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Ships of the Hochseeflotte moored quayside in Wilhelmshaven harbor – circa 1916. The dreadnought in the foreground is a Konig Class battleship, III Battle Squadron. IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN By: Dreadnought & AP Chapter 27: THOSE WHO LEAD As with all military plans, they look very good on paper, but they rarely survive the point at which they are put into execution. And so it would be with Jellicoe’s elaborate operation -- but it was hardly his fault. He had the benefit of commanding the largest battle fleet the world had ever seen. And Room 40 was decoding German wireless traffic almost as soon as they got it -- and -- he outnumbered his opponent by a considerable margin. As his battle fleet steamed southeast by east, Jellicoe was not at all certain he was going to encounter the enemy. The boys in Room 40 had as much as told him so. Around half-past noon (12:30) on 31 May, Rear-Admiral Jackson, the Admiralty D.O.D., had checked in with Room 40 to see where the German flagship was located. Room 40 had long ago established Sheer’s flagship (SMS Friedrich der Grosse) was assigned the wireless call-sign “DK”. By intercepting enemy messages, and taking the directional bearings at the same time, they knew exactly where the German flagship was located. When Jackson asked, Room 40 gave him the short answer – Wilhelmshaven. And if the flagship was still in port, that meant the Hochseeflotte was still at anchor. Without confirming the particulars with the Room 40 staff, or even consulting other Admiralty staff, he transmitted a message to Jellicoe…“DK still placed in Jade at 11:10 – Apparently they have been unable to carry out air reconnaissance which has delayed them.” The message was received by both the Grand Fleet and Beatty’s Battlecruiser Fleet. Suddenly, a trap certain to ensnare their enemy, had been transformed into just another training mission. With the wind blowing strong from the northwest, Jellicoe reasoned there was little likelihood the German airships could be used, and even less chance the Germans would put to sea without them. Now his thoughts turned to deciding if he could remain at sea and try again, tomorrow. Unfortunately for Jellicoe, the Hochseeflotte staff officers had grown suspicious when the Grand Fleet seemed to miraculously turn up everywhere they planned an operation. It was simply too often for it to be coincidence. Though suspicious, the German naval command never changed the codes. But two bright lads on Scheer’s staff came up with a plan and managed to convince Scheer to try it. Just before taking the battle squadrons to sea, Scheer’s flagship exchanged call signs with the radio station at the entrance of the III lock into Wilhelmshaven. The flagship now had a new call-sign Room 40 did not know, while the lock wireless station continued to transmit normal traffic as “DK” – giving the impression Friedrich der Grosse was still at anchor in the Jade. The end result was two great fleets steaming into the North Sea – and neither would know the other was out. The ironic twist – and there is always an ironic twist – is that the Germans transmitted a signal to all ships and stations announcing the exchange of call-signs, just to make sure everyone was on the same sheet of music. However, the Germans transmitted in an entirely different and little used cypher code. Room 40 was unable to decode the message right away, so with an operation in progress, they simply put it to one side and carried on – leaving Jellicoe unaware the German battle fleet had followed Hipper to sea. With a battle as controversial as Jutland, there always seems to be a second version of events, and this is no exception. In the alternative version, it is normal operating procedure for the German flagship to change call signs when it goes to sea – there was no attempt at deception. The problem occurred within the Admiralty. Rear-Admiral Jackson mistakenly asked the whereabouts of “DK” – the call sign – NOT the actual flagship. Had Jackson asked for the location of the German flagship, presumably, he would have been told it was at sea, and given the position based on the radio direction bearings. There is, of course, a problem with the second story. Once at sea, the Germans were unlikely to generate enough wireless traffic to provide Room 40 with a position fix. AND – my guess is that if Room 40 had any idea the German flagship was at sea – they would have notified the Admiralty staff and The Fleet immediately. But – I will leave you to decide which version of events sounds more logical. With four groups of capital ships steaming on converging courses, and the sun about to rise in the North Sea – let us take a moment to learn about the men who command them. THE PRINCIPLE COMMANDERS John Jellicoe in the uniform of “Admiral Of The Fleet” – circa 1917. Admiral Of The Fleet Sir John Rushworth Jellicoe, 1st Earl Jellicoe, Viscount Jellicoe of Scapa Flow: 1859 – 1935. Born the son of a merchant sea captain, John Jellicoe joined the Royal Navy in 1872 at the age of thirteen. He gradually rose through the ranks in the slow but steady career progression common to the Royal Navy in the Victorian Era. Attaining the rank of commander, he was serving in the Mediterranean aboard the battleship HMS Victoria in 1893 when it collided with HMS Camperdown and sank off Tripoli. The accident was the result of incompetent ship handling by Vice-Admiral Sir George Tryon. (Tryon at least had the good sense to go down with his ship.) In 1900, during the Boxer Rebellion, Captain Jellicoe commanded the battleship HMS Centurion, and was chief of staff to Admiral Sir Edward Seymour at the time of his relief expedition to Peking. Having been badly wounded ashore, at the Battle of Peitsang, Jellicoe refused to die and was appointed a Companion Of The Order Of The Bath, and also awarded the Imperial German Order Of The Red Eagle, 2nd class, with Crossed Swords. In 1905, Jellicoe was taken on as a protege of Admiral Jackie Fisher, and his career began to alternate between sea commands and assignments in the Admiralty. He was made Aide-de-Camp to the King-Emperor, Edward VII, in 1906, and promoted rear-admiral in 1907. He pushed hard for funds to modernize the navy, supported dreadnought construction, and campaigned tirelessly for improvements in gunnery fire control. In the first decade of the 20th Century, the Royal Navy had become obsessed with “spit and polish” and paid little attention to gunnery. British fleets spent much of their time steaming from port to port, reminding the world that Britannia ruled the waves, and touching-up their gleaming white paintwork. Gunnery practice was only mandated four times per year, and even then, there were no instructions, guidelines, or required performance standards. In fact, the only requirement was that a ship should expend 25% of its ammunition load at each practice. With such a slack attitude toward gunnery, it is not surprising that on more than one occasion, ship’s officers were known to have ordered the ammunition jettisoned over the side – rather than risk powder stains on the paint scheme. Jellicoe was appointed second-in-command of the Atlantic Fleet in 1907, Third Sea Lord in 1908, then moved to Commander-In-Chief Atlantic Fleet in 1910. Promoted vice-admiral in 1911, he became second-in-command of the Home Fleet, then commander of the 2nd Battle Squadron in 1912. In December 1912, he was appointed Second Sea Lord. With the outbreak of war in 1914, Winston Churchill removed Admiral George Callaghan as Commander-In-Chief Home Fleet, and promoted Jellicoe to full admiral to take command of the renamed “Grand Fleet”. There was some grumbling among the “senior” ranks in The Fleet over the precipitate manner in which Churchill promoted Jellicoe over the heads of officers with more seniority. But, despite the grumbling, the question remained – who better to command the Grand Fleet than Jellicoe? In 1902, as a young officer, he had shown an aptitude for gunnery and was sent to the new gunnery school aboard HMS Bulwark. By 1904 his quick grasp of technical issues found him selected to serve as a member of Fisher’s exploratory design committee for HMS Dreadnought. He then served as Third Sea Lord of the Admiralty under Fisher, making him responsible for developments in ship design, armor research and application – and -- development and advancement of warship guns and munitions. This post also gave him access to the latest information on the development of submarines, torpedoes, and mines, both at home and abroad. There was no other line officer in the Royal Navy possessed of such a comprehensive technical knowledge of the modern dreadnought. Simply put – he knew the strengths and weaknesses of each of his battleships and had the tactical knowledge to use them. Jellicoe, the man, had a spotless service record, was known as immensely capable, and was considerably more than “well-connected”, with friends in the very highest places. Despite all this, he was a modest man and sincerely placed the unity of his flag-officers and the well-being of the Fleet above his own ambitions. His very appearance bespoke modesty. He was just 5 feet 6 inches, with a spare frame, a tight-lipped mouth, and a somewhat prominent nose. He had kind eyes – a welcome feature to junior officers – but they were deceptive. He was quick and clever, saw everything, missed nothing, and instantly understood everything he had seen. His physical courage, though not often on display, was beyond doubt. As an “enlightened” admiral, he cared for each and every man under his command. Jellicoe was universally recognized as a superb seaman and an expert ship handler. Large fleets were notoriously difficult to handle in the early decades of the 20th Century, and his quick brain, cognitive powers, and instant commands were faultless – even in the midst of roaring battle. (It should be noted the Battle Fleet was far larger, and its battle line far longer, than any other at Jutland. And yet, there were no mistaken flag signals among the battleships.) Though he acted swiftly, he made careful and calculated decisions. Some have criticized him as over-cautious – he was not. But he was careful. Jellicoe understood the responsibility resting on his shoulders. Winston Churchill later said he was “...the only man on either side who could lose the war in an afternoon”. Though typical of Winston’s fondness for hyperbole, it is substantially true. If Jellicoe had rashly and recklessly sacrificed the Grand Fleet, the Hochseeflotte might have gained the upper hand, and the outcome of the war could have been different. Without giving undue weight to outrageous “what if” scenarios, there is little doubt a significant loss of capital ships would have considerably effected Britain’s political stance. Tactically, the British might even have lost the ability to effectively blockade the German ports. HMS Iron Duke, flagship of the Grand Fleet at the Battle of Jutland. Iron Duke Class: HMS Iron Duke, HMS Marlborough, HMS Benbow, HMS Emperor Of India – all commissioned 1914. Displacement: 25,820 tons – 21 knots – 10x13.5-inch guns – 12x6-inch guns – 4x21-inch torpedo tubes – belt armor 12 inches. Model courtesy of @Barroco Hispano. Vizeadmiral Carl Friedrich Heinrich Reinhard Scheer – 1863 – 1928. Reinhard Scheer was born to a middle-class family in Obernkirchen, Lower Saxony. He entered the Imperial navy in 1879, at age fifteen, as a naval cadet. His early grades in training exams were not spectacular, but he managed to achieve the second highest rating in his class for the 1880 “Sea Cadets” exam. He was sent for special training in gunnery, torpedo warfare, and naval infantry tactics. (In those days, many young officers would serve in the African colonies or on the China Station.) Scheer served in various posts aboard foreign station cruisers – some wooden-hulled and steam-driven. He participated in, and even led, some of the landing parties sent to keep order in the far-flung parts of the empire. By 1905, Scheer had attained the rank of Kapitan zur See and took command of the pre-dreadnought battleship SMS Elsass in 1907. In 1909 he became chief of staff to Flottenchef Admiral von Holtzendorff and, at age 47, reached flag rank less than 6 months later. By 1911, he had been transferred to the Reichsmarineamt, where he held the post of Chief of the General Naval Department. Scheer returned to sea duty in January 1913, with command of the II Battle Squadron, and was promoted to Vizeadmiral in December of that year. War broke out in 1914, and in January of the following year, he was given command of the modern and powerful dreadnoughts of the III Battle Squadron. In January 1916, Admiral von Pohl became too ill to carry on as Flottenchef, and Scheer was given the command. One of his first acts was to write “Guiding Principles For Sea Warfare In The North Sea” – not exactly a “catchy” title. But he outlined the idea that the Grand Fleet should be pressured by increased submarine warfare, Zeppelin raids, and more frequent sorties by the Hochseeflotte. This would force the Grand Fleet to abandon its distant blockade and actually pursue the German fleet. The Kaiser signed-off on the memorandum on 23 February 1916 – and with that approval – Scheer would be able to use the fleet more aggressively. Aged 52 when he took command, Scheer was known as an excellent seaman and could handle dreadnought formations as well as any man alive. He was widely regarded by his fellow officers as one of the ablest and quickest-thinking flag-officers in the Kaiserliche Marine. His vigorous and aggressive spirit was much admired and well known – even in the British Admiralty. In many ways Scheer was a very different man than Jellicoe. All they really seemed to have in common was a rapid and analytical thought process. He was energetic, active, and impatient. He wanted action – and he wanted it now. Scheer was a man that expected his staff to have detailed plans and orders for an operation – but they were often pushed aside as soon as he appeared on the bridge. He tended to command by instinct and made quick decisions. He preferred to have all options presented to him, and might then chose another option no one had considered. Scheer’s chief of staff, Admiral Adolf von Trotha, summed it up neatly...”In action he was cool and clear-headed. The pressure of Jutland showed his ability to think calmly in the midst of chaos – a great gift. And a man like that must be allowed to drive his subordinates mad.” Apparently, Admiral von Trotha had a sense of humor. SMS Friedrich der Grosse, flagship of the Hochseeflotte at Jutland. Kaiser Class: SMS Friedrich der Grosse - 1912, SMS Kaiserin - 1913, SMS Konig Albert - 1913, SMS Prinzregent Luitpold - 1912, SMS Kaiser – 1912 Displacement: 24,380 tons – 21 knots – 10x12-inch guns – 14x5.9-inch guns – 12x3.4-inch guns – 5x19.7-inch torpedo tubes – belt armor 13.75 inches. Model by “Barroco Hispano”. Admiral Of The Fleet Sir David Richard Beatty, 1st Earl Beatty, Viscount Borodale, and Baron Beatty of the North Sea and Brooksby – 1871 – 1936. Seen here in his uniform as a Vice-Admiral – circa 1915. The picture tells you very nearly everything you need to know about the man. The tailored uniform coat, the hands in the pockets, the affected stern, tight-lipped, steely glare, the casual air of a “rake” or a “maverick”, and the cap tilted at a jaunty angle over the left eye. Say what you will – the picture is the man. This “biographical sketch” will be a bit longer than the first two “players” – for two good reasons; (1) Beatty and his battlecruisers fought a goodly portion of the Battle of Jutland, and (2) There is simply so much more to say about an uncommonly “colorful” man. Born in Cheshire, Beatty’s father had served with the 4th Hussars, and three brothers served in the army – but Beatty chose to join the Royal Navy at age thirteen. He left Dartmouth Naval College in 1886 – but not with distinction. He was, however, possessed of a wealth of physical courage, a love of adventure, and a natural talent for “the dramatic”. All traits that were on display when indulging in his passion for fox hunting. (A bit of a “prima donna” before the phrase had become popular.) By 1896 he had been appointed second-in-command of the Nile Flotilla accompanying General Herbert Kitchener’s expedition into the Sudan. He proved very cool in a crisis – on more than one occasion -- and even personally jettisoned an unexploded shell from his gunboat while under fire. He demonstrated his ability to improvise under pressure and went out of his way to bedevil the hostile tribesmen. He earned both the D.S.O. and Kitchener’s admiration. (Something Winston Churchill – attached to Kitchener’s staff – was unable to do.) Four years later, and promoted to commander, Beatty again distinguished himself in action during the Boxer Rebellion. Leading a naval contingent from the fleet, Beatty saw combat at Tianjin and was wounded in the left arm and wrist. His heroism won him promotion to captain at age 29 and made him a celebrated hero back home. Returning to England, Beatty began a long, and sometimes difficult, marriage to divorcee Ethel Tree, heiress to the Marshall-Fields (Chicago) department store fortune. The marriage liberated Beatty financially, and put him on the “A-list” of guests at Edwardian house parties, allowing him to travel in the best social circles. Her money also bought him a steam yacht, an estate in the Leicestershire fox-hunting country, and a Scottish grouse moor. But it was akin to a Greek Tragedy. She was also a notorious “flirt”, and Beatty suffered “the tortures of the damned”. Serving afloat in a variety of warships, including command of a battleship, he also rotated through a wide range of shore duties – including an appointment as Aide-de-Camp to King George V in 1908. Despite having served on several ships, his experience in command of big ships was limited, with NO experience at squadron level under his belt. Nevertheless -- Beatty was promoted rear-admiral in 1910 – the youngest officer to attain that rank in a century. Winston Churchill was appointed First Lord of the Admiralty in 1911, and regardless of warnings about Beatty’s youth and impertinence, he made the young man his naval secretary. Churchill thought he recognized a bright and rising star in a sky that was momentarily dull due to lack of war-like employment. In 1913, command of the Battlecruiser Squadron came open – and to no one’s surprise – Churchill appointed Beatty. There were surprising similarities between the careers of Lord Nelson and David Beatty – if you chose to see them. And Churchill’s sense of the melodramatic may have unduly influenced him. Otherwise, why appoint a man with little ship handling experience and only a shaky grasp of modern naval technology and tactics? (No matter that Beatty was promoted over the heads of several senior officers.) HMS Dreadnought had changed the face of naval warfare in 1905. By 1916, Beatty would fly his flag in HMS Lion – a 26,000 ton monster with 13.5-inch guns and capable of a remarkable 26.5 knots. Naval engagements – which Beatty had never witnessed – would now unfold much more quickly, travel at greater speed, engage at longer ranges, and fire considerably bigger shells with enormous destructive power. The battle line, itself, was no longer a compact fighting unit – with 100 yards between ships. The new dreadnoughts were 200 yards long and required an interval between ships of 400 yards to avoid collisions and provide dispersal under fire. Ship handling in the modern Royal Navy was no job for unpracticed amateurs – especially in the confusion and chaos of battle. At the same time, signaling between ships had become a critical tool of command and control. If a ship’s wireless antennas were shot away, the only alternative was a signal lamp or flag hoists. And the very act of signaling was often carried out under near impossible conditions. When Beatty assumed command of the squadron he chose Lieutenant Ralph Seymour as his “flag lieutenant” (Admiral’s signals officer). Seymour did have aristocratic connections – and – his sister was a great friend of Churchill’s wife. “Influence” appointments were common in those days, but Beatty chose to overlook the fact that Seymour had NO experience whatever as a signals officer. This later caused a great deal of trouble. When people spoke of Beatty – “brash”, “rash”, “reckless”, “hotheaded”, and “impetuous” – were the adjectives most often used. And more often than not, they were used by the older and cooler heads in the Admiralty. In 1914 and 1915, this sort of behavior was on full display. Beatty led the Battlecruiser Squadron in the major clashes of Heligoland Bight and Dogger Bank (among others) – and neither he, nor his captains, seemed to learn any lessons from them. Beatty had simply charged into battle with guns blazing and gave little thought to tactics and the proper employment of his technologically advanced warships. The British demonstrated clear difficulties in reporting information up the chain of command, as well as serious foul-ups in signaling, in general. British ammunition handling procedures were seriously deficient, and Beatty placed no emphasis on gunnery practice – so they rarely hit the target. And while Beatty basked in the warmth of public adoration – the mistakes and failures were ignored, and the lessons went unlearned. After Dogger Bank, Beatty was lauded as the hero of the hour for having routed the German battlecruisers. But the reality is -- he had simply been lucky. Beatty had not prepared his squadron for modern battle. In the “old traditions” of the Royal Navy, he had not briefed his captains or prepared them with “basic fighting instructions” (as Jellicoe had done) – he merely chose to “have at the enemy” in something like an old-fashioned cavalry charge. (Follow me, Lads !) He had not been able to control his ships very well – signals were often confusing, misdirected to a given ship, or simply poorly worded by an inexperienced “flag-lieutenant”. In many cases, he failed to even make signals -- leaving his captains to guess at his intentions. The lack of gunnery practice resulted in an estimated 1% hit ratio (one out of every hundred shells fired managed to find a target). And – he very nearly lost his flagship to superior German gunnery. Beatty could lead men into battle, but he could not prepare them for it, nor could he direct them once battle was joined. In March 1915, after Dogger Bank, Jellicoe wrote Beatty a lengthy, but discreet letter. He chose not to give the younger man a verbal thrashing – after all, Beatty had managed to sink SMS Blucher. Instead, Jellicoe opted for a diplomatically phrased word of advice and caution. Like many at the Admiralty, Jellicoe worried Beatty’s impetuous nature and total lack of caution might lead the Battlecruiser Squadron headlong into a German ambush – and a resulting disaster. He expressed the fear that Hipper’s battlecruisers might lead Beatty on a merry chase, ending when the Hochseeflotte opened fire. If there was ever an answer to Jellicoe’s letter – it has not survived the century that has passed since Jutland. And if Beatty read the letter, he certainly learned nothing from it – Hipper would prove that. There was little doubt