuation in May 1941.

The short-legged Us operated from Malta, where the 'Fighting Tenth' flotilla was based during most of the great siege imposed by Italian and German air forces from June 1940 to May 1943.

If, in 1934, the Treasury had accepted the idea of excavating submarine pens (at the price of a single T-boat) Malta would have been a secure base.

As it was, two submarines were sunk by bombs and several were badly damaged at their moorings. At times boats were forced to dive in harbour during the day, to the detriment of maintenance and rest for crews.

Nevertheless, operations continued, virtually unchecked, due to 5ft 2in of crackling, unconventional leadership in the stocky shape of Capt George 'Shrimp' Simpson. Shrimp got on well with Max Horton, who backed him to the hilt.

"Treat your commanding officers like Derby winners," said Max, and Shrimp endeavoured to do just that, although whether racehorses would have thrived on quantities of whisky is questionable.

The Tenth's primary task was to disrupt Axis supply lines between Italy and North Africa. On the side there were clandestine operations which required working close inshore in shallow and notoriously clear waters.

Italian and German air and surface anti-submarine forces were generally efficient, and the central Mediterranean was a thoroughly hostile environment for the submariners.

Yet captains and crews grew ever more proficient in adversity, returning time and again to hunting grounds which became more dangerous with every fresh visit.

Decorations were prolific and well deserved, but losses amounted to 49 per cent of boats operating throughout the middle sea.

After the war, Rommell's chief of staff was moved to remark: "Had it not been for the work of your submarines on our lines of communication, we should have taken Alexandria and reached the Suez Canal."

Profit and Loss

British submarines conducted 2,223 patrols in home waters, the Atlantic, Mediterranean and Far East.

They destroyed some two million tons of enemy shipping and sank 169 warships of various kinds, including 35 submarines.

There were 1,046 gun actions against minor war-vessels and small craft.
The number of shore bombardments and covert landings is unsure, but it certainly ran into three figures.

More than 50 enemy ships were thought to have run on to mines laid by British boats and the indefatigable FFS Rubis.

On the debit side, 74 British submarines were lost, one third in minefields.

The Royal Navy's most renowned submarine, HMS Upholder, commanded by Lt Cdr Malcolm Wanklyn, one of nine submariners awarded the VC in World War II, fell victim to the Italian torpedo boat Pegaso on April 14, 1942.

The Admiralty communiqué to the fleet on that occasion may serve as a memorial for all submariners whose final resting place is on the deep sea bed:
"The ship and her company are gone, but the example and the inspiration remain."