Britain longed for a Nelsonian hero at this hour, but there was no Nelson. The legendary Admiral had understood the capabilities of his ships, knew his gunnery to be superior to that of his enemy, and had planned his battles. More importantly -- he had prepared his captains to play their part. Beatty did not comprehend the strengths and weaknesses of his dreadnoughts, and his lack of forethought ensured they would come off a poor second to the Hochseeflotte’s gunnery. David Beatty looked and acted the dashing hero every man wanted to be, but he had no grasp of the responsibility of command, nor the necessity for control. He could lead, but he could not direct. HMS Lion, flagship of the Battlecruiser Fleet – attached to the Grand Fleet at Jutland. Lion Class: HMS Lion (1912) – HMS Princess Royal (1912) – HMS Queen Mary (1915) Displacement: 26,270 tons – 27 knots – 8x13.5-inch guns – 16x4-inch guns – 15x4-inch guns – 2x21-inch torpedo tubes – belt armor 9 inches. Model by “Barroco Hispano”. Vizeadmiral Franz Ritter von Hipper – 1863 – 1932: seen here in his Vizeadmiral’s uniform – circa 1916. Franz von Hipper was born in Weilheim, Oberbayern (Upper Bavaria), some 40 miles south of Munich, and his shop-keeper father died when he was just three years old. Coming from humble origins, he concentrated on an education so he could make his mark in life. At age 16, he decided to join the fledgling Imperial Navy and two years later graduated officer training. (Ludwig II – “The Mad King” – was on the throne of Bavaria.) One of his fellow classmates (class of 1881) was Wilhelm Souchon, who would go on to successful command of SMS Goeben in 1914. As a “sea cadet”, Hipper served on the old sailing frigate SMS Niobe for six months, then attended Naval Cadet School in Kiel, followed by Gunnery School on SMS Mars. Hipper returned to sea duty aboard the training ship SMS Friedrich Carl before transferring to the steam corvette SMS Leipzig for a two-year world cruise. Returning in October 1884, the young man was assigned as a divisional drill officer training recruits for the First Naval Battalion. Even in its early years, the Kaiserliche Marine was known to rotate officers in and out of various commands so they would have an excellent, all-around knowledge of the service and how it operated. By 1898, Hipper was serving as navigator aboard the pre-dreadnought battleship SMS Kurfurst Friedrich Wilhelm, then transferred to the Imperial Yacht Hohenzollern in September 1899. While serving aboard, he was present for the trip to England for Queen Victoria’s funeral in 1901, and the cruise to America the following year. During his assignment, he was awarded the Prussian Order Of The Red Eagle, the Bavarian Military Service Order, and the Order Of St. Stanislaus (awarded by Tsar Nicholas II). Hipper was promoted to Korvettenkapitan in June 1901. In October 1902, he was assigned to command the Second Torpedo Unit until 1905, and was promoted to Fregattenkapitan. He then attended advanced gunnery courses for cruisers and battleships. Hipper was appointed to command several cruisers in succession, and in 1907, was promoted Kapitan zur See. The same year he was in attendance during a three-day meeting between the Kaiser and the Tsar, and was awarded the Order Of St. Andrew by the Tsar. In 1908, Hipper took command of the First Torpedo Boat Division for a period of three years, during which he trained more than half of the torpedo boats in the Kaiserliche Marine. October 1911 saw Hipper take command of the armored cruiser SMS Yorck and also assume the position of chief of staff to Konteradmiral Gustav Bachmann, Deputy Flag Officer, Reconnaissance Forces. In January 1912, Hipper became Deputy Commander, Reconnaissance Forces and was promoted to Konteradmiral. In October 1913, Hipper was appointed to command the 1st Scouting Group of the Hochseeflotte – a position he would fulfill with distinction. At age 50, Konteradmiral Franz Hipper rose to the command of a unit that would become legendary in the annals of naval history – and would make him famous as well. He worked the 1st Scouting Group hard – even in peacetime – training them in ship handling, squadron maneuvers, and especially gunnery. Hipper was practical and produced results. He knew guns were useless if you couldn’t hit the target, and his crews worked hard to earn the Kaiser’s prized shooting trophy. His men came to have complete confidence in him and his abilities. Not all naval officers responded to fast ships and tended to handle them like the lumbering battleships of the battle line. But Hipper was different, and quite unusual for a senior German officer. There was something of the “buccaneer” in him, and he reveled in the big cruisers speed and big guns. He understood them – understood how they were meant to work -- and knew how to use them. He was completely confident he had the skill to take them anywhere they were needed, and do whatever was required of them. Hipper never took a Staff College course and disliked theoretical speculation. Instead, he took in large amounts of information in a short time and retained it all – making decisions without hesitation. His operations were planned carefully, taking into account a wide range of factors – especially intelligence gathered by U-boats and Zeppelins. Hipper thought fast on his feet and proved to be a cool customer under fire. He was a gifted tactician with quick perception and a keen “seaman’s eye”. He got the most out of his ships, and kept tight control of his squadron when in combat. Hipper’s flagship always led the column and he took risks – but they were calculated risks. He handled the big battlecruisers like squadrons of heavy cavalry, and the man hand nerves of steel. Hipper was known to be energetic and hard working – but loathed paperwork and was quite content to leave that to his staff. He was well-liked by his subordinates and treated his staff with courtesy and great kindness. He was all business when at sea, but often sent his aides to sleep or eat when he had done neither. His personal modesty and cordial friendliness made him much loved by his men. He trained his crews hard and often, and respected officers that ran taught ships, but aboard SMS Seydlitz, when the crew saluted him – they were happy to do so. SMS Lutzow, flagship of the 1st Scouting Group – attached to the Hochseeflotte at Jutland. Derfflinger Class: SMS Derfflinger (1914) – SMS Lutzow (1915) – SMS Hindenburg (1917) Displacement: 26,180 tons – 27 knots – 8x12-inch guns – 14x5.9-inch guns – 4x19.7-inch torpedo tubes – belt armor 12 inches. Model courtesy of "Barroco Hispano". NEXT TIME…… AN INNOCUOUS LITTLE STEAMER Again, my apologies…… I have been unable to create very many in-game pictures to cover the text of this chapter, so we will continue our tour of Cuxhaven…… This is another view of the West Loch of the Cuxhaven Dockyards. A first glance shows six ships moored to buoys in the center of the roadsted. As mentioned in Chapter 28, this small squadron of two armored cruisers and two light cruisers will be accompanied by two colliers on the long voyage to Imperial Germany’s China Station, in Tsingtau. They will significantly increase Germany’s power and influence in the region. Starting at the “tail” of the line you see the modern armored cruiser SMS Gneisenau, preparing to take aboard stores and provisions. Moored ahead of her is SMS Scharnhorst (flagship). (For details on these pictures, see Chapter 7.) The big armored cruisers are by “AP”. https://i.imgur.com/spzTJtJ.jpg[/img Moored ahead of the armored cruisers are two light cruisers of the Jurien de la Graviere Class. These are French cruisers, but I selected them because...(1) they were active prior to, and during WW I...(2) I wanted to provide a bit of variety to the cruiser mix – the number of German cruiser models available was somewhat limited...and (3) they are quite interesting in their appearance. To their port side, you see two moored colliers that will accompany the squadron. https://i.imgur.com/DYGnYGs.jpg[/i This is a very handsome, and highly detailed model, provided by @Barroco Hispano, and is indicative of French naval architecture of the period. The French navy was distinctive for the numerous funnels aboard their ships – and unique in the way they tended to separate them into groups. Displacement was 6,175 tons – 22.8 knots – 8x6.5-inch guns -- 10x1.9-inch Hotchkiss guns -- 6x1.5-inch guns -- 2x18-inch torpedo tubes. The only armor amounted to a 1.77-inch deck, a 3.9-inch conning tower, and 2.8-inch gun shields. Technically, she was a “protected cruiser”. The main armament is arranged in two single, shielded gun mounts fore and aft, with six more guns mounted amidships in sponsoned hull casemates (shown here with the armored shutters open). An Odin Class tug is seen nudging a lighter of provisions alongside – courtesy of “AP”. In this view of Jurien de la Graviere you can see the extremely fine lines of her hull. She had a length to width ration of nearly 9 to 1 – giving her a clean and extremely hydrodynamic hull form. Unfortunately, her hull was constructed of light frames and scantlings, which caused violent vibrations at her cruising speed of 10 knots. These vibrations frequently broke voice tubes and boiler piping. This very handsome collier is the SS Erlangen, and @AP has done wonders with the old girl. From the weathered hull, to the rusty brown forecastle deck plating, and the soot-smudged funnels – she is every bit a worn and over-worked collier from the early years of the 20th Century. Note the details on the ship’s boats, the weathered texture of the fantail awning, and the detailed rendering of the cargo booms. Colliers were an essential element to the operation of warships of this era, and we could not possibly have left them out. Erlangen represents a Norddeutscher Line collier that would have been leased by the Imperial Navy to provide coal for the warships on their way to China. Germany relied heavily on leased colliers, mostly from neutral nations, since they only had small naval commitments abroad. In peacetime, the Hochseeflotte rarely ventured into the Atlantic – and never beyond Norwegian or Spanish waters. In wartime – the battle fleet confined its operations to the North Sea. This is another view showing the unusually fine lines designed into this collier. SS Erlangen was based on the US Navy’s Prometheus Class colliers, and they were chosen for their modern features, as well as their unusually clean and handsome lines not found in other colliers. She displaced approximately 9,000 tons, was 466 feet in length, was capable of 16 knots, and could carry an estimated 7,000 tons of coal. Once the squadron arrives at Tsingtau, Erlangen will obtain another cargo – possibly in Yokohama or Nagasaki – and work her way back to Germany. The unusual ship in the center is the USS Proteus, name ship of a class of four colliers built for the US Navy in the early 1900’s. Commissioned in 1913, she displaced 19,000 tons, had a speed of 15 knots, and could carry 8,000 tons of coal. She was purpose-built as a collier by the Newport News Shipbuilding & Dry Dock Company. I chose this ship to represent colliers built specifically to operate as naval auxiliaries. The US Navy chose not to rely exclusively on leased colliers, largely due to the vast stretches of the Pacific Ocean, and their reluctance to be at the political mercy of neutral nations. Naval engineers drew her plans specifically to be able to handle two warships at the same time – and as quickly as possible. I also chose Proteus because her design is unique among all the colliers. This is another view of Proteus, this one showing her extremely long and narrow hull. It can easily be seen the midship’s portion of the hull is entirely occupied by coal storage holds, and cargo derricks designed to disburse the cargo in a speedy and efficient manner. The aft portion of the ship contains the engines, boilers, ship’s galley, Mess and Ward rooms, and the officer’s quarters. This view of Proteus’ bow shows the “conning bridge” of the ship. It is a very spartan arrangement, just big enough to hold the watch officer, a helmsman, perhaps the captain, and a couple of ratings. The bridge has been raised above the deck to allow heavy seas to pass beneath. The skylights in the forecastle deck are designed to allow light into the crew quarters below. These may look like small quarters, but it must be remembered, Proteus is not a warship and was crewed by only 158 officers and men. This view also allows close examination of the working booms and derricks installed between the cargo hatches. “AP” scratch-built this unique model and went to great lengths to make sure the complicated derrick system, and all its lines and rigging, have been duplicated properly. Here you have a detail shot of the aft superstructure -- such as it is. Please note the overhead crane gantry rigged over the two aft coal hatches (white), and four “reddish” hatch covers on the aft superstructure. This system is designed to bring coal from the two holds forward and deposit it in the four aft hatch openings to feed the boiler room coal bunkers. The two funnels placed side-by-side is an arrangement not commonly found on modern ships. You will also note a raised aft steering bridge extends the width of the ship at the fantail. All in all – great effort had gone into the design of the Proteus Class ships – and resulted in the simplified elegance of a rather large floating coal pile. The small machinery and crew spaces have been subordinated to the purpose of getting the coal where it needs to go. And “AP’s” wonderfully detailed model has captured every aspect of that simple elegance. (The Proteus Class collier prop-packs are available in the STEX -- "Historic Navies: 1900 -- Pack #28.) I cannot leave you without mentioning the “Twilight Zone” aspect of the Proteus colliers. During WW I, USS Cyclops, a sister-ship of Proteus, was known to have been in Barbados in March 1918 -- bound for Bermuda. She never reached Bermuda and was never seen again, nor has her wreckage ever been located. She is best remembered as one of the “ghost ships” of “The Bermuda Triangle”. During WW II (10 December 1941) USS Nereus, another of the Proteus Class, sailed from St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands bound for Bermuda (sailing the same sea lane Cyclops had taken). She never arrived in Bermuda and was presumed to have been torpedoed by a German U-Boat. But surviving U-Boat war diaries do not claim any such sinking. It is possible a submarine sank the collier, and was lost soon after -- but there is no record of a lost U-Boat near the area at that time. The wreck of USS Nereus has never been located. Did “The Bermuda Triangle” claim two sister-ships in two different World Wars? Only Rod Serling could answer that question…... MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his beautiful warship models. SPECIAL THANKS to my friend and partner, @AP, for his talents and extreme dedication. If you enjoyed anything – please punch the “like” button so WE will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of our ability. THANK YOU for your visit! You may wish to visit these CJ’s as well…… SERIES I: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: WILHELMSHAVEN SERIES II: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN Appearing – Work In Publication SERIES III: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: BREMERHAVEN Appearing -- ??? And please feel free to drop in at… THE SIMTROPOLIS SHIPYARD https://community.simtropolis.com/forums/topic/761469-simtropolis-shipyard/?tab=comments#comment-1766496
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Chapter 07: The Last Of The Armored Cruisers
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN
SMS Scharnhorst - 1908 – Photographed during her speed trials. IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN By: Dreadnought & AP Chapter 07: THE LAST OF THE ARMORED CRUISERS Once the Oberkommando der Marine faced the fact that Admiral Tirpitz (Secretary Of State for the Navy) was building a fleet to be used against Great Britain, the whole course of strategic thinking changed. The design for the next class of armored cruisers was well under way, when the naval architects received a directive in mid-1904. The new design should be a considerably improved version of the Roon Class that would be capable of not only parity with British cruisers, but should be able to fight with the battle line in an emergency. This was, in many respects, a giant leap for the Imperial Navy. And though they did not yet know it, the entire concept of naval design would soon outstrip anything they had ever known. Another shot of Scharnhorst – on her second day of speed trials. Note the height of the bow wave in relation to the people on the forecastle. SCHARNHORST CLASS ARMORED CRUISERS The new cruisers would be the Scharnhorst Class (sister ship Gneisenau). Some naval analysts call them the last German armored cruisers. Some call them the last “traditional” class of German armored cruisers. And still other analysts make no distinction whatever. I have always thought of these ships as the last “true” German armored cruisers to be built – because what followed them was “neither fish nor foul” (to borrow a line from Shakespeare). But there will be more on that subject in the next chapter. The new design was based on incremental improvements of the preceding classes, beginning with Prinz Heinrich, and was the final culmination of that evolutionary process. The ship was named after Generalleutnant Gerhard von Scharnhorst, a Prussian army reformer during the Napoleonic Era. Perhaps his greatest contribution was laying the groundwork for the command and control concept that would become the “Great General Staff”. Scharnhorst was laid down in march 1905 at Blohm & Voss, Hamburg, and commissioned into the fleet in October of 1907. Scharnhorst Class – Plan Profile. The new armored cruisers displaced 12,985 tons -- about a 3,500 ton increase over the Roon Class, and roughly comparable with cruiser displacement in the Royal Navy. The bulk of the added tonnage would go to increased armament, additional armor, and an increase in speed. At 474 feet, she was nearly 25 feet longer than Roon, and the additional length was quite becoming. It displayed the long, clean lines well, and gave her a “sleek” look that bespoke speed and power. The hull was built with transverse and longitudinal steel frames, over which, the hull plating was riveted. These ships were designed with 15 watertight compartments and a double bottom over 50% of the ship’s length. Here you see Scharnhorst at her mooring buoy in the West Loch of Cuxhaven naval base. This picture gives a good view of the “streamlined” hull form. Her “length-to-beam” ratio is about 6.5 to 1, which naval architects sometimes call the “Golden Ratio”. It is considered the optimal ratio for fast hull forms (without going to extremes). On the left, you see a Midgard Class tug passing outboard of a Jupiter Class collier (more on that one later). The cruiser’s triple screw arrangement was driven by three 3-cylinder triple-expansion engines powered by 18 coal-fired, water-tube boilers, with 36 fire boxes. The boiler uptakes were trunked into four funnels, a bit taller than usual, to keep the bridge and fighting-tops clear of smoke in a following wind. The engine design was rated at 26,000 shp for a speed of 22.5 knots, but on trials Scharnhorst achieved 28,782 shp for a speed of 23.5 knots. Gneisenau generated 30,396 shp and managed 23.6 knots. The maximum coal bunker capacity was 2,000 tons, which provided an operating radius of 4,800 miles at 14 knots. The crew was made up of 52 officers and 788 enlisted men. This is an excellent broadside view of the cruiser. Amidships, you see the slab-sided, pyramid-like arrangement of broadside guns. The two round, yellow-ocher, turrets are two 8.3-inch guns mounted in “turreted casemates” on either broadside. The three guns below that are 5.9-inch secondary guns mounted in casemated turrets at main deck level. Notice the searchlights in both fighting tops, and two each mounted on a broadside platform between the second and third funnels. I should also mention the paint scheme. The white hull – yellow-ocher upper works – and black funnel caps – is the standard paint scheme of the Imperial Navy on foreign duty stations. Since Scharnhorst served most of her career as flagship of the East Asiatic Squadron, she was assigned an additional 14 officers and 62 enlisted men as the squadron commander’s staff. No one really stops to think about the requirements of squadron command. But as the only German Asian Station, the ships based at Tsingtao were responsible for an area stretching from Vladivostok, Russia, to Sydney, Australia, and from Bombay, India, to the shores of sunny California – virtually the entire, vast, Pacific Ocean. Scharnhorst did not spend a great deal of time lying at anchor off Tsingtao -- she spent much of her time at sea, even visiting the tiny Pacific island archipelagos. And having ships scattered in all directions, carrying out a multitude of duties, required a well-trained and competent staff. Whether you’re a squadron commander or a fleet commander, competent staff work could spell the difference between victory or defeat. (Royal Navy Signals Officers would prove particularly troublesome when the “big show” came in the North Sea.) Previous scene from a different angle. The cruiser, motor launch, mooring buoy, boat boom, small boats, collier, and the cruiser in the right lower corner, are all courtesy of @AP. The cruiser’s main battery comprised eight 8.3-inch SK-L/40 (QF) guns – double the number on the Roon Class. Four of the guns were mounted in two hydraulically operated DrL-C/01 twin turrets, one fore and one aft of the main superstructure, on the centreline. The remaining four 8.3-inch guns were mounted amidships, two on either beam, in casemated single turrets. These guns had electric training, but only manual elevation. It is worth noting these guns were positioned on the weather deck -- high enough to remain dry during high speeds or even extremely rough weather. The fore and aft turreted guns could fire a 238-lb armor-piercing shell out to 18,000 yards at a rate of 5 rounds per minute. The turreted casemate guns had a limited elevation and could only reach 13,500 yards. A total allowance of 700 shells were stored in the magazines. This view shows a flag hoist flying from the foremast signaling “raise steam – five hours” – indicating to other ships of the squadron to prepare for departure. A motor launch has pulled alongside with final orders for the squadron, and overseas dispatches and diplomatic communications to be delivered along the way. Scharnhorst, flagship of the small squadron, is bound for Tsingtao to relieve the old flagship of the East Asiatic Squadron – Furst Bismarck. The secondary battery was made up of six 5.9-inch SK-L/40 (QF) guns mounted amidships in turreted casemates, three on either broadside. They fired an 88-lb shell out to approximately 14,000 yards at a rate of five rounds per minute. These guns, as usual, were mounted too low in the hull and during any sort of bad weather they would be awash and virtually useless. You must imagine a gun crew working ankle-deep in sea water – passing 88-lb shells, loading, aiming, and firing – at about ten second intervals – over, and over, and over. Now imagine the deck beneath them is rolling from side to side with the waves – and pitching up at the bow, then coming down again. And, finally – imagine the cruiser pounding into a twelve foot wave at 27 miles per hour – and the shell-handler and his shell get slammed by a solid wall of frothing water!! If you can imagine that – then you fully understand why those guns become useless in “wet” weather. For close-in torpedo boat defense, Scharnhorst carried eighteen 3.5-inch SK-L/35 (QF) guns mounted in individual casemates in the hull and superstructure, as well as on deck in pivot mounts with shields. They fired a 15-lb shell out to 9,100 yards at the rate of 15 per minute. And, of course, the obligatory submerged 17.7-inch torpedo tubes – four each – one in the bow and stern, and one on either broadside. There is a great deal of small boat activity alongside Scharnhorst. Hooking onto the boat boom is a cutter with green mail bags from shore – probably the last mail they will see for many weeks. A whale boat full of men have been recalled from shore – the last of the shore parties. And two more whale boats rowing in with their stern sheets full of officers. They have been called aboard the flagship to receive final sailing instructions. To get some idea of the level of detail “AP” has built into this model – at the ship’s bow you can see the individual and unique ship’s badge found on all medium to large size Imperial warships. This one is a shield of blue with a diagonal white stripe. Also, if you examine the forward turret, you can see a sailor straddling the left gun tube. He is applying a coat of oil to the barrels before sailing – it helps prevent rust on long voyages. Both Scharnhorst and Gneisenau were armored with Krupp Cemented Steel, and someone in the Naval High Command had finally gotten serious about catching up to the British. A series of tests at the Navy’s firing range in Meppen, proved conclusively the 3.9 inch belt of previous cruiser classes was too thin to stop even medium caliber shells. The new cruisers would have a waterline armor belt of 5.9 inches covering the midships area from the forward conning tower to just aft of the rear control position. This was a significant increase over previous armored cruisers and matched their British counterparts. Beyond the midships armor belt, a belt of 3.1 inches extended to the bow, and a similar belt ran almost to the stern. The entire belt was backed with 2.2 inches of teak planking to reduce splinter and “spalling” effects. Spalling occurs when thick, face-hardened, armor is struck by a shell that fails to penetrate the plate. Instead of penetration, the inner side of the armor plate fractures and flakes, hurling shrapnel inboard with great force. The protective armored deck varied in thickness with 2.4 inches over critical areas (magazines, engines, boilers, steering gear) and thinning to 1.4 inches in less critical places. The sloping sides (below the waterline) were 2.2 inches and connected to the bottom of the main belt. The forward conning tower was 7.9 inches, while the aft conning tower received 2 inches. The main battery turrets had 6.7-inch sides with a 1.2-inch roof, while the main battery guns in the turreted casemates were protected with 5.9-inch gun shields. The turret barbettes were 5.5 inches thick. The secondary battery turreted casemates were protected by an armored strake 5.1 inches thick, and the guns, themselves, had 3.1-inch shields. In this close-up of Scharnhorst’s stern, you can see a group of sailors lounging about on the fantail. Behind and in front of them are the skylights for the admiral’s quarters below decks. Both Scharnhorst and Gneisenau were designed to accommodate a flag officer, either as a squadron commander, or as a foreign station commander. In this case, the admiral will be sharing his quarters with four 3.5 inch anti-torpedo boat guns (mounted in the semi-circular hull sponsons at the stern). You can see four more of these guns, in pivot mounts with gun shields, grouped around the aft military mast. This also gives you a better look at “AP’s” boat-loads of officers approaching the ship. After commissioning in October 1907, Scharnhorst began sea trials, which were interrupted for a week in November. She escorted the Hohenzollern, with Wilhelm II aboard, to Vlissingen (Flushing), in the Netherlands, and then on to Portsmouth. Scharnhorst returned to Kiel to finish trials, but on 14 January, 1908, ran aground off Bulk Light on the Bulker Huk headland, near the entrance to the Kiel fjord. Repairs were completed on 22 February, and trials were wrapped-up on April 30. The remainder of 1908 was spent in normal peacetime routine, training exercises, and fleet maneuvers. And 1909 started well when she was appointed Flagship Scouting Forces, Hochseeflotte. But less than two months later, she received orders for the Far East, and would carry Konteradmiral Friedrich von Ingenohl to Tsingtao, to assume command of the East Asiatic Squadron. Upon completing preparations for the voyage, the big cruiser weighed anchor on 1 April, 1909, and departed Kiel. She transited the Kaiser Wilhelm I Canal, steamed out of the Elbe, and set course for the English Channel. This was always a poignant moment for the officers and men of a warship. They watched as the shores of the Vaterland dropped astern – and none could know when they would see home again. SMS GNEISENAU SMS Gneisenau – circa 1909 – photographed possibly in Kiel. SMS Gneisenau was ordered in June 1904, under the provisions of the Second Naval Law of 1900, and was named in honor of Generalfeldmarshall Graf Neidhardt von Gneisenau, a major player in the defeat and abdication of Napoleon Bonaparte. Her keel was laid at AG Weser Shipyard, Bremen, in December. A lengthy shipyard strike seriously delayed her launch until June 1906. At the ceremony, she was christened by Generalfeldmarschall Alfred von Schlieffen, Chief of the Great General Staff. The ship was then moved to Wilhelmshaven for the arduous fitting-out process and was finally commissioned into the fleet in March, 1908. Overlooking minor differences, and the odd ton of displacement, Gneisenau was, in all specifications, an identical twin to Scharnhorst. Sea trials began in late March and finished in mid-July, when Gneisenau was assigned to the 1st Scouting Group of the Hochseeflotte. Her first commanding officer was Kapitan zur See Franz von Hipper. Gneisenau spent just 14 months with 1st Scouting Group, sailing on the 1908 annual Atlantic cruise within days of her assignment. Two Scouting Groups and the battleship squadrons of the Hochseeflotte departed Kiel on 17 July, transited the Kaiser Wilhelm I Canal, crossed the North Sea, and on into the Atlantic. The warships practiced formation maneuvers (Often called “evolutions” rather than exercises.) -- battle tactics – and tested wireless communications over long distances. The fleet returned on 13 August, took on coal and provisions, and departed on 27 August for the Autumn maneuvers. The following year was spent in much the same way, two Atlantic cruises – February thru March -- and again in July thru August, with port calls in Spain on the Fall cruise. Later in the year, Gneisenau escorted the Kaiser’s yacht, Hohenzollern, to a location off the coast of Finland for a meeting with Tsar Nicholas II. And after one more fleet cruise to Norway, Gneisenau was given sailing orders for the Far East. SMS Gneisenau lies moored to a buoy astern of Scharnhorst in Cuxhaven’s West Loch. Pursuant to orders, she has joined the squadron bound for Tsingtao, and has been taking aboard stores and provisions for the journey. A crane barge is transferring stores from a cargo barge alongside. Having just come off the Norway cruise, the larders need filling and there is precious little time to do it. Kapitan zur See Trummler would have liked to get his engines overhauled before the long trip. But there were no docks or basins available, so the engineers will have to make do. Much of yesterday was spent in the Cuxhaven roadsted at the coaling docks. All hands (save the engineering section) were “turned to” and spent a back-breaking day shifting just over 1,400 tons of coal into the bunkers. Afterwards, the crew washed down the decks and superstructure to remove the thick film of coal dust, while the ship returned to her moorings in the West Loch. The engineers have been giving the engines a thorough examination -- adjusting drive links, tightening the odd bolt, checking for signs of wear, and lubricating everything. In the top right, you see the coastal freighter “Albatross” making it’s way through the busy harbor. And on the bottom right you see the paddle tug “Helena” towing a lighter full of various ship’s stores. The white harbor tug is from “WolfZe”, and it should be noted the paddle tug Helena and her lighter tow are “diagonal” models. Even as cargo continues to come aboard, the crew has started hoisting in the ship’s boats. You can see the ship’s crane ready to swing one inboard and secure it for sea. An Esmeralda Class paddle tug is standing by, and if you look at the tug’s masts, you can see the emergency sail rig furled along a yardarm and gaff. The cruiser, tug, and sailors are by “AP”, while the barge crane and cargo barge are borrowed from PEG’s Seaport series -- “Bubba’s Bulk Barge”. This is a close-up of the cruiser’s bow. Again, all the stays and rigging have been put in just as they would have been. And “AP” took great pains to make sure the rigging would display appropriately at various zoom levels. You see an excellent stern view of the paddle tug Esmeralda. And a nice view of two small boats approaching. They had been standing by at a nearby landing, awaiting two officers returning from leave, as well as picking up petty officers that had gone ashore on errands. In this port side view, you can see a small dingy has been hoisted and secured at its’ davits – two crewmen are unloading boxes and bags. On the stern, cargo is being hoisted aboard, broken down to smaller lots, and carried below decks. The stern companionway hatch is also open – no doubt the Kapitan’s steward has arranged for a few delicacies to grace his master’s table. Gneisenau has also brought aboard several hundred gallons of paint. She had been painted in the “foreign station colors” back in May, when she was expected to sail for China. But the Naval High Command suspended the sailing orders, feeling it would look better to foreign observers if the new cruiser was present through the training season. Consequently, she spent many days at sea in rough weather and her hull and upper-works show severe weathering. That means the squadron commander will have to find a quite little bay along the route where they can anchor and slap on some paint. (One simply does not arrive at a new duty station looking like a worn-out tramp steamer!) In this view of Gneisenau’s stern, you can see sailors on the fantail hauling boxes from the pile near the turret, down to the aft companion ladder to go below decks. This is a close-up of the replenishment operation. The white steam tug is courtesy of “WolfZe”, and is actually a bit of a “classic”. It’s patterned after harbor tugs common to many ports, but especially New York harbor in 1900 up through the 1940’s. The paddle tug on the left is a Sophia Class and the one on the right is an Esmeralda Class, both by “AP”, and both patterned after the British paddle tug “Carleton Hall”. This particular tug was launched in 1914 for use in the “Tyneside” coaling trade, but the basic form of the steam-powered paddlewheel tugboat first appeared around 1814, with the last working boats being retired around 1964. These are beautiful little boats -- colorful, historically accurate, and superbly modeled. I would have built a whole harbor just to showcase these little beauties! Another view of the offshore replenishment. The barges are by “PEG” and can be found in their “Bubba’s Bulk Barge” download (STEX). But I caution you – working with them is a real headache. They were originally modeled for use with a pier attached to land – which meant they could be “anchored” to the shore portion of the pier, and did not have to “float”. The result is that they were rendered with a hefty “offset” and can be very difficult to use. But they were exactly what I needed to create this scene – so I decided to “bite the bullet” and MAKE them work. The sailors wandering around atop the cargo on the barge are, of course, by “AP”. The following four shots are close-up views of the SS Albatross, a small coastal freighter much like hundreds of others that go about their business in the shallow coastal waters of every continent in the World. They are especially prevalent in Europe because so much shipping traffic is generated by the ports of Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Hamburg, and London. This is one of the first models scratch-built by @AP. He has a bit of history with the maritime world and has gone to great lengths to provide the “every day” details of a ship as well as ensuring they are as authentic as possible. If you look carefully, you will see an enormous amount of detail packed into such a small model, and for those of you interested in models without crew, there are only four crewmen on deck. It is worth noting that Albatross is flying the Imperial German merchant flag of 1889 from her stern. Albatross could be identified as any number of coastal vessels, but she is, in fact, a composite of features taken from photos of several different ships. These small coastal freighters are found everywhere, and work the English Channel, North Sea, and Baltic Sea much like today’s local delivery trucks. The next three pictures are close-ups of the Sophia Class steam paddle tug. As mentioned previously these tugs were based on the British tug Carleton Hall, and every detail has been faithfully reproduced. Sophia portrays an era when steam paddle tugs were the workhorses of the World’s harbors. Their near universal employment could be attributed to their low operating costs and simple paddle propulsion. “AP” and I are very proud of these beautiful little models. The warships in the upper left are US Navy destroyers of the Clemson Class (more on them later). Here you have another view of the tug, and especially the “lighter” carrying a variety of ship’s stores. Lighters have been in use, in one form or another, for hundreds of years. A lighter is, basically, a small, towed barge, shaped similar to a ship, used to carry a wide range of “cargo” from place to place, or to a ship anchored offshore. This may be necessary because not all ports have docks of suitable size to accommodate large ships, or because certain ports may be too shallow for large ships. Again, our lighters are based on period photos from 1880 to the 1930’s. I should mention in this view, the destroyers on the left are “ortho” models, while Sophia and her lighter are two, separate, diagonal models – just two of many to come. It has long been a problem in “seagoing SC4” that there were few diagonal ships to choose from. We intend to provide many of our ships in “diagonal” to make your harbors more realistic. At this point, you might be wondering what the Imperial Naval High Command was thinking. They finally produced a pair of “state-of-the-art” armored cruisers that were – in all probability – superior to any British armored cruiser. And – though the Hochseeflotte armored cruisers were seriously outnumbered – in 1909, the High Command chose to assign their best and most modern cruisers to the Far East. What could have brought about a decision that defies all logic? The answer lies in a convoluted series of random events, eccentric personalities, deception, and faulty espionage -- all set in motion as far back as 1903…... NEXT TIME…… THE ITALIAN, THE FIRST LORD, DREADNOUGHT, & THE UNEXPECTED. MANY, MANY. MANY. THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his generosity, patience, and talent – in providing so many beautiful and highly detailed warships. AGAIN, MY VERY SPECIAL THANKS to @AP for volunteering his very considerable talents, valuable time, and vivid imagination in creating so many props that have added so much variety and originality to the dockyards. The Cuxhaven Series would be impossible without his “Herculean” efforts. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit! You may wish to visit these CJ’s as well…… SERIES I: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: WILHELMSHAVEN SERIES II: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN Appearing – Work In Publication SERIES III: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: BREMERHAVEN Appearing -- ??? And please feel free to drop in at… THE SIMTROPOLIS SHIPYARD https://community.simtropolis.com/forums/topic/761469-simtropolis-shipyard/?tab=comments#comment-1766496- 8 Comments
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Chapter 05: An Ill-Fated Lot
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN
SMS Friedrich Carl – circa 1905 – Leading a squadron of Wittelsbach Class pre-dreadnoughts on training exercises off Heligoland Island. IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN By: Dreadnought & AP Chapter 05: "AN ILL-FATED LOT...” While the Reichsmarineamt (Imperial Navy Office) played politics with the Reichstag, and their naval architects experimented with Furst Bismarck and Prinz Heinrich, the clock was ticking. The German Naval Command knew other powers would begin building their own armored cruisers – it was the only plausible defense against commerce raiding cruisers. The armored cruiser was designed to be the perfect concept to both attack an enemy’s commerce, and to destroy his commerce raiders. HMS Cressy – circa 1901. The British, of course, were terrified at the thought of half a dozen commerce raiders loose on the Empire’s sea lanes. And they did not experiment, nor did they dither around. Between 1901 and 1904 they commissioned six ships of the Cressy Class. The Cressy’s were big at 12,000 tons and 472 feet in length. They were certainly designed larger than other nation’s cruisers because they were expected to operate alone on distant colonial stations. They were powered by 30 Belleville boilers, driving two 4-cylinder triple expansion engines, coupled to twin shafts, for a top speed of 21 knots (though Cressy proved to be the slowest of her class at 20.7 knots). The class was given a main battery of two 9.2 inch guns in single turrets, one fore and one aft, and were capable of 3-4 rounds per minute out to a range of approximately 19,000 yards. The Cressy’s had a secondary battery of twelve 6 inch guns arranged in casemates amidships. However, eight of the casemates were on the main deck level and were useless in any sort of seaway. The guns were capable of 8 rounds per minute out to approximately 16,000 yards. Another dozen 3 inch guns were provided for torpedo boat defense and could fire 15 rounds per minute to a range of about 12,000 yards. Two submerged torpedo tubes were also installed. The class was given an armor belt of 6 inches, closed at the ends by 5 inch transverse bulkheads, forming an armored citadel (box). The main battery gun turrets and barbettes were 6 inches with 5 inches on the casemates. The protected armor deck was 1 inch with 3 inch sloping sides and the conning tower was an amazing 12 inches. Sinking of HMS Cressy. The Cressy Class could be considered an ill-fated lot, with only three of the six ships surviving the Great War. And the other three sisterships made the history books when they were torpedoed and sunk within an hour and thirty-five minutes. The morning of 22 September, 1914, found Cressy, Aboukir, and Hogue on patrol off the “Broad Fourteens” along the Dutch coast. They were without destroyer escorts because those had sought shelter from heavy seas during the night. The cruisers were steaming at 10 knots, north by east in line abreast, about 2,000 yards apart. They were positioned to intercept any German warships that might attempt to interfere with British troop convoys to France. That same morning, the German submarine U-9 surfaced, after laying on the bottom overnight to avoid the storm, and sighted the cruisers. The submarine was, indeed, on it’s way to seek the troop convoys, but the cruisers were too tempting a target. Kapitanleutnant Otto Weddigen fired his first torpedo at Aboukir, striking her starboard side around 06:20. The British Captain thought he had struck a mine and signaled the other two cruisers to close and lend assistance. That signal, and the fact that Royal Navy captains were only just learning the danger a submarine presented, doomed all three ships. Aboukir went down in 30 minutes. Hogue was hit by two torpedoes at 06:55 and went down in 10 minutes. And Cressy, still trying to rescue survivors, was hit by two torpedoes, took on a list, and capsized in 35 minutes. Otto Weddigen, having emptied his torpedo tubes, was on his way home by 07:55. Sixty-two officers and 1,397 enlisted men were lost that morning, and the Royal Navy learned a brutal lesson in a tragically awful way. U-9 – “manning the side” – receives the salute as she makes her way through the fleet in Wilhelmshaven. The warships behind her are the pre-dreadnought battleships of the II Battle Squadron. Kapitanleutnant Weddingen was lauded as a hero by his countrymen and received the “Iron Cross, Second and First Class” for his action. No surprise – the British thought the submarine...”A damned un-English weapon”...and their propaganda painted Weddingen as a “pirate”. Weddinmgen would go on to receive the “Pour le Merite” – before meeting his death in March 1915, when his submarine was rammed and sunk by HMS Dreadnought in the Pentland Firth. (Willy Stower) HMS Drake – circa 1909. This picture clearly shows the secondary guns “stacked” along the hull in two rows. The bottom row was at main deck level and, when at high speed or in rough weather, they were completely awash and of no use. A serious fault built into the Cressy’s and continued in several subsequent classes. The Admiralty doubled-down between 1902-1903 with a new design and four more armored cruisers of the Drake Class. The Drake’s were considerably larger, and improved versions of the Cressy Class, laid down specifically in response to the new French armored cruiser Jeanne d’Arc. These ships were 14,150 tons displacement and 533 feet long, with an unusually deep draft of 26 feet, which produced a very stable gun platform and an excellent sea boat. The ships retained the same engines and twin screw arrangement, but the longer length was filled by a rising total of boilers – 43 Bellevilles, this time. The added boiler muscle meant the Drake’s could easily reach their designed speed of 23 knots on trials. The new cruisers kept the same armament and gun layout as in the Cressy Class, and basically the same armor scheme, with the exception of changing the protected armor deck to 1.25 inches thick with 2.5 inches of sloping armor. If you examine the German and British ships and their commissioning dates, you see a pattern developing early on in the 20th Century. In the time it took the Imperial Navy to design, build, commission, and evaluate Furst Bismarck and Prinz Heinrich – the Royal Navy commissioned ten roughly equal armored cruisers. This disparity was to dog the Imperial Navy for its’ entire life span. And though many analysts and historians are quick to cite the disparity, it is too readily dismissed as a simple inability of German shipyards to build “more” and “fast”. But, I’m afraid, it is more complicated than that. Great Britain had well over two centuries of naval supremacy to her credit. Britain was an island -- she had the means to build many ships, the wealth of an entire empire to pay for them, senior officers to direct them, seagoing officers to command them, and politicians who understood the very life of the Empire depended upon them. Britain had long experience in producing the warships necessary to project seapower around the globe and control any sea zone she wished. In fact, the Royal Navy was so critical and successful an instrument of power politics, that Britain possessed no army to speak of. (Raising an army of millions to fight in the WW I trenches would kill an entire generation of young men and ultimately cripple the British Empire beyond recovery.) Germany, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Prussia/Germany had an illustrious military heritage dating back to Frederick The Great. And, more recently, her army had beaten the dominant European land power in the Franco-Prussian War. At the turn of the 20th Century, the Imperial German Army was the largest, best equipped, best trained, and best led army on the Continent. (The Tsarist armies might have been larger, but they were abominably equipped, shockingly poorly led, and logistics was an unknown science.) The German Great General Staff was the finest collection of military minds and experience on the planet. And, what’s more, the Reichstag understood the Army – and were in agreement (mostly) that it was THE instrument of defense, power, and decision. They agreed that if the French raised a division, Germany must raise two – and they voted the funds. But -- one naval-oriented member of the Reichstag, when asked about naval estimates, said flatly…...”How am I to convince a Silesian farmer that he needs to pay for a battleship?” So Germany had no naval heritage to rely upon, nor did she have centuries of experience in building warships and employing them as a political tool. Their lack of reliance on warships explained why their shipyards were smaller and fewer in number. Since Germany had so little experience in naval matters, her senior officers were less able to formulate plans for a future they could not foresee. This, in turn, made it difficult to influence ship designs that would effectively meet the needs of the navy. And -- since the existing shipyards did not have a lot of experience building warships, it took them almost twice as long. And all of this brings into focus the three problems that, in effect, prohibited Imperial Germany from building “more” and “fast”. (1) It took longer to identify an optimal ship design, (2) Building “one-off” ships – or infrequent ships – prevented shipyards from developing techniques, streamlined procedures, and staff experienced in building complicated ships. And (3) The Reichstag’s reluctance to fully fund a navy they simply did not understand, effectively prevented any solution to the first two problems. But the Naval Laws of 1898, 1900, 1906, 1908, and 1912, at least provided partial relief to the funding. It was not enough money, and would never be enough. But at least the work of building a fleet could proceed. PRINZ ADALBERT CLASS ARMORED CRUISERS SMS Prinz Adalbert seen at high speed during sea trials in January, 1904. The Reichstag passed the Naval Law of 1898, outlining a force of 12 armored cruisers. The original intent of the Naval Office was to design them for use on colonial stations, while a further cruiser force was to be built for scouting duties with the Hochseeflotte. But the Reichstag balked at such a large expenditure during the original negotiations, and the Naval Office had to settle for a cruiser design that could perform both duties. After all, Tirpitz’ paramount objective was to get the law passed to guarantee regular additions to the strength of the fleet – a procedure quite new to the Reichstag budgeting process. Let’s face it – 12 cruisers were better than none! The new law called for one armored cruiser per year, and 1898 produced the Prinz Heinrich design – an altered version of the Furst Bismarck. While remaining within the Naval Law’s budget allowance, they basically cut back on gun power and rearranged the armor into a reduced, more comprehensive scheme, to make a trade-off for increased speed and lower cost. The Second Naval Law, of 1900, increased the planned armored cruisers to 14 and produced a design for two armored cruisers of the Prinz Adalbert Class. Both ships were laid down in 1900 -- Prinz Adalbert at Kaiserwerft, Kiel, and Friedrich Carl at Blohm & Voss, Hamburg. The class was, as usual, based on the previous Prinz Heinrich, but in the important points, they were a significant improvement. The basic hull size and shape remained the same, but armament and armoring schemes were altered. SMS Prinz Adalbert – plan profile. By this stage of cruiser development, the naval architects and seagoing officers were beginning to question the viability of mounting only two heavy guns on a warship. The naval officers were always worried about battle damage -- an accepted risk. But – could only two slow-firing 9.4 inch guns lay down enough fire to suppress an enemy quickly? (One of Adm. Jackie Fisher’s favorite axioms was – “Hit fast...hit hard...and keep hitting!”) So the decision was made to go back to four guns in twin turrets, with calibers reduced to 8.3 inch – a faster firing gun of roughly comparable hitting power. This might seem like an erroneous conclusion, but in 1 minute of firing, the 9.4 inch gun could deliver three shells with a total weight of 930 pounds. In the same minute, the 8.3 inch gun could deliver five shells with a total weight of 1,190 pounds. Plus – the effect of more shells falling faster would be quite disconcerting on the receiving end. This was the “Volume Of Fire” theory – more shells, faster – “smother” the target. In opposition was the “Big Gun” school of thought. Big gun advocates pointed out that a bigger shell would strike harder, penetrate deeper, and cause more damage. In the end, both theories were based on the number of hits that could be scored – a somewhat more dubious reality. The science of long range gunnery was just beginning to be recognized as critical to success, but was not yet widely accepted as the key to victory. Fire control systems and actual gunnery practice were among Fisher’s Royal Navy reforms – but “old school” admirals tended to ignore such things. Fortunately for the Imperial Navy, the Kaiser was excessively proud of his ship’s gunnery, and held frequent competitions with annual awards for excellence. This would pay off handsomely in later years. Ultimately, the decision to switch to a lighter, faster-firing gun was a political decision. The Reichstag would not agree to additional funds to put the larger 9.4 inch gun on the cruisers. Consequently, the switch to 8.3 inch main battery guns would become a permanent fixture on all armored cruisers – and it would similarly influence the main battery caliber on dreadnought battleships. In view of the Imperial Navy’s skilled shooting – the bigger gun would have been the better investment. Here are the two ships of the Prinz Adalbert Class, riding at their moorings along the breakwater in the West Loch. Prinz Adalbert is moored outboard, and Friederich Carl is tied up at the mooring points. Cruisers assigned to the Hochseeflotte spent quite a lot of time at moorings – when not making port calls around Europe, or making training cruises – or escorting the Kaiser’s yacht. The steam tug (by WolfZe) is towing two barges loaded with fresh foodstuffs, headed for one of the other cruisers. With the exception of WolfZe’s tug, all the other beautiful ship models are courtesy of @AP. The armoring scheme for the Adalbert’s was improved, somewhat, by adjusting the placement of the various plates and adding an oblique armored bulkhead to connect the upper belt armor to the turret barbettes. The protected armor deck thickness was increased and a new propulsion plant used, giving a marginal increase in speed, with a slight increase in operating radius. The coal bunkers were adjusted to carry more coal, but the object was to spread them over a greater area of the hull to increase the layers of protection. Tests proved that a full coal bunker absorbed a great deal of destructive energy from incoming shells. This practice had been somewhat overlooked in the Prinz Heinrich, but became a standard feature on all Imperial warships beginning with the Prinz Adalbert Class. The crewmen on Prinz Adalbert have used the ship’s crane to swing a boat out in preparation for going ashore. The ship already has a boat boom rigged and a cutter has just returned with some green bags in the stern sheets – possibly mail. A dispatch boat has also just pulled alongside. We chose the British 75 foot motor launch from 1915 as a dispatch boat – it looked like the perfect “errand boy” for a naval base. It is a small model, but “AP” has worked a lot of detail into it. The boat boom, cutter, and dispatch boat are props, on a 1x1 lot plopped adjacent to the cruiser model The Prinz Adalbert Class displaced 8,943 tons with a length of 415 feet and a beam of 64 feet. Fourteen coal-fired water-tube boilers powered three triple-expansion engines driving three screws at a speed of 20 knots (though both ships slightly exceeded their design speeds on sea trials). The radius of operation was 5,850 miles at 12 knots. The assigned crew was 35 officers and 551 enlisted men. Over on the left of the picture is a Jupiter Class collier tied up to a “barrel buoy” (both by “AP”). The steam tug has a “double tow” of lighters, and it should be mentioned that the length of the tow hawser to the first lighter should, in reality, be about three times as long. But for visual effect in the game, I have shortened the tow. The class was armed with four 8.3 inch SK-L/40 (QF) guns mounted in twin turrets, one fore and one aft. The secondary armament of ten 5.9 inch guns followed the now standard “slab-sided” arrangement amidships in turrets and turreted casemates. They also carried the obligatory dozen 3.5 inch guns for torpedo boat defense. Four 17.7 inch submerged torpedo tubes were mounted -- one in the bow, one in the stern, and one on each broadside. The mooring points in the picture are patterned after those used in Pearl Harbor and were provided by @Mattb325. I re-lotted them and added lights, rope coils, and sailors – everything you would expect to see with a mooring party. The armor scheme seems repetitive, from class to class, but there were always subtle adjustments and additions that continued to improve the system. The ship’s were plated with the new Krupp’s Cemented Armor with 3.9 inches on the belt, barbettes, and new oblique bulkheads. The bow and stern of the ships were left unarmored. (This practice had now become quite common as a weight-saving device, but future repercussions would prove it to have been an ill-conceived concept.) The protective armored deck was 1.6 inches with sloping sides of 3.1 inches. The main battery turrets were faced with 5.9 inch armor as was the forward conning tower. Some bulkheads were rearranged from the previous design and one more watertight compartment added to improve internal protection. When finished, Prinz Adalbert and Friedrich Carl, had each cost the Imperial Government 16.4 million Goldmarks. (Goldmarks were the official currency of the Empire and were valued at about five to the English Pound.) After commissioning, both ships served in a wide variety of functions – everything from the “Tangier Crisis” of 1905, to escorting the Kaiser on his Mediterranean vacations, and the normal training exercises and pre-war fleet maneuvers with the Hochseeflotte. This is a detail shot – and if you look closely, you will find a wealth of detail and even some crewmen training on their guns. The lighter in the top corner is a little gem. There is a lot of detail “AP” worked into the barge, itself – in addition to a superb job of modeling the food crates. The breakwaters are by “Uki”. Shortly after war broke out in 1914, Friedrich Carl was assigned to the Cruiser Division Baltic, where she served as flagship. August, September, and October were spent patrolling off the German coast and making offensive sweeps around Libau and into the Gulf of Finland. On 16 November, 1914, Friedrich Carl joined a force being assembled to bombard Libau, which was suspected of being used as a base for British submarines operating in the Baltic Sea. Around 01:46 on the 17th, she was 38 miles west of Memel when she entered a Russian-laid minefield and struck one to starboard. Friedrich Carl immediately altered course to return to Memel, but struck a second mine at 01:57. She began taking on water, but remained afloat long enough for the light cruiser Augsburg to remove the crew. Abandoned to sink, she did so around 07:15. Only eight crewmen were lost. One more detail shot. Prinz Adalbert was assigned as flagship of the IV Scouting Group of the Hochseeflotte upon the outbreak of hostilities in 1914. In November, when Friedrich Carl was sunk, she was detached and assigned to the Cruiser Division Baltic Sea to take her place. On 1 July, 1915, a minelaying operation north of Bogskar was returning when it was ambushed by a Russian Squadron of three armored cruisers and two light cruisers. When the situation report came in, Prinz Adalbert and Prinz Heinrich immediately sortied in support. While en route, the cruisers steamed across the path of the British submarine E-9, which slammed a torpedo into Prinz Adalbert just below the conning tower, causing severe damage and killing ten. The armored cruiser laid in a course for the Kaiserwerft, Danzig – but taking in 2,000 tons of water made her too deep for the shallow entrance. Instead, she had to limp all the way to Kiel to find a channel deep enough to admit her to port, arriving on July 4th. Repairs were completed in September, 1915. On October 19th, Prinz Adalbert was ordered to take up a patrol line between Faro and Dagerot. Some 20 miles west of Libau, en route to her patrol area, she was steaming in company with two destroyers when she encountered the British submarine E-8. The submarine loosed a spread of torpedoes at 1,300 yards and within seconds, a massive explosion ripped the cruiser apart. She went down instantly, with only three survivors from her 675 man crew. In all probability, one or more torpedoes struck near a powder magazine and detonated the contents. She lies in 240 feet of water, broken in half like a match stick. It might be said that the Prinz Adalbert’s, too, were an ill-fated class. But what could be more truly said, was that the Baltic Sea might have been a “small show” compared to the North Sea – but it was infinitely more deadly. THE COMPETITION The evolution of the Imperial German cruiser force must always be viewed within the context of the era and the prevailing environment. Nothing exists in a vacuum and warships are no exception. In 1905, the big news in the world, and Europe in particular, was the humiliating defeat suffered by the Russians in the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-1905. The modern Japanese Imperial Navy had easily defeated the less numerous and less modern Russian Pacific Fleet. Then, at the Battle Of Tsushima, they defeated the even less modern Russian Baltic Fleet sent all the way around Africa. At the same time, the Japanese Imperial Army, at great cost of human life, captured Port Arthur and drove the Russian army out of Manchuria. The defeat came as a great shock to Europeans, in general, and the Americans in particular, because it signaled a major shift in the balance of power in Asia. It also altered the power balance in Europe. Russia was devastated and would take many years to regain her strength. This automatically (though only temporarily) removed the potential military/political threat on the borders of the Austro-Hungarian and German Empires. The politicians and generals were emboldened because they no longer feared the “Russian Juggernaut” in the East. Edward VII, King of England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales, and of the British Dominions beyond the Seas, and Emperor of India. Reigned 1901 – 1910. In his coronation robes. Political tensions would rise and crises would multiply in the coming years, but the King-Emperor, Edward VII, sat on the throne of Great Britain. Both Kaiser Wilhelm II and Czar Nicholas II were his nephews, and Edward spent a great deal of time smoothing the political waves in Europe. They did not call him “Edward The Peacemaker” for nothing. He achieved more useful political maneuvering than all his ministers put together. During his brief ten-year reign, he turned the French from enemies to allies, sympathized with Nicholas II, and did his best to still Wilhelm’s saber-rattling. But Edward was no fool. The King actively backed Admiral Jackie Fisher’s reforms of the Royal Navy, the much-needed reorganization and distribution of the fleet, and encouraged Admiral Fisher in his design and building of the revolutionary HMS Dreadnought. Edward knew diplomacy was all well and good, but it would fail without a strong, modern fleet to back it up. And Jackie Fisher was the man to build that fleet. Fisher always kept his “eye on the ball” and followed naval developments in France, Austro-Hungary, Japan, and even in America. But most of all, he eyed the German fleet with particular interest. The growing numbers of German armored cruisers were a distinct threat to British trade routes and supply lines. And the only way to protect the sea lanes was to hunt down the German cruisers with an overwhelming number of British cruisers. Between 1903 and 1906, Great Britain commissioned ten ships of the Monmouth Class, six ships of the Devonshire Class, and two ships of the Duke Of Edinburgh Class. Though some of these proved to be of slightly dubious quality, both Edward and Fisher knew...”Quantity had a quality all its’ own”. HMS Bedford – Monmouth Class – 1903. Note the bridge, which has been reduced to an armored conning tower with “flying bridge wings” and a wheelhouse. The Monmouth’s (Often called the “County Class”) might actually be called “second class” cruisers. Jackie Fisher’s comment was biting, but succinct – “Sir William White designed the County Class but forgot the guns”. But in all fairness, potential enemy armored cruisers were still rare in 1902, when they were designed. The ships were really only expected to encounter light cruisers and armed merchant cruisers on the sea lanes, and were specifically designed to deal with small, fast cruisers like the French Guichen, Chateaurenault, and Dupleix. Having said that, they were relatively fast ships for their time and could possibly have outrun anything with bigger guns. The Monmouth Class ships were 9,800 tons, 463 feet long, and capable of 23 knots. The main battery consisted of fourteen 6 inch MK VII guns – four of which were mounted in two twin turrets, one fore and one aft. The remaining ten guns were mounted five on either broadside in casemates amidships. Unfortunately, six of the casemates were positioned at the main deck level and were useless in heavy seas. Ten quick-firing 3 inch guns were fitted for torpedo boat defense and two 18 inch submerged torpedo tubes were included. The waterline belt armor was 4 inches amidships, tapering to 2 inches forward (presumably, the stern was unarmored). The gun turrets, barbettes, and casemates were armored with 4 inches. The protective armored deck was 0.75 inches, thickening to 2 inches on the slopes, and the conning tower received 10 inches. Monmouth was lost at the Battle Of Coronel, in 1914, while the other ships did good service and some were instrumental in tracking down and sinking German light cruisers used for commerce raiding early in the war. All were withdrawn from service and scrapped in 1920–21. Devonshire Class - HMS Devonshire – 1905. Again we see the large wooden bridge atop the armored conning tower. In battle the bridge staff was supposed to drop down a ladder into the armored conning tower. In actual practice, many captains chose to command from the bridge to get a better tactical view of the battle. The six ships of the Devonshire Class were all commissioned in 1905, and were “improved” versions of the Monmouth’s intended for commerce protection. Mindful of the previous negative remarks about armament, the 6 inch battery was reduced and 7.5 inch guns were added. The ships displaced 10,850 tons, were 473 feet in length, and capable of 22 knots. The breech-loading 7.5 inch MK I guns were placed in four single turrets, with one aft, and the other three in a triangular arrangement forward. One turret was placed on the forecastle deck, with the other two placed slightly aft and one deck lower (weather deck) on either beam. The MK I’s fired a 200 pound shell out to approximately 14,000 yards. The secondary battery of six 6 inch guns was placed in casemates amidships on either beam. Four of the casemates were at main deck level and were unworkable at any kind of speed or heavy weather. The ships were also equipped with eighteen quick-firing, 3-pounder Hotchkiss guns for torpedo boat defense, but these were later removed when they proved unable to stop modern torpedo craft. Two 18” submerged torpedo tubes rounded out the armament. The Devonshires were “up-armored” with a waterline belt of 6 inches amidships, closed off at both ends by 5-inch armored transverse bulkheads. The turrets were armored with 5 inches, while the barbettes received 6 inches. The protective armored deck was unchanged from the previous class, while the conning tower was increased to 12 inches. HMS Argyll ran aground on Bell Rock near Dundee in October, 1915, and though her entire crew was rescued, the ship was a total loss. HMS Hampshire struck a mine off the mainland of Orkney and was lost on June 5, 1916. Of the 749 souls aboard, only 12 were rescued. Among those lost were the Secretary Of State For War, Lord Kitchner, and his staff. They were en route for Russia to discuss the deteriorating situation on the Eastern Front. The remainder of the class was scrapped 1921-1922. Duke Of Edinburgh Class - HMS Duke Of Edinburgh – 1906. After the Devonshire Class, the British Admiralty decided their cruisers could be put to better use by forming a “fast wing” of the battle fleet. A fast wing would give the battle line a tactical edge over their opponents. The cruiser’s extra speed would allow them to race ahead of the enemy line and cross their “T”, allowing the cruisers to bring all their broadside guns to bear on the leading enemy warship. Or, the fast wing could be used to apply pressure to the van (front) of the enemy line, forcing them to alter course and place them in a less advantageous position. If nothing else, they could be used as scouts to locate the enemy fleet and help bring them to battle. This new tactical employment would, of course, mean the new cruisers would have to have heavier armor and bigger guns. And the higher speed would require more room for engines and boilers, which meant longer hulls and higher costs. Some naval analysts (including the legendary Oscar Parks) have referred to the Duke Of Edinburgh Class as the cruiser version of the contemporary King Edward VII Class pre-dreadnought battleships. They displaced 12,590 tons, were 505 feet long, and could make 23 knots. The cruiser’s main battery was composed of six 9.2 inch MK X guns in single turrets. The Mark X was a much more powerful gun than those mounted in the Devonshires. The guns were arranged with one turret fore and aft, and four wing turrets amidships, abaft the first and fourth funnels. The guns could fire a 380 pound shell at three rounds per minute out to 15,500 yards. The secondary battery of ten 6 inch guns were mounted on the main deck in single embrasures rather than casemates, five on either broadside amidships. And, as usual, the guns on the main deck level were too close to the waterline and were useless in anything but calm seas. They also carried twenty Vickers 3-pounder quick-firing guns for torpedo boat defense, but these were found to be useless, and were removed. Three submerged 18 inch torpedo tubes were fitted with eighteen reloads. The Duke Of Edinburgh and Black Prince were well armored with a 6 inch belt of Krupp Cemented Armor amidships that reached up 14.5 feet to the upper deck and extended nearly 5 feet below the waterline. The belt was only 4 inches out to the bow and 3 inches to the stern, while 6 inch transverse bulkheads closed off the fore and aft ends of the midships central citadel. The gun turrets had 7.5 inches on the front with 5.5 inches on the sides and a 2 inch roof. The barbettes and ammunition hoists were 6 inches, while the embrasure mounted 6 inch guns were separated by 2 inch armor screens. The protective armor deck was, however, only 0.75 of an inch with 1.5 inches over the steering gear and 2 inches over the engines. The conning tower was plated to 10 inches. For those of you wondering why Krupp armor from Germany could be found on a British warship – it was strictly “business”. The decades just before and after the turn of the century were the “Golden Years” for the armaments industries. And representatives (salesmen) of the armaments firms practically went door-to-door across Europe and the entire World drumming up business. The British shipyards of Armstrong, Vickers, and John Brown built ships for Spain, Italy, Greece, Turkey, and Japan. German shipyards built warships for Holland, Norway, Sweden, Greece, Turkey, and even Russia. France sold warships to Russia. Even the Americans got in on the act by building battleships for South American customers and selling two old ones to Greece. (German Stukas bombed and sank them in WW II.) Armstrong sold some of the largest cannon in the world to anyone who had the money to buy them. And Krupp’s massive works at Essen were kept roaring day and night by selling anything to anyone. You could even find some Krupp cannon and Cemented Armor in Teddy Roosevelt’s “Great White Fleet”. Of course the Royal Navy only wanted the best and strongest armor for their warships, so Krupp was paid handsomely to supply it. And – Admiral Hollman’s fear that armored cruisers would eventually find their way into the battle fleet came true with the British Duke Of Edinburgh Class. The sailing frigate had transformed into an ironclad frigate, an unprotected cruiser, a protected cruiser, an armored cruiser for commerce protection, and now an armored cruiser “fast wing” of the battle fleet. From Dupuy de Lome, 1890, to The Duke Of Edinburgh’s planning and design (about 1902), it had taken just twelve years for the ships to find their way into close proximity with the battle fleet. HMS Duke Of Edinburgh was assigned to the 1st Cruiser Squadron of the Grand Fleet at Jutland, in May of 1916, and briefly engaged the German II Scouting Group as well as the German light cruiser Wiesbaden. She suffered no damage or casualties and finished out the war on the North American West Indies Station performing convoy duties. She was scrapped in 1920. HMS Black Prince was serving in the 1st Cruiser Squadron of the Mediterranean Fleet when war broke out in 1914. She participated in the pursuit of the Goeben (German battlecruiser) and was then sent into the Red Sea to search for German merchant shipping. Black Prince took two prizes – the German ocean liners Istria and Sudmark. It is a bit ironic that she actually performed commerce raiding duty – the original mission of an armored cruiser. Ordered to England, she joined the 1st Cruiser Squadron of the Grand Fleet in December, 1914. In May 1916, at Jutland, Black Prince was again deployed with the 1st Cruiser Squadron scouting in advance of the main body of the Grand Fleet. A swirling fire-fight erupted when contact was made with the cruisers of the Hochseeflotte’s 2nd Scouting Group at about 17:42. A lively skirmish ensued with much gunfire and the occasional torpedo track in the water. Fifteen or twenty minutes later, Black Prince had lost sight of the enemy and her own squadron mates, and nothing more was heard from her until she radioed an erroneous submarine sighting report at 20:45. Darkness settled in over the battle area and nothing more was known until about 23:35. The 1st Battle Squadron of the Hochseeflotte was on “high alert” steering southwest for Horn’s Reef when, suddenly, a ship appeared out of the darkness to the east. The enemy ship looked to be an armored cruiser resembling a Duke Of Edinburgh Class. The British vessel scored hits with two 6 inch shells on the battleship Rheinland, then put her helm hard over and tried to run. But it was too close and too late. SMS Thuringen quickly fixed the fleeing cruiser in her searchlight beams and opened fire almost instantly. At least five more ships – including the battleships Nassau, Friedrich der Grosse, and Ostfriesland opened a quick and deadly fusillade. All of the German ships were within 750 to 1,500 yards of the target – point-blank range – zero trajectory shooting for 12 inch guns. Black Prince was hit by a minimum of twelve large caliber shells and an unknown number of 5.9 inch rounds. Within seconds, she burst into a mass of flame from stem to stern and the fires deep inside the hull could be seen through the jagged shell holes. The Germans ceased fire and maintained their course, but they saw the flames disappear about 23:50. Black Prince had gone down with all hands – a loss of 857 officers and men. SMS Thuringen and 1st Battle Squadron open fire on HMS Black Prince at point-blank range. (Art by Willy Stower.) In 1902, when Black Prince was designed to form a “fast wing” of the battle fleet, the officers who formulated the strategy had never seen an armored cruiser under the guns of a battleship. They had no real concept of what they were trying to doing. The British naval officer of the era had grown up in the late Victorian Age and had been spoon-fed a diet of “Nelsonian Superiority”. The Royal Navy was the navy of Nelson, and Francis Drake, and annihilating your enemy in battle. To attack – always attack – and no matter the odds, you fought on until victory was achieved. Nelson had gotten away with it in the Age Of Sail. And Black Prince might have gotten away back then, with a fair wind in her sails. But in the age of steel giants and massive 12 inch guns – this sort of daring-do was no longer possible. And what happened to Black Prince at Jutland, would have happened to the ships of a “fast wing” in 1902 – if it was composed of armored cruisers. An armored cruiser was no more than a “grown-up” frigate, and the Royal Navy had forgotten the “first law” of frigates – “Frigates were NEVER intended to stand in the line of battle.” Neither were armored cruisers. But the idea of a “fast wing” was never tried in battle – and it would resurface in a few years with yet another kind of ship that held out the promise of speed and power. NEXT TIME…… EVOLUTION OF THE ARMORED CRUISER THAT'S NOT ALL...... We have another prop-pack for you ...HISTORIC NAVIES 1900 - Volume 05: Victoria Louise Class Cruisers. I DO HOPE you are enjoying these chapters – rather than being bored out of your mind. I enjoy writing them, but then, I have always been fascinated with the history. Do let me know – I can always write a lot less and post more pictures. MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his beautiful warships. We haven’t seen many of his models lately, but there are some great ones coming in future chapters. AGAIN, VERY SPECIAL THANKS to my teammate @AP for volunteering his considerable talents and valuable time. The Cuxhaven Series would have been utterly impossible without his generous assisstance. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit! You may wish to visit these CJ’s as well…… SERIES I: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: WILHELMSHAVEN SERIES II: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN Appearing – Work In Publication SERIES III: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: BREMERHAVEN Appearing -- ??? And please feel free to drop in at… THE SIMTROPOLIS SHIPYARD https://community.simtropolis.com/forums/topic/761469-simtropolis-shipyard/?tab=comments#comment-1766496- 4 Comments
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Chapter 03 -- The Advent Of The Armored Cruiser
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN
The French armored cruiser Dupuy de Lome in the early stages of construction at the Brest Arsenal Shipyard – circa 1888. She was not a large vessel by modern standards, but she would make a big impact on world-wide naval policy. IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN By: Dreadnought & AP Chapter 03: THE ADVENT OF THE ARMORED CRUISER French cruiser Dupuy de Lome seen after fitting out – circa 1891. BIRTH OF A CONCEPT At the same time the German construction plans were mired in indecision, the French were trying to formulate a naval strategy as well. They kept a wary eye on German construction, but their real problem was Great Britain. After more than two centuries of unsatisfactory naval conflict with Britain, the French Treasury bureaucrats, several admirals, and the naval constructors, had come to the conclusion that they could never out-build the British – battleship-for-battleship. Fortunately, the young firebrands in the fleet had long been promoting a revival of the “Jeune Ecole” (the Young School). This “school” of strategic thought shunned the battleship and espoused the cruiser as the “arm of decision”. The idea was to build a greater number of less expensive, fast, heavily armed cruisers to cover the globe and decimate English trade – a commerce war. The heavily armed French cruisers could destroy any enemy cruisers sent against them, forcing the British to detach battleships from the Home Fleet to deal with the problem. With British battleships scattered all over the globe, the French battle line might hope to achieve parity in home waters – and a crushing victory. The plan did have an elegant, simple subtlety – and certainly appealed to the dashing, young captains of the fleet (who otherwise might never rise to the command of a battleship). But “protected cruisers” were no longer the best warship for the job. The developments in quick-firing guns, new propellant powders, and armor-piercing explosive shells made some sort of side armor an absolute necessity. The development of the lighter, tougher, face-hardened Krupp steel (and similar armor compounds made by other nations) made it possible by the early 1890’s to reintroduce belt armor as an option. This made the concept of the “armored cruiser” a possibility. And the French naval architects seized it. (If you’re #2 – you’re always looking for an edge!) THE DUPUY de LOME INNOVATION The cruiser Dupuy de Lome (named for her designer – Henri Dupuy de Lome) was laid down in 1888. She was intended to be an “experimental” ship, specifically built to incorporate the advancing technologies of modern guns, more efficient engines, and especially the new face-hardened (and lighter) armor. Much trial and error ensued as different types of engines, boilers, guns, and hull forms were tested, accepted, or rejected. Commissioned for “experimental service” in 1890, she would remain largely experimental until stricken in 1910 as obsolete. But she led the way, and proved the problem of balancing speed, armor, and armament could be overcome. Dupuy de Lome had a full load displacement of 6,800 tons, a length of 400 feet, and her propulsion plant could outrun any contemporary battleship at a top speed of 19.5 knots. She was very fine-lined, with armor of variable thickness distributed throughout the hull. Her armament consisted of two 7.6 inch and six 6.4 inch guns in turrets on the main deck, along with four 17.7 inch torpedo tubes in swivel mounts, two on either broadside. The entire ship’s side was protected by 3.9 inches of steel, from the weather deck to the bottom edge of the “protective armor deck” (4.5 feet below the waterline). The curved “protective deck” was 1.2 inches thick and did not rise above the waterline. Between the “protective deck” and the boilers, engines, and magazines below, was a “splinter deck” 0.31 inches thick. The space between the two decks could be filled with coal to increase protection from shell fire and shrapnel splinters. The hull below the armored deck was divided into thirteen watertight compartments, with three more above the protective deck. The conning tower was 4.9 inches thick and the turrets had 4 inches. With a cruising radius of 4,000 miles at 12.5 knots, she was ideally suited to the role of a commerce raider – a point the British were quick to recognize. Having shattered the “glass ceiling” of balancing speed, armor, and guns, Dupuy de Lome was, in fact, the first modern armored cruiser. She vaulted onto the World’s naval stage while other powers were still building “protected cruisers”. And – despite a few performance issues – she did impress many foreign navies. Dupuy de Lome – circa 1895. France’s European rivals instantly saw the possible havoc that could be wreaked on the global shipping lanes by such a ship. They just as quickly came to the conclusion that deploying battleships to protect the trade routes would not be cost-effective – and might even fail due to their slow speed. The only possible answer to a commerce-raiding armored cruiser, was to build your own armored cruiser – preferably -- bigger, faster, and meaner. Designers the world over worked long nights producing designs as fast as possible. Japan, Russia, Italy, and of course, Great Britain – who had the most to fear from commerce raiders. Even the United States built 15 armored cruisers between 1891 and 1906, of which, the Tennessee Class are regarded by naval analysts as the best of their type ever built. USS Tennessee, armored cruiser, 1906 – 14,500 tons – 504 feet length – 22 knots – 4x10 inch – 16x6 inch – 4x21 inch torpedo tubes (submerged). USS Tennessee – profile plan. ARMORED CRUISERS OF THE IMPERIAL GERMAN NAVY SMS Furst Bismarck – 1900. The first armored cruiser commissioned into the Kaiserliche Marine. Meanwhile, back in Berlin, the various departments of the Imperial Navy Office were watching the developments in France with keen interest. The construction of Dupuy de Lome was hardly “top secret” and all the necessary information could be gathered quite easily by an embassy naval attache. The disturbing part was the implications of all that information. A squadron of fast, heavily armed, French commerce raiders could not only cause havoc on German trade routes, but they could also bombard colonial ports, and possibly attack wireless transmission stations. And – the not so obvious bad news -- the Kaiserliche Marine did not have a cruiser capable of confronting such a threat. The newest “protected cruisers” in the Hochseeflotte were simply no match for Dupuy de Lome or the cruisers that would follow her. Admiral Hollman, State Secretary of the Naval Office, realized the other naval powers were no more prepared to deal with the French cruiser than Germany. Very soon, a building frenzy of bigger, more powerful cruisers would begin in Britain, Russia, and Italy. And Germany, hampered by a financially reluctant Reichstag, would also have to begin building these big cruisers – not only to protect their colonies and trade routes, but to keep pace with rival navies. These large cruisers, if not employed in commerce raiding, would find their way into the battle fleet soon enough. So the armored cruiser came to the Kaiserliche Marine – unexpected, unwanted, and – quite possibly – unfunded. SMS FURST BISMARCK Armored cruiser Furst Bismarck laying at anchor – circa 1900. Note that she has tied off to a mooring buoy, or “barrel buoy” described in the preceding chapter. Armored cruisers from this period were sometimes bigger, and often more expensive, than the existing pre-dreadnought battleships. This was largely due to increases in gun caliber, the additional side armor, and the larger propulsion plants needed for high speeds. This was very nearly the case with the Kaiserliche Marine’s first armored cruiser – SMS Furst Bismarck. Despite considerable political opposition in the Reichstag, the ship was approved in 1896, and construction began at the Kaiserliche Werft in Kiel. SMS Furst Bismarck – profile plan. Furst Bismarck was, as something of an experiment, a single ship class. It was not uncommon when designing a radical departure from previous ships, for the Kaiserliche Marine to build one, evaluate it, and then decide where to go from there. But the main reason was because the Reichstag kept a strangle-hold on the purse strings, and they hardly ever authorized more than one or two warships at a time. SMS Furst Bismarck is being nudged into her berth at mooring points in the West Loch. A Nordwind Class tug is approaching from the left, and a Passat Class from the bottom. Furst Bismarck was a big and powerful cruiser for her day – in excess of 10,000 tons – and the Kaiserliche Marine would have none bigger until the Scharnhorst Class. The breakwaters are by “Uki” and the mooring points are by “Mattb325”. The two tugs are scratch-built by @AP. And this magnificently crafted, textured, and detailed armored cruiser is the scratch-built carftsmanship of @AP. She was named after the famed “Iron Chancellor”, Prince Otto von Bismarck. The design was a scaled-up version of the previous Victoria Louise Class protected cruisers, with nearly twice the displacement and a significantly more powerful armament. If you examine previous pictures in this chapter, you will readily see the profiles of Hansa and Furst Bismarck are remarkably similar. When faced with new challenges, or “rush jobs”, German naval architects invariably went back to their nearest successful design and altered it to suit the situation. Believe it or not, this method was quite successful and produced a more homogeneous fleet with highly reliable warships. The new cruiser would be quite capable of operations with the Hochseeflotte, but was primarily intended for trade protection and support of the Asian and Pacific colonies. The increase in guns and armor would allow Furst Bismarck to deal with rival armored cruisers, while making her a lethal threat to the smaller “protected” and “unprotected” cruisers she might encounter. She was, for all intents and purposes, meant to be a “cruiser killer”. In this view of Furst Bismarck, you can see the fine lines of her new hull form. Along the side of the hull, between the rows of port holes, you can see the slight “tumblehome” of her hull (captured expertly by AP). The tumblehome narrows the wider lower hull into a smaller upper deck area – a feature commonly found in warships of the late 1800’s. This provides a wider hull at the waterline and increases her stability and value as a gun platform. Furst Bismarck was 412 feet long at the waterline, with a beam of 67 feet, and a displacement of 10,690 tons. She was steel-framed, both transverse and longitudinal, with a hull composed of a single layer of wooden planks, covered by Muntz Metal sheathing extending three feet above the waterline. Interestingly, the lower portions of the ship, from stem to stern, were covered with bronze plating. The hull had 13 watertight compartments with a double bottom running 59% of the ship’s length. The armored cruiser was driven by three vertical-stroke, four-cylinder, triple-expansion engines, powered by four Thornycroft boilers (built under license by Germaniawerft) and 8 cylindrical boilers, with a total of 32 fire boxes. Needless to say, she shipped a large compliment of stokers. She was given the new triple screw arrangement for maximum power output and achieved, with maximum effort, 18.7 knots on trials. Electrical needs were met by five generators providing a total of 325 kilowatts at 110 volts. Another view, from the bow. Again, you can see the “tumblehome” along the hull as well as the efficient layout of the “weather decks” – making use of every square inch of the reduced upper deck area. The beautiful little Sophia Class paddle tug, at left, is pulling a “double tow” of lighters loaded with various crates and boxes of “ship’s stores”. Once again, the tow lines between the tug and the lighters would be much longer in the “real world” – but I chose to shorten the towing hawsers for in-game visual appearance. The big cruiser’s main battery consisted of four 9.4 inch, SK-L/40 guns, mounted in twin turrets, one fore and one aft, “book-ending” the central superstructure. The “C/98” turrets were hydraulically operated and of an unusual, but interesting, elongated-oval shape with a very low silhouette. Produced by Krupp, the guns used a brass-cased powder charge to fire a 310 pound shell out to approximately 18,500 yards (10.5 miles). The rate of fire was three rounds per minute with magazine space for 78 rounds per gun. I think I need to explain the “SK-L/40” designation at this point – you will be seeing many such designations as we go along. The “L/40” refers to the caliber and length of the gun tube. The “SK” is an abbreviation for “schnelladekanone”, which loosely translated means “fast loading gun” – or what the naval scholars call a “quick-firing” (QF) gun. In this broadside view of Furst Bismarck you get a good view of the uniquely-shaped main battery turrets fore and aft, as well as the secondary casemated turrets arranged in the forward and aft superstructure, as well as in the typical “pyramid arrangement” amidships. The two large “tower masts” are referred to as “military masts”, and though different in every navy, they were a common feature at the turn of the century. If you look closely, you will even see “AP’s” creative placement of the crew – they are “closed-up” at their “sailing stations”. This shot also gives you a close-up of the paddle tug Sophia and her tow. The secondary battery was twelve 5.9 inch SK-L/40 (QF) guns in turreted casemates. They fired armor-piercing shell at a rate of 5 rounds per minute, out to a range of 15,000 yards, with magazine storage for 120 shells per gun. They were pedestal mounted and manually trained and elevated. Torpedo boat defense was provided by ten 3.5 inch SK-L/30 (QF) guns mounted in both casemates and pedestal mounts with shields – all manually operated. These smaller guns could throw out a blizzard of shells, at 15 rounds per minute, to a range of 7,500 yards. The “hitting power” was rounded out with six 17.7 inch torpedo tubes, with a total of 16 torpedoes. One tube was a swivel mount on the stern, two were submerged on either broadside, and the sixth was submerged in the bow. This is a close-up of Furst Bismarck’s bow. Note the detail built into something as simple as the anchor chains and capstans and even the small boats secured on either side of the bow. The degree of work on the main battery turrets is amazing. The heavy, segmented, gun barrels are depicted accurately, rather than simply glossed-over as a “gun”. The amount of detail on the roof of the main battery turret is meticulous. The slightly weathered look of the hull and upper works is fantastic – even the tone and texture of a weathered Teak deck that has been “holy-stoned” for countless hours. One of the most significant advances over the protected cruiser was Furst Bismarck’s armor scheme. And -- the inclusion of an “armored belt” was the radical step forward from previous classes. “Krupp Steel” was used throughout which was, as mentioned earlier – pound for pound -- tougher and more shot resistant than other armor of the period. Furst Bismarck’s belt was an amazing 7.9 inches thick amidships, tapering to 3.9 inches at bow and stern. Most foreign cruisers started with a 4 inch belt that tapered to 0.75 inches at the ends, and usually only covered the center portion of the ship – leaving most of the forecastle and stern portions unprotected. Behind the midships portion of the new cruiser’s belt, the designers placed additional 3.9 inch plates to cover critical areas – turret barbettes, magazines, boilers, and engines. The main protected armor deck (at the waterline) was 1.2 inches thick, with 2 inch sloping sides. The forward conning tower had 8 inch sides and a 1.6 inch roof, while the aft conning tower had 4 inch sides with a 1.6 inch roof. The main battery turrets were 8 inches on the sides with 3.9 inch roofs, while the 5.9 inch gun turrets had 3.9 inch sides and 2.8 inch gun shields. All casemated guns were protected with 3.9 inch shields. A stern close-up. Since Furst Bismarck was destined to be the flagship of the East Asiatic Squadron, she had been designed with “flag-officer” quarters beneath the fantail deck. Note the admiral’s private stern-walk wrapped around the hull. Since some of you may be wondering about the word “Furst” in the cruiser’s name – loosely translated, it means “Prince”. As in -- Otto, Prince of Bismarck, Count of Bismarck-Schonhausen, Duke of Lauenburg -- (In German -- Otto Furst von Bismarck, Graf von Bismarck-Schonhausen, Herzog zu Lauenburg.) In a nutshell, Furst Bismarck had, roughly, three times the armor protection of her contemporaries! While this might sound like a good thing, we have to go back to a basic and recurring problem in ship design; the need to balance guns, armor, and speed. We could get into a very long and complicated discussion about balancing a warship design – but it all comes down to the weight of the materials in each of the three categories. It’s all about the weight. If you “invest” too heavily in one category – you must reduce the weight in the other two categories. The excessive amount of armor in Furst Bismarck may very well account for the fact that she could only make 18.7 knots at maximum effort. In 1900 that might be acceptable – but by 1910 – it would be a liability in combat. It is almost certain her disappointing speed trials resulted in less armor and more speed in the follow-on classes of armored cruisers. By 1909, SMS Blucher would be capable of 25.4 knots. Since harbors are crowded and bustling with activity, they are difficult places to maneuver big warships. And all large ships find that shallow water effects their rudder control. Consequently, you see Furst Bismarck (a diagonal model) being moved toward the Munitions Replenishment Basin by a Passat Class tug, escorted by two Nordwind Class to assist with difficult turns. On the left, you see groups of lighters and sailing luggers tied-up at mooring “dolphins”. Tugs, lighters, luggers, mooring dolphins, and the excellent cruiser -- are courtesy of “AP”. Her hull was launched in September, 1897, and her “fitting-out” work began. (See previous chapters for “fitting-out” details.) In early March 1900, while the shipyard was completing the job, the ironclad SMS Sachsen accidentally collided with the new cruiser, slightly damaging her stern. The accident delayed the start of sea trials until 19 March. Initial testing revealed Furst Bismarck to be an excellent sea boat in heavy weather and very quick to answer the helm. But she did have an excessive roll in beam seas and her massive propulsion plant set up a heavy vibration at high speed. There was a need for alterations to the ship, but the Chinese Boxer Uprising had broken out in late 1899, and the East Asiatic Squadron needed reinforcements. The alterations would have to wait. Here you see a close-up of Furst Bismarck’s bow. Notice the placement of the officers and crew. They are at their “sailing stations”. You have an excellent view of the “tumblehome” built into the hull design and masterfully portrayed by “AP’s model work. Another area in which he excels, are the gun turrets. Note the detail on the roof – the round sighting hood in the center, the two square exhaust fans, and the individual riveted armored roof plates. The canvas jackets where the gun tubes enter the turret form a seal to protect the turret interior against smoke and gases when firing. Each of the 9.4-inch barrels has three progressively smaller segments – just as they were manufactured at the Krupp gun works. And they are not just “little sticks” poking out of the turret – they’ve got girth and “heft” – just as in real life. The lower picture is a bit blurry – but you can see the impression of power in those gun barrels. OPERATIONAL HISTORY At the end of June, 1900, Furst Bismarck slipped her moorings and steamed out of Kiel on what would become an eight year tour of duty in the Far East. She stopped to coal in Gibralter, and again at Port Said, made the transit of the Suez Canal, and coaled before leaving, at Port Tewfik. She anchored for a day or two off Perim Island, at the southern end of the Red Sea, to allow the crew to recuperate from the effects of heat exhaustion, then put in at Colombo (Ceylon) before pressing on to Singapore. Arriving in Singapore on 4 August, Furst Bismarck received orders to escort the troop ships Frankfurt and Wittekind to Tsingtao, where Vice Admiral von Bendemann transferred his flag aboard. The next few weeks were spent awaiting additional troop ships and warships from Germany, including a “Detached Division” of the four pre-dreadnought battleships of the Brandenburg Class. Eventually, the German Empire would contribute 17,000 soldiers and 24 warships to the “Eight Nation Alliance”. The force ultimately fielded 70,000 men and 250 warships to fight the “Boxers”. Among that ground force was a sizable Royal Navy contingent commanded by Captain John Rushworth Jellicoe. The young captain was seriously wounded during the fighting and was appointed a “Companion of the Order of the Bath” by Her Majesty Queen Victoria – and awarded the “Order of the Red Eagle with Crossed Swords” by His Imperial Majesty Kaiser Wilhelm II. More about Captain Jellicoe later. Furst Bismarck participated in troop landings, bombardments, the blockade of the Yangtze, and dozens of other tasks and duties. By July, 1901, the fighting had nearly ceased and the East Asiatic Squadron returned to its normal peacetime footing. In September, the Chinese signed the “Boxer Protocol”, ending all fighting. But the experience convinced the Reichsmarineamt (Imperial Navy Office) of the importance of logistics in projecting naval power over great distances, and a maritime transport department was created in 1902. Between the forward bridge and the aft control position, lies the midships section of the cruiser. Here you can see how the area has a “sunken” deck, with elevated “cat-walks” leading to gun positions, accessing the ship’s boats, and connecting the bridge forward with the aft control position. You also have an excellent view of the 5.9-inch secondary battery, deployed in two ocher colored turrets and two casemated turrets below and amidships. This was the beginning of that “slab-sided” look that came to be standard in all German armored cruisers. The largest part of Furst Bismarck’s tour in the Far East was an endless string of port calls in Tokyo, Yokohama, and Kobe, with regular dry-docking in Nagasaki to repair the leaky stern that had been damaged in the fitting-out basin. More port calls to the Russian concession in Port Arthur, with side trips to Sydney and Melbourne, Australia. And the occasional formal diplomatic call to Hong Kong and Singapore to celebrate King Edward VII’s birthday, or by Royal Navy invitation to attend social functions. There was a formal diplomatic call at Tokyo where Vice Admiral Geissler (then commanding) was received by Emperor Meiji. A tour of East Asian ports even included a rare visit to the Dutch East Indies in 1902. When necessary, the big cruiser would lay at anchor off a port or river mouth (Yangtze) to protect German nationals and their property, if there was unrest ashore. At the same time, the warship conducted regular drills and participated in group training exercises. Furst Bismarck won Kaiser Wilhelm II’s Schiesspreis (Shooting Trophy) four years in a row. In 1903 a special squadron visit was paid to the Russian Pacific Fleet based in Vladivostok, in honor of the Tsar’s birthday. This is a close-up of Furst Bismarck’s stern detail. The thick military mast with the large “fighting top” is a feature common to several navies at the turn of the last century. They quickly fell out of favor as naval technology advanced and the excessive weight of metal could be put to better uses. Note the red and green cones on the signal halyards. These are used to indicate to the next ship astern the position of the rudder on this ship. The green cone raised indicates a turn to starboard – red raised, to port. In their current position, they indicate rudder amidships. You will see these cones in many photographs of the period. You can clearly see the fine detail of the searchlight atop the aft control position. In the right of the picture, you can even see two seamen “larking-about” on the admiral’s stern walk. Risky business, that. Early 1904 saw tensions running high between Russia and Japan over their disputed interests in the Korean Peninsula. Orders from the Admiralstab (Admiralty Staff) directed the East Asiatic Squadron to remain strictly neutral in the event of hostilities. Small cruisers were sent to Port Arthur and Chemulpo to evacuate German and Austro-Hungarian nationals, and war finally broke out in February. After the engagement in the Yellow Sea, on August 10th, the damaged Russian battleship Tsesarevich and cruiser Novik managed to reach Tsingtao, where they were interned for the remainder of the Russo-Japanese War. The rest of 1904 was spent by Furst Bismarck and the squadron enforcing the internment of the Russian ships, while destroying Russian naval mines endangering German shipping. Early 1905 saw riots in China, forcing most of the squadron to remain in Chinese ports until March. All ships were recalled to Tsingtao as the Russian Second Pacific Squadron approached the area, but normal routine was resumed after the Russians were annihilated at the Battle Of Tsushima. In August, a floating dry dock had been completed in Tsingtao, and Furst Bismarck underwent repairs in October. In December the squadron embarked on a tour of the southern East Asia Station, but the cruise had to be cut short due to unrest in Shanghai, necessitating Furst Bismarck's presence. The ship sent a landing party ashore, along with men from the gunboats Jaguar, Tiger, and Vaterland. They patrolled the city center and protected the German consulate, but took no active role in the unrest. This is another fine view of the detailed craftsmanship of the stern main battery turret and an excellent view of the two aft 5.9-inch guns in their turrets. There is a nice view of the stern detail outboard of the hull and the admiral’s stern walk. And, again, the “tumblehome” of the hull is clearly visible. The skylights in the fantail are located above the spacious quarters of the flag officer commanding the squadron. The next few years passed much as the others had – with the exception that these were largely peaceful. Furst Bismarck, as the largest ship on station, kept busy with port calls, diplomatic trips, “state” calls on Heads Of State, onboard tours for foreign dignitaries, the occasional spell in the floating dry dock at Tsingtao, and simply “showing the flag”. The presence offshore of a large cruiser always reminded a foreign ruler that peace was more desirable than a dozen of these steel beasts blockading his coastline and shelling his ports. At last, in early 1909 Furst Bismarck received orders to return to Germany for repairs. The ship had been overseas for just over eight years, and the amount and scale of work necessary could not be accomplished in Tsingtao’s floating dock, nor was it financially practical to do it in a dry dock anywhere in Asia. On April 8th, with an Army band playing ashore, and her crew manning the side, the big cruiser slipped her mooring buoy and steamed south into the Yellow Sea. On the 29th, she paused long enough to rendezvous in Colombo with the “new flagship” of the East Asiatic Squadron arriving from Germany – the new armored cruiser SMS Scharnhorst. Furst Bismarck arrived in Kiel on 13 June, and decommissioned on 26 June. This is another view of the midships area showing how the ship’s boats are stowed. You will also notice the many portholes in the ship’s hull. Since Furst Bismarck was designed to operate on foreign stations, they would most likely be in the tropics, so ventilation of the interior spaces would be of critical importance. Portholes were permitted in thinner-skinned cruisers, but only in certain positions aboard heavily armored capital ships – usually the thinly-armored bow and stern sections. Portholes were an instant indicator of thin armor plate on a warship. In 1910, Furst Bismarck was taken into Kiel’s Kaiserliche Werft Shipyard for an extensive modernization. Part of the work included conversion into a torpedo training ship. The work lasted four years, and was completed after the outbreak of WW I. Recommissioned on 28 November, 1914, she was used as a training ship due to her low combat value. Decommissioned once again in December of 1918, she served as a floating office until stricken from the Naval Register in 1919. She was sold for scrap and broken up in 1919-1920. At the time of her conception, there was a general lack of enthusiasm at higher command levels for the construction of Furst Bismarck. Admiral Hollman, the State Secretary of the Naval Office at the time, more or less accepted the dominance of the Royal Navy at sea. And he was well aware of Britain’s many shipyards, so he saw no need to compete with them. But he also understood Germany’s colonial possessions and trade routes had to be defended against marauding enemy cruisers. So -- despite significant political opposition in the Reichstag, the funds were appropriated and the Imperial Navy’s first armored cruiser was built. Fast enough for her day, Furst Bismarck had traded her speed potential for heavy guns and an impressive armor suite. But her true contribution was in providing design and building experience – and another step up the ladder of evolution. NEXT TIME…… INNOVATION ON A BUDGET MY MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his generously given time and talent providing so many beautiful warships for this series. MY SPECIAL THANKS to my partner and “maritime advisor” -- @AP -- for his considerable talents, valuable time, imagination, and hard work in providing so many beautiful and highly detailed models. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit…... You may wish to visit these CJ’s as well…… SERIES I: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: WILHELMSHAVEN SERIES II: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN Appearing – Work In Publication SERIES III: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: BREMERHAVEN Appearing -- ??? And please feel free to drop in at… THE SIMTROPOLIS SHIPYARD https://community.simtropolis.com/forums/topic/761469-simtropolis-shipyard/?tab=comments#comment-1766496- 4 Comments
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Chapter 02 -- Protected Cruisers: A Brief Experiment
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN
SMS Hansa – Victoria Louise Class – a lithograph circa 1900. IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN By: Dreadnought & AP Chapter 02: PROTECTED CRUISERS: A BRIEF EXPERIMENT Beginning in the 1860’s, the navies of the world transitioned from wooden-hulled warships to ironclads, then again to steel hulls. All the basic rules of naval construction were suddenly in constant flux. And not only ship’s hulls were changing. The cannon arming the ships began to change more in two decades than they had in the preceding hundred years. New metallurgy, new chemical explosives, explosive shells, and better rifling techniques made them far more powerful than they had ever been. Consequently, for the next several decades, it proved difficult to design a ship with sufficient armor, while maintaining the speed and range required of a "cruiser”. To further complicate matters, around the 1880’s, a fairly effective, hardened-tip, form of armor-piercing ammunition made an appearance. For naval designers, this made protecting the sides of a ship with thick armor plates problematic. This was really not a viable solution. There were limits on the thickness of plate armor that could be processed in a rolling mill. And even if armor dominated the design of the ship, it was likely the next generation of guns and shells would still be able to pierce it. An additional problem was weight and speed. The more armor you hung on a ship – the heavier it got, and the slower it moved – making the design completely unacceptable. So if you wanted a semi-cheap, fast, cruiser the only practical alternative was to leave it “unprotected”. But, as you might think, the idea of building an expensive modern cruiser, loading it with guns and men, and then watching two 6-inch shells send it to the bottom -- worried politicians and admirals alike. Fortunately, in 1884, the British armaments firm of Armstrong-Whitworth & Co. had two bright lads in the design department of their Elswick shipyard. They decided to give the ship’s sides only minimal armor while actually armoring a deck just below the waterline. Since this deck could only be struck by a shell in an oblique manner, it could be less thick and heavy than belt armor (side armor). The ship could be designed with the engines, boilers, and magazines beneath the protective armored deck. This would allow the ship to suffer enormous damage to the upper hull and superstructure while the watertight area below the armored deck kept it afloat and stable. This spark of genius produced the “protected cruiser”. Protective Deck Cross-section French La Gloire – Commissioned 1859. You see her as she looked in 1869. With the appearance of seagoing ironclads – French La Gloire, 1859, and Britain’s iron-hulled HMS Warrior, 1861 -- the wooden steam navies gave way to superior ironclad steamers. Over the next two decades, the composition of fleets changed as well. All of the confusing classifications of warships -- 1st rate, 2nd rate, 3rd rate, etc, etc – were done away with, for the most part. What remained were the big, lumbering ironclads of the battle line – and their “scouts” – the cruisers. (There were, in fact, still classifications of ironclads, but it boiled down to whether or not you put the 4th rates up front to get shot to pieces, or held them back as a “forlorn hope”.) The demand for cruisers rose dramatically. If it had been economically impractical to deploy a ship-of-the-line to the wilds of the African coast – it was even less practical to send a slow, coal-fired ironclad. Cruisers were far more affordable than battleships, which appealed to less financially endowed nations, and to parsimonious politicians everywhere. The discovery of the “protective armor deck” endorsed the cheaper course and showed the way forward. HMS Warrior – 1861. Picture taken after restoration, perhaps 2009. PROTECTED CRUISERS At the same time Gen. Caprivi was ordering his “foreign station” ships, the “fleet” was making the change from ironclad steam frigates to more modern steel construction. Mostly in response to French construction, the Germans laid down the first of the eight-ship Siegfried Class in 1888. Only 4,058 tons and 240 feet long, these glorified “battleships” were actually intended merely for coastal defense and could not truly be called battleships. During the recent Franco-Prussian War, the Prussian Navy had been too small, and mostly too antiquated, to make a good showing. But Caprivi was determined to change that. His goal was to create a “Hochseeflotte” (High Sea Fleet) that could not only defend the German coast, but project naval power into the sea zones of potential European enemies. And the Siegfried’s were just a beginning. SMS Siegfried – Laid down in 1888 -- Lead ship of a class of eight coastal defense battleships. The Siegfried Class coastal defense ships were unsuitable for deep water operations with the new light cruisers already under construction. They were too small and slow, with a severely restricted operating radius. Caprivi knew the Reichstag could not be persuaded to allocate funds for modern battleships. And light cruisers, no matter how modern, could only do so much with 4.1-inch guns. So something was needed to lend heavier support to the thin-skinned light cruisers. The first protected cruisers to be built in Germany were the Irene and Prinzess Wilhelm (1886), followed by the Kaiserin Augusta (1890). SMS IRENE and PRINZESS WILHELM Protected Cruiser SMS Irene – First protected cruiser built for the Imperial navy – 1888. Shown late in her career. SMS Irene was the first protected cruiser to enter service with the Imperial navy and was laid down in 1886 at the AG Vulcan Shipyard in Stettin. She was commissioned in 1888. Prinzess Wilhelm, her sister ship, was laid down the same year in the Germaniawerft Shipyard in Kiel, but was not commissioned until 1889. At 4,271 tons and 340 feet in length, the class was equipped with double expansion engines driving twin propellers for a speed of 18 knots. The two cruisers were fairly heavily armed with four 5.9-inch guns, eight 4.1-inch guns, six 1.5-inch revolving cannon, and three 13.8-inch torpedo tubes. Armor protection consisted of the revolutionary “protective armored deck” 2 inches thick with sloping sides increasing to 3 inches, with a 2-inch thick conning tower. SMS Prinzess Wilhelm – Sister ship to Irene – 1889. Seen soon after commissioning. Note the laundry drying up forward. In summer of 1888, Irene joined a squadron sent to Britain as part of Wilhelm II’s coronation plans. The winter months were spent escorting the Kaiser’s yacht on a Mediterranean cruise, with state visits to Turkey and Italy, and port calls in Athens and Venice. She again escorted the Kaiser’s yacht, Hohenzollern, to Britain for the 1890 Cowes Regatta. In November, 1894, Irene was dispatched to Casablanca to investigate the murder of a German national – then proceeded to join the East Asian Squadron, followed in 1895 by Prinzess Wilhelm. Both ships spent the remainder of their active careers in the Far East. When replaced by more modern cruisers, they returned to Germany, were modernized, and then “laid up”. Stricken from the Naval List in 1914, they remained laid-up until sold for scrap in 1921. It is interesting to note that each ship fetched a sale price of 909,000 Marks. SMS KAISERIN AUGUSTA Kaiserin Augusta – 1892. The third protected cruiser to join the Imperial Navy. The Kaiserin Augusta Class consisted of a single ship laid down in 1890 at the Germaniawerft Shipyard in Kiel. Due to budgetary restrictions, this ship was designed primarily as a fleet scout, with alterations increasing her radius of action and providing a crew large enough for landing parties so that she might serve on colonial stations. She was lengthened over the previous class in order to carry twice as many boilers and larger engines so that she would have more than enough speed to scout ahead of the fleet. Kaiserin Augusta was 400 feet in length with a much increased displacement of 6,056 tons. Her hull had both transverse and longitudinal steel frames with ten watertight compartments. The outer hull consisted of a single layer of wood planking sheathed in “Muntz Metal”. Developed by George Muntz, of Birmingham, England, this metal sheathing was a brass alloy consisting of copper, zinc, and a trace of iron. This mixture duplicated the anti-fouling protection of copper at only two thirds the cost. Perhaps the most famous ship to use this sheathing was the clipper Cutty Sark. Armor protection was provided on the “protective armored deck” principle with two inches of Krupp steel on top and 2.8 inches on the sloping sides. The conning tower was 2 inches thick. Krupp steel had just come into use and was superior to any other process at the time. Krupp plates could be rolled thinner, and therefor, lighter than others while still being just as shot-resistant. Kaiserin Augusta was powered by three 3-cylinder triple expansion steam engines driving three shafts with power supplied by eight fire-tube boilers trunked into three funnels. A top speed of 21.5 knots was reached on trials, largely due to the triple screw arrangement. In need of great speed, the naval architects decided it could only be achieved with the untried triple arrangement. Only a handful of French and American ships had experimented with triple screws, but they made Kaiserin Augusta the fastest warship in the World (at the time), and the first Imperial Navy ship with that arrangement. Armament was quite similar to the preceding class, with four 5.9-inch guns and eight 4.1-inch guns – all mounted in sponsoned hull casemates on the main deck level. There were also five 13.8-inch torpedo tubes -- four in deck swivel mounts (two on either broadside) -- with the fifth tube submerged in the bow. One point of interest can be discerned by examining the picture above. In the early decades of the 20th Century, warships tended to be “minimalist” in their external design features. Some navies were inclined toward more “deck clutter” than others, but the Imperial Navy kept “top hamper” and superstructure to an “essentials only” minimum. The Russo-Japanese War of 1905 would later prove that unarmored portions of a hull, deck houses, and sprawling superstructure, not only provided a bigger target, but could be shredded by high explosive shells and turned into a blazing mass. The Imperial Bureau of Design did not yet have “combat” proof – but they understood a low profile equaled a smaller target. Kaiserin Augusta had a minimal bridge, two masts, three funnels, and some ship’s boats on deck – a very low target silhouette with little that could be shredded or set afire. Kaiserin Augusta was commissioned for sea trials in November, 1892, but they were interrupted by the need to send “modern” cruisers to New York City to represent Germany at a celebration of Columbus's first voyage. A similar, earlier, celebration in Genoa, Italy, had prompted negative remarks about the Prinzess Wilhelm. As hoped, Kaiserin Augusta made a significant impression – and all the more impressive for having achieved an average speed of 21.5 knots on her Atlantic crossing. After completion of sea trials, the ship was dispatched to Morocco to assist in a show of force during the “Casablanca Crisis” – a text-book example of gunboat diplomacy. In March and April of 1896, Kaiserin Augusta escorted the Emperor’s yacht on the annual Mediterranean cruise. While still in the Mediterranean, in November, 1897, Kaiserin Augusta received orders for the Far East, where she was to join the East Asiatic Squadron. Two months after her arrival in Tsingtao, she made “port calls” at British Hong Kong and Nagasaki, Japan. Following the 1898 outbreak of the Spanish-American War, the East Asiatic Squadron was ordered to concentrate all available ships in Manila Bay to protect German interests, and if possible, to seize a suitable chunk of the Spanish Philippines as another naval station. Kaiserin Augusta was present for this show of force, but since the Americans decided to occupy the islands, she merely carried the former Governor General of the Philippines, Basilio Augustin, to Hong Kong, where he could book passage for Spain. Shortly thereafter, Kaiserin Augusta put in at the small port of Taku, China, at the request of the German ambassador, and landed an infantry detachment which then marched overland to Peking and joined the guard force of the German legation. Late in 1899, the Chinese "Boxer Rebellion” broke out and the foreign diplomatic legations in Tientsin soon found themselves surrounded and under siege. This resulted in all the European squadrons in Asia sending warships to Taku, the closest port to Tientsin with a railroad connection. The Chinese forts guarding the river mouth were quickly reduced and a “beachhead” established for future operations. Kaiserin Augusta ferried men of III Seebatallion from Tsingtao to the assembly point at Taku, in addition to disembarking a 60-man landing party. These troops were to join Admiral Edward Seymour’s multi-national relief force bound for Tientsin. Unfortunately, the ship’s Executive Officer, K.K. Oltmann, was lost in the fighting. If this all sounds like a boring litany of odd jobs and errands – you are forgiven for thinking as much. But Kaiserin Augusta had a service career typical of most “foreign station” cruisers of the period. Whether lying at anchor in some far flung corner of the empire, or turning up at one of the many “political hot spots” of a contentious era, or simply ferrying diplomats to and fro – there was nothing too dangerous or too mundane to receive the attention of a cruiser. Kaiserin Augusta received orders to return to Germany in March, 1902, and was decommissioned in June. Already obsolete, she was modernized and placed in reserve, where she remained until 1914. With the coming of World War I, she was reactivated for use as a gunnery training ship, and was briefly assigned to the Baltic Coastal Defense Division. Decommissioned in December 1918, and stricken from the Naval Register in 1919, she was sold and broken up in 1920. VICTORIA LOUISE CLASS PROTECTED CRUISERS SMS Victoria Louise at anchor – circa 1904. Note the “military mast” forward, and the pole mast aft. The Victoria Louise Class protected cruisers were the last of their kind built for the Imperial Navy. Their design introduced the combination “clipper / ram bow” and the “slab-sided” look that would typify later German cruisers. The class consisted of five vessels, laid down in 1895 and 1896, and commissioned in 1898 and 1899. In the early 1890s, the German naval command was still divided over what type of cruisers to build. The Reichsmarineamt (Imperial Navy Office) preferred a combination of large cruisers of around 6,000 tons similar to Kaiserin Augusta – with significantly smaller vessels of about 1,500 tons for support. The Oberkommando der Marine (Naval High Command) urged a uniform force of 3,000 ton cruisers. With no coherent plan in place, the Navy Office failed to secure funding for cruisers in 1892, 1893, and 1894. The Reichstag finally authorized construction of three 6,000 ton ships for the 1895–1896 budget year, with two more vessels authorized for 1896–1897. SMS Victoria Louise – Plan Profile. The resulting Victoria Louise Class protected cruisers were scaled-down versions of the contemporary Kaiser Friederich III Class pre-dreadnought battleships, with a much heavier armament than the Kaiserin Augusta. They carried the same “military” foremast as the battleships with a pole mast aft, and a combination of turrets and casemates for the guns. This design set a precedent for later cruisers, with large, stepped, slab-like sides and a combination "clipper” bow with ram. It should be noted the ships also had a considerably higher freeboard with a raised forecastle deck to keep the bows “dry” in heavy weather. SMS Hertha – Victoria Louise Class: commissioned 1898 – 5,660 tons – 19 knots – 2x8.3-inch guns – 8x5.9-inch guns – protective armored deck 4 inches. Hertha is painted in yellow ocher and white – the standard paint scheme for ships serving on foreign duty stations. She is seen here, putting to sea, bound for Tsingtao and the Imperial German East Asiatic Squadron. In the background, the armored cruisers SMS Prinz Adalbert (outboard) and Freiderich Carl (inboard) are tied up at mooring points. Prinz Adalbert has her boat boom deployed with a harbor motor launch hooked on and a ship’s cutter just arriving. The mooring points are by @mattb325, modified, with sailors and rope coil props by “AP”. Breakwaters are by “Uki”. The three cruisers, motor launch, and cutter are all the diligent and wonderfully detailed craftsmanship of @AP. The Victoria Louise Class protected cruisers were the first “modern” cruisers to enter service with the Kaiserliche Marine. The naval architects dropped the long, flat, tub-like hull and adopted the substantial design elements of other European navies. At the bow and stern are two large, 8.3-inch gun turrets, with a forward and aft superstructure behind them and the midships section accommodating three funnels and the ship’s boats. Her secondary battery of eight 5.9-inch guns are mounted four on each beam – two in yellow ocher casemated turrets on the main deck, with two more in casemates in the hull one deck below. The hull form of the Victoria Louise Class has done away with the bluff bows and rounded stern of the old cruisers and taken on a much more streamlined shape. The underwater lines have been tested in an early model tank to produce the swiftest possible hull form, while the three funnels accommodate the exhaust from twelve boilers. Though the multiple funnels give the appearance of great speed, her triple expansion engines could provide no more than 19 knots. Since the class was laid down in two different years, there were slight differences between the first three ships and the last two, but they were close to 362 feet in length and displaced approximately 6,500 tons. They were armed with two 8.3-inch main battery guns in single turrets, one fore and one aft. Eight 5.9-inch guns were placed amidships on either broadside, four in turreted casemates and four in casemates. Three submerged 19-inch torpedo tubes were mounted, one in either broadside, and one in the bow. The first three cruisers had a top speed of 19.5 knots, while the last two were only capable of 18.5 knots. All were designed with the new triple screw arrangement. Victoria Louise Class – Here we see SMS Venita (outboard) and SMS Hansa (inboard), “nested” at mooring points along the breakwater. Moored astern of them are the armored cruisers SMS Prinz Adalbert and Freidrich Carl. Ahead of them you see a Passat Class tug nudging the armored cruiser SMS Furst Bismarck into her berth. In the bottom left of the picture is the bow of a collier, moored to a barrel buoy. In situations where the cruisers have been “nested” at their moorings – those are not simply “duplicate plops”. Each cruiser is an individual and original scratch-built model crafted by @AP. Krupp steel was used to armor the ships, with a protected armor deck of 1.6 inches and sloping 4-inch sides reaching down to the waterline. The forward conning tower had sides of 5.9 inches with a 1.2-inch thick roof. The aft control position was only protected against splinter damage with a half inch of steel plate. The gun turrets and casemates were all given 4-inch armor. These were small ships (only 362 feet) but if you examine them closely, you will see that @AP has worked an immense amount of detail into each model – and the class has been extensively researched for accuracy. You will note all five ships were built with an “Admiral’s Walk” at the stern. In most warship classes (cruiser and larger) a single ship would be selected to serve as a “flagship” and finished with admiral’s quarters and a walk (porch) at the stern. This is normal practice for battleships and battlecruisers that will serve together in battle squadrons. In most cases, these smaller cruisers will serve on foreign duty stations and may very well be the only “large” warship in the area. There may be numerous smaller gunboats, shallow draft craft, or auxiliary steamers – but this cruiser will be the “muscle” on station. The station might be commanded by a rear-admiral (Konteradmiral) or possibly only a “commodore” – but this cruiser would serve as his station flagship – and is equipped accordingly. Ships of the Victoria Louise Class served in a variety of assignments, including the American Station, the East Asiatic Squadron, and the Hochseeflotte. Hertha and Hansa were on station for the 1900 Chinese Boxer Uprising and took part in the reduction of the Taku Forts. Vineta was involved in the 1902–1903 Venezuelan Crisis and bombarded a number of fortresses. The storming of the Taku forts – June 16-17, 1900. A period lithograph, note the multi-national nature of the assaulting forces. All of the ships were modernized between 1905 and 1911 and then assigned as gunnery training ships. When war broke out in 1914, the cruisers were organized into the “V Scouting Group” of the Hochseeflotte, but they were quickly found unsuitable for front-line service, and the scouting group was disbanded. They finished the war in secondary roles and were scrapped in 1920-1921. Victoria Louise had been converted into a merchant ship, but was also scrapped in 1923. This is SMS Victoria Louise tied up at the Replenishment pier. On the opposite side of the basin is the armored cruiser SMS Prinz Heinrich. The “Replenishment Pier” has been re-lotted from the PEG “Pier One Seaport”. The base lot was modified to include “Navy” trucks and personnel – as well as removing some of the more modern cargo props and replacing them with items more compatible with our “turn of the century” time period. The “pier portions” had some cargo props removed as well, but remained basically the same. “WMP” seawall props were placed on the outer edges of the pier to resemble wooden caissons often seen on piers of the era. The first thing you will notice is SMS Victoria Louise is painted in the gray and white paint scheme standard to all ships serving in “home waters”. During wartime, the bright white would be replaced with a light gray more suited to blend into the weather conditions in the North Sea. If you examine the stern main battery turret, you will see a work detail performing a bit of maintenance. During peacetime, it was quite common for crews to clean and polish the gun barrels, mend the canvas/asbestos sleeves designed to seal the gun port in the turret, or remove rust and touch-up the gun tube paint. Note the weathering of the hull, the rusty anchor hawse hole, and the superbly applied soot stains on the funnels. If you are really interested in studying the level of detail on these ship models (and I hope you find them that interesting) – I would recommend downloading the shot and viewing it in a photo-viewer program. The program will allow you to “blow-up” the image and examine it in detail. The fifteen to twenty minutes it will take you to study these ships will be time well spent. “AP” is meticulous in his modeling and wonderfully “creative” in the way he employs the crewmen. IMHO – he is the most highly skilled modeler this site has seen in its’ twenty-year existence. Another view of SMS Victoria Louise (as well as Prinz Heinrich). As a first effort at a “modern” cruiser, she is an immensely interesting warship. She was a great leap forward from the old Kaiserin Augusta and set the stage for the Kaiserliche Marine to move into the 20th Century. Her designers did a fine job integrating the modern warship elements into a compact and streamlined hull – even the bulky “military mast” towering over the bridge seems to fit right into the design. She was a “progressive” ship for the Kaiserliche Marine, and in her own way, really quite handsome. Model scratch-built by @AP. This is a view of SMS Freya, the third ship of the Victoria Louise Class, commissioned in 1898. She is taking on stores and provisions at the replenishment dock in preparation for a “good will” cruise in European waters. You will note Freya is painted in the “Home Waters” livery of gray and white. She just finished loading at the munitions docks and has not finished stowing the shells and powder charges in the aft magazine. You can see the working detail gathered around the aft main battery turret. This shot is an attempt to get a close-up of the working party. Each of the 250 lb, 8.3-inch shells, has to be lowered through an access hatch to the shell room deep inside the ship. To facilitate the work, the detail has rigged a temporary derrick on the left side of the gun turret. The projectiles can be seen standing beside the turret. To the left, the brass cartridge cases with the main powder charge can be seen carefully stacked awaiting their turn. Two officers are supervising the delicate work. The Victoria Louise Class were the last protected cruisers built for the Imperial Navy – largely because the type had outlived its’ usefulness. Science and technology had continued to advance in leaps and bounds, and naval technology was no different. By the time Vineta was launched in September, 1899, she was all but obsolete – eclipsed by the more powerful cruisers of her potential enemies. But the Victoria Louise Class provided valuable experience in the design of a larger cruiser to act as support for the scouting units. Her design would also lead directly to the next generation of German cruisers – the armored cruiser. SMS Hansa – 1899 – Fourth ship of the Victoria Louise Class – the last protected cruisers built for the Kaiserliche Marine. NEXT TIME…… THE ADVENT OF THE ARMORED CRUISER AND -- before you leave us -- Here are TWO new prop packs for you to enjoy. I know I mentioned publishing every two weeks -- but "AP's" real-life schedule will be keeping him pretty busy for the next few weeks, so we decided it would be better to get these packs out as soon as possible... ENJOY -- !! Once gain --- MY MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his generously given time and talent creating so many beautiful warships for this series. MY SPECIAL THANKS to my partner -- @AP -- for volunteering his considerable talents and valuable time providing so many beautiful and highly detailed models that have added so much variety, originality, and “life” to the dockyards. Without his talent, imagination, and hard work – there would be many, many scenes that could not have been created, and there would be far less historical accuracy. His generosity has made it possible for me to “show” you what I would only have been able to “tell” you about. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. You may wish to visit these CJ’s as well…… SERIES I: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: WILHELMSHAVEN SERIES II: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN Appearing – Work In Publication SERIES III: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: BREMERHAVEN Appearing -- ??? And please feel free to drop in at… THE SIMTROPOLIS SHIPYARD https://community.simtropolis.com/forums/topic/761469-simtropolis-shipyard/?tab=comments#comment-1766496- 9 Comments
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Chapter 01 -- Trade & Cruisers
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN
Introduction: After a two-year-hiatus, the IMPERIAL DOCKYARD series has returned with a new map and harbor named “CUXHAVEN”. This is a continuation of my City Journal dealing with battleships and the era in which they flourished. The plan is to publish a new chapter every two weeks. “Cuxhaven” will, primarily, highlight the battlecruisers of the Imperial German Navy – how they came to be – their evolution – and their operational history. The Imperial battlecruisers were brilliant in their conception, handled with skill and audacity in battle – and have fascinated me for many years. In many ways, this “CJ” is an “homage” to a unique group of ships that existed for only a few years at the beginning of the last Century. It is also my ongoing mission to highlight just how versatile and flexible SC4 really is. Much of my new material is (Thank The Gods) custom modeled, and allows me to create lots and scenes with much more realism. But the original project was undertaken with far less custom material and forced me to be creative with re-lotting and re-purposing the props and lots already in the game. SC4 does have limitations – but you need to “push the envelope” to find them! I wish to reiterate my THANKS to the members of this community without whom this project would never have seen the light of day…… @Cyclone Boom& @CorinaMarie for their guidance and advice – given promptly and cheerfully. @mattb325who readily contributed models and technical advice when problems were encountered. @Tyberius06for lending his expertise and knowledge as well as rushing some of his “re-release” packages to keep me going. @Barroco Hispanogets a “super-thumbs-up” for ALL his hard work providing me with the quality ship models so critical to this effort – and for all his patience. AND LAST – BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST…...@AP. He and I have formed a true “collaboration” of effort. We are both fascinated with the period of the Kaiserliche Marine (Imperial Navy) and this project has become a “labor of love”. I could go on and on about his skill level and imagination, but he has contributed well over 400, High Def, 3-D models – from full-sized battlecruisers to individual sailors – and made it possible to construct some of the most detailed and complex vignettes ever seen in SC4. It has totally amazed me, and we hope it will do the same for you. I would like to remind the readers that "AP" will begin releasing his prop packs along with installments of “Cuxhaven”. Again – these are “prop packs” to be used by “lot makers” – be SURE to read the attached documentation – “READ ME” files and tutorials. Due to AP’s busy “real life” schedule, we will not be able to release a prop pack with every CJ entree – but we will publish them as frequently as possible. If you lot-makers have any questions about how to use them, simply drop us a message and we will be happy to help. Here is Volume I of HISTORIC NAVIES 1900 -- Lighters Lying hove-to off the shallow harbor of Cuxhaven is a Hamburg-America Line steamer most likely bound for New York. The steamship line built a departure terminal in the small port around 1900 and it became the primary point of departure for thousands of immigrants bound for the New World. The harbor was too small and too shallow for ocean liners, so this paddle-steamer was built as a “tender”. Passengers were loaded onto the tender and ferried out to the liner. Picture circa 1905. NOW -- let me say right up front -- this harbor bears no resemblance to the real-world Cuxhaven. The port city of Cuxhaven is located at the mouth of the Elbe River and has always hosted commercial shipping and a modest fishing industry. The port’s value was considerably enhanced by the completion of the Kaiser Wilhelm I Canal in 1895. The canal’s western locks are just 20 miles up-river from Cuxhaven and were vital to the strategic deployment of the Hochseeflotte (High Sea Fleet) in either the North Sea or Baltic Sea. In 1906, Cuxhaven was “officially” selected as an alternative naval base – mainly because warships had been sent there for many years to relieve congestion in the Jade Estuary and at Wilhelmshaven. About 60 miles up-river from the canal is the massive port of Hamburg. In the early part of the 20th Century, Hamburg was the second largest port in Europe. Part of Hamburg’s industrial growth included one of the finest shipyards in all of Europe – Blohm & Voss – much favored by the Kaiserliche Marine. For our purposes, “Cuxhaven” is “home port” to the scouting forces of the Hochseeflotte -- four scouting groups made up of a variety of different cruisers, destroyers, and torpedo boats. This map shot gives you a pretty good idea of where everything is and how it fits together. Along the north edge is the main anchorage, or roadsted. On the left side of the map is the original small anchorage that was in use when ships were smaller and less numerous – the West Loch. This is an overview of the Main Anchorage. The large enclosed area behind the breakwater is referred to as “the roadsted”. The piers, quays, wharves, and mooring points are all “assigned berths”, whereas the roadsted is only a “temporary” anchorage. Most of the harbor area was dredged out of a shallow bay and wetland to build a more spacious and modern harbor for the increasing numbers of new cruisers joining the fleet. Work was completed in 1893. There is sufficient berthing available to accommodate the 1st, 2nd, and 4th Scouting Groups, though the breakwater mooring points were added in 1904. This location was first used in 1881, and was not much more than a small bay with two fishing piers and a few buildings. But Wilhelm II took the throne in 1888 and work began on the new, main anchorage, as well as expanding and modernizing what came to be called the West Loch. The construction was pushed ahead with great vigor, and by 1892 everything was in place. Though a bit crowded, there is sufficient room to comfortably host the 3rd Scouting Group in the old West Loch. The 3rd Scouting Group is composed of the protected cruises and armored cruisers built between 1895 and 1909. And everything on this map is, in one way or another, directly related to the origins, composition, and operations of the Hochseefleet’s First Scouting Group – the battlecruiser squadron. SMS Seydlitz - 1913 - The Battlecruiser that was “too tough to die”. BATTLECRUISER !! The very term “battlecruiser” bespeaks speed and power, and is unique to the Great War Era. The ships were things of beauty -- low and graceful, with the unmistakable aura of menace in their lines. Sailors wanted to serve on them, Captains wanted to command them, and thousands of pages have been written about them. The Imperial German battlecruisers are both enigmatic and fascinating, while the courage of the men that manned them is indisputable. And if there is truly any romance to be found in modern naval warfare – it is to be found here. In the time before the advent of machine guns and tanks, an army used horse cavalry to scout enemy positions and raid supply lines. They could also launch themselves into the heat of battle to unsettle their opponents at a critical moment – or -- to press their advantage and put the enemy to flight. In World War I, the battlecruisers were the “cavalry” of the “Hochseeflotte”. They were fast, powerful, and when properly handled – deadly. As a type, they existed only for a few years in the early 20th Century, with the first launched in 1907 (HMS Indomitable), and the last in 1919 (HMS Hood). There were a few built prior to World War II – the French Dunkerque Class, and the German Scharnhorst Class. But the type had largely fallen out of favor by that time. So the various portions of the Cuxhaven map will be used to explain how the battlecruiser was conceived, how the “concept” evolved, and how the Imperial German warships were designed and employed. And all of this will be accomplished within the format of the ever-changing possibilities of SC4 – a twenty year old game that continues to survive & thrive! “AP” and I, hope you will be pleased. This is the “London Pool” circa 1900, where shipping waits their turn at the docks. Seaborne trade was the source of Britain’s greatness. The sharp-eyed among you might spot the dome of St. Paul’s in the right background. IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN By: Dreadnought & AP Chapter 01: TRADE & CRUISERS TRADE!! Liza Minelli and Joel Gray sang it in 1972…...”Money makes the world go around...the world go around...the world go around”. And NEVER were truer words spoken. But it all started about 500 years before that…... Around the dawn of the 15th Century, Europe discovered “national wealth” was a finite thing. There was a limit to the amount of tax money a sovereign could extract from the people. This, in turn, meant a monarch’s ability to project power across oceans and borders was limited by how many ships they could afford to build and how many troops could be paid. (Poor Princes have no influence – wealthy Princes have big armies and navies.) The time honored solution to this problem was to invade a neighbor and take their wealth. But even if you were lucky, a military campaign often cost more than you could steal. So rulers began looking for an easier way to make a buck. Henry VIII, for example, spent a great deal of time and energy trying to get English wool into the Flemish Market. But the Continental traders (Walloons-?) were a cagey lot and refused to relinquish their dominance. Other monarchs had similar problems finding sources of income, and by the end of the century (The Age Of Discovery, no less.) they were desperate for markets. But when the Spanish got a handle on what Columbus had “discovered” -- that was all she wrote! Other nations looked at the mountains of gold and silver the Spaniards brought back from the New World and decided “colonization” was the way to go. It was at this point that TRADE on a semi-global scale was born. (Though the British hung onto the nasty habit of intercepting Spanish Treasure Fleets when it suited them.) I won’t bore you with the mercantile details – they teach that in school. But Europe -- certain that they were the “civilized” part of the world -- spent the next four centuries carving the globe into “spheres of influence”, while grabbing vast tracts of land as “colonial possessions”. The “mother country” was able to cheaply extract raw resources from the colony (virtually slave labor) and ship them home. The resources were then manufactured into finished goods and sold at home and abroad at extravagant prices. Merchant’s purses began to bulge, enabling rulers to raise taxes, build a bigger navy and army, and begin throwing their political weight around. This led directly to “empire”. Thus is established a direct link from colonial possessions to wealth AND power -- two things no government would give up without a fight. So once acquired, a colony had to be defended against internal unrest (bad for business) or rival European incursions (even worse). Occasionally, troops and ships would be sent for serious problems, but the usual guardian was a single warship stationed in a nearby colonial port. A single ship-of-the-line (the early equivalent of a battleship) might be home-ported in the region, but she would be augmented by several “frigates” that did the patrolling and used landing parties to deal with small disturbances. The frigates were the workhorses that kept the peace and “showed the flag”. Frigates were wooden, three masted, full-rigged ships (square-rigged on all masts) ranging from 1,000 to 2,000 tons with a single gun deck. Armament was 28 to 32 guns, with the heaviest guns being 18 pounders. They were built with clean hull lines and carried a large spread of canvas, making them fast and highly maneuverable. A frigate, well handled, could hold it’s own. But frigates were NEVER designed or intended to stand in the “line of battle” against ships-of-the-line. The USS Constitution – a large frigate at 44 guns – and perhaps the most famous of them all. Picture taken in 2012 under easy sail. Small, fast, and cheap to build, frigates required a comparatively small crew. Two-deckers and three-deckers were much more expensive, required huge amounts of seasoned timber to build, took 600 to 900 men to operate (lots of gun crews), and were vastly more expensive to maintain. It only made sense to scatter “cheap” frigates around the edges of a far-flung empire for policing duties. And that is how the modern “cruiser” and “gunboat diplomacy” came into being. Time passed and the wooden frigate of Nelson’s Age evolved to accommodate new technologies. In the 1850’s steam propulsion began to take over from sails. During the 1860’s rifled cannon and armor plate appeared. And by the 1890’s, the frigate had finally taken on the aspects of a modern “cruiser” – all steam and steel. USS Galena – 1869 -- Still wooden-hulled, but sporting a steam engine and rifled cannon. Oddly, the Americans did not feel the need of a modern navy and relied on Civil War relics for decades. USS Olympia – Commodore Dewey’s flagship at the battle of Manila Bay, 1898. All steel construction, triple expansion engines, and revolving armored gun turrets. A remarkably fast jump into the 20th Century. Before the 1880’s, Germany had no colonial possessions, largely because there was nothing that could seriously be called “Germany”. Prior to the 1870’s what passed for Germany was a loose amalgamation of Kingdoms, Grand Duchies, Duchies, City States, and numerous small principalities. Only in 1871 did Prussian Chancellor Otto von Bismarck engineer the Franco-Prussian War and create an excuse to unite all the “Germanic” states under Prussia’s leadership. In a single stroke, the “Iron Chancellor” crushed French opposition, played mid-wife to modern Germany, had his King declared an Emperor, and catapulted the newly-minted “Empire” into the realm of major-player politics (Weltpolitik). Prussian steam corvette Augusta in action against the French – 1870. Proclamation of the German Empire – 18 January, 1871. Within a few years, the new nation had taken stock of their assets and an industrial boom started that would push Germany to the forefront of European manufacturing and scientific development. Factories, railroads, steamship lines, optical firms, banks, chemical plants, and shipyards changed an agrarian nation into an industrial powerhouse. Exports of German goods and machinery soared, producing large trade profits and a greatly increased tax base for the government. Soon enough, ambition caught up with profits, and in 1882 the Colonial League was started by a group of prominent businessmen, industrialists, bankers, and politicians. The group financed pamphlet publications, public meetings, and newspaper articles, while their political members applied pressure in the Reichstag (parliament) – all to acquire overseas territory. They could see the wealth and power an empire had brought Great Britain, and they wanted their “place in the Sun”. When Wilhelm II took the throne in 1888, colonial possessions became a matter of Royal prestige. If his uncle, England’s Edward VII, had colonies, then so must he. Between 1883 and 1885 Germany obtained territories in West Africa, South West Africa, East Africa, half of New Guinea, and the Marshal, Solomon, and Caroline Islands in the southwest Pacific. Later, in 1898, on a pretext, the German East Asiatic Squadron was ordered to seize the strategically located port of Tsingtao, China – and later negotiated a 99-year lease from the Chinese. The original idea was that Tsingtao would provide a lucrative gateway for increased trade with China. But the squadron commander, Kapitan zur See Otto von Diederichs, knew – despite what the politicians said -- Tsingtao would be a dagger aimed directly at British trade routes to Australia, China, Japan, Malaya, and even the Indian Ocean. As mentioned in previous chapters, overseas colonies provided friendly coaling stations for warships, and your “political influence” – in peace or war -- was limited to how far a warship could go on full coal bunkers. The collier SS Gotha taking on coal at the Cuxhaven Coaling Station. Gotha is a commercial collier leased by the Navy from the Norddeutscher Lloyd Steamship Line. (You can just barely make out the blue and white “house flag” of the Norddeutscher Line flying from the second derrick mast.) It was not uncommon for the Imperial Navy to lease civilian colliers – especially on long voyages – because there were never enough government-owned colliers. This one will be joining a reinforcement convoy of cruisers and destroyers bound for Tsingtao, China. The warships will coal from Gotha first, and when her holds are empty, she will set course for Hamburg, and home. Everything in the basin – the collier, tugs, coal lighters, and the mooring dolphins – were all modeled by @AP. The coaling piers were modified and re-lotted from the “PEG-SNM Naval Series”. This is a detail shot of Gotha. Note the dingy, worn texture of the weathered hull and the rusty look to the metal decking on the forecastle. The aft bunker hold is full and waiting for the hatch covers, while the fore hold is receiving the last few buckets of coal. Crewmen are moving around the deck, working on the forward winch, and “working coal”. The cargo booms are wonderfully detailed and realistic -- complete with the rigging to work them. “AP” put a great deal of effort into perfecting the art of rigging his models – very fine lines that do not overpower the model. And if you look closely, you will see a difference in thickness between the boom rigging and the “rat lines” reaching to the top of the mast – a distinction unique to his skill and technique. AND – “AP” does his research -- the rigging is all functional, not decorative. The texture colors on the ship blend quite well with one another and the white awning spread on the fantail is an excellent touch. The level of detail is unbelievable – you can even see the individual oars in the ship’s boats! You will also note “AP” has given the same level of detail to the tugboat Thor and the lighters in the foreground. Gotha was modeled from the Prometheus Class colliers built for the US Navy just prior to WW I. We chose that particular ship because she resembled many of the colliers of the period, incorporated all of the best innovations, and had been designed with clean and graceful lines – unusual in any collier. Having obtained colonies, more as an afterthought than a coherent plan, the “Kaiserliche Admiralitat” (Admiralty) came to the conclusion their aging collection of sailing frigates, steam frigates, and corvettes, were of minimal combat value and inadequate -- even for overseas duty. The recent explosion in German industrial exports and maritime trade only added to the dilemma. Not only were the colonies in need of protection, but the trade routes to and from them, as well. Germany’s sworn enemy, the French, were known to favor commerce raiding. And the far more numerous ships of the Royal Navy were a potential threat to trade routes everywhere in the world. The publication of Alfred Thayer Mahan’s “The Influence Of Seapower Upon History” (1890) merely printed what everyone already knew – but he solidly drove the point home. The book could be summed up in a single sentence...If your fleet was not strong enough to control the seas, then your commerce would be swept from them and your warships bottled up in harbor. Accordingly, the first “modern” protected cruisers and unprotected cruisers were commissioned into the Imperial Navy in 1888. Cruiser development in the Kaiserliche Marine, like other navies, followed several threads, and was much debated in the offices of the Reichsmarineamt (Naval Office). But it eventually came down to just two types: a small, cheap, unprotected cruiser for scouting ahead of the battle fleet, and a slightly larger protected cruiser to provide strength and support for the scouting elements, as well as being strong enough to support colonial stations and hunt down enemy commerce raiders. Over the next two decades, these two types would evolve into the light cruiser and the armored cruiser. UNPROTECTED CRUISERS The “Unprotected” cruiser is just what it says – unprotected! The only thing between you and an enemy shell was the half inch steel skin of the ship. This type of warship was common to navies the world over as they transitioned from wood and sail to steel and steam. Designers knew cruisers, like the early frigates, would have to be fast in order to perform their scouting duties in advance of the fleet. They also understood they would have to be cheap enough to make it practical to deploy them on distant patrol and police duty. The head of the Kaiserliche Marine, General Leo von Caprivi, decided the two requirements were incompatible and ordered ships specifically designed for duty on foreign stations. The result was two Schwalbe Class unprotected cruisers commissioned in 1888. Unprotected Cruiser SMS Schwalbe – 1888. The operational requirements on distant duty stations largely defined their final form. The need to operate close inshore and up winding river estuaries resulted in a shallow draft and shorter hull length. An auxiliary sail rig (barquentine) was provided since engine repair facilities were scarce in the colonies. The sail rig also allowed the cruisers to escort merchant vessels over long distances while conserving coal. Finally, the absolute necessity to conduct police actions in the colonies required a crew large enough to spare a landing party. These ships were about 220 feet long by 30 feet wide, and weighed in around 1,100 tons. The stem and stern portions were constructed of wood, while the center section of the hull was half inch steel. The whole hull was covered in wood and sheathed with copper to reduce marine fouling, and a bronze ram was mounted on the bow. Schwalbe could make a respectable 14 knots on twin shafts with a cruising radius of 1,600 kilometers. Caprivi wanted the overseas cruisers to be able to take care of themselves and insisted on an overly heavy armament – eight 4.1-inch guns. Two were mounted forward in sponsons overhanging the sides, with two similar guns aft, and two guns either side amidships, mounted in the hull. She carried a crew of 9 officers and 108 enlisted. They proved to be good sea boats and their deployment overseas allowed Caprivi to retire five old sailing frigates. In all, nine unprotected cruisers were built, ending in 1895 with Gefion – much improved at 4,275 tons, mounting ten 4.1-inch guns, and capable of 20 knots. And – her armor protection had increased to a full inch! Unprotected cruiser Gefion - 1895 But the idea of only building “unprotected” cruisers for foreign service was quickly seen as too “specialized”, and the Reichstag was not exactly free with their spending. Caprivi realized he was going to have to have ships that could multi-task. The naval architects of the Reichsmarineamt began design work for more versatile cruisers capable of performing fleet duties. But the unprotected cruisers provided valuable experience in both design and operational service and formed the basis of future designs that would become what we know as light cruisers. The modernization of the German cruiser force had begun. LIGHT CRUISERS Light Cruiser Gazelle - The first modern light cruiser built for the German Navy - 1901. General Caprivi’s next small cruisers would have to operate with the Hochseeflotte in home waters, and be able to fulfill the policing duties on “colonial” stations. The designers needed something small, with a bit of armor protection, and an optimal combination of speed, armament, and the stability to handle the nasty North Sea weather -- as well as the endurance to operate in the colonial empire. The naval architects were so successful, the Gazelle Class became the template for all the light cruisers designed through 1914. Gazelle was the lead ship of a ten-ship class, commissioned between 1901 and 1904. She was 344 feet long with a 40 foot beam, and displaced 2,600 tons. Her twin shafts generated 19.5 knots with a range of 3,570 miles at cruising speed. (A speed of 19.5 knots might seem slow, but was satisfactory in an age when most battleships made only 18 knots -- or less.) Her crew consisted of 14 officers and 243 enlisted men. The cruiser mounted ten 4.1-inch guns in single mounts with shields, capable of firing 15 rounds per minute. Two guns were placed on either side of the forecastle, three on either side amidships, and two more on either side of the fantail. There were three 17.7-inch torpedo tubes – one submerged in the bow and one on deck on either broadside – with eight reloads. Under various Naval laws passed by the Reichstag, the Gazelle Class would, eventually, be followed by 37 additional light cruisers built and commissioned prior to the end of the First World War. And each successive class was a little bigger and a little faster because the naval architects were determined to produce better ships – ship for ship – than their English counterparts. DRESDEN CLASS LIGHT CRUISER – 1909 The Reichstag Naval Law of 1898 called for the construction of 30 light cruisers beginning with the ten ship Gazelle Class. This was followed by 7 ships of the Bremen Class between 1903 – 1905. Next were 4 ships of the Konigsberg Class of 1905 – 1907. Following that came SMS Dresden and her sister ship SMS Emden, comprising a two-ship class commissioned in 1909. Dresden was built at Blohm & Voss Shipyard, Hamburg, while Emden was constructed at the Kaiserliche Werft (Imperial Dockyard), Danzig. There were some minor visual differences, but the basic pattern set by Gazelle was closely adhered to. The chief improvement was an additional boiler to increase speed to 24 knots. In the picture above, you see Emden and Dresden “nested” against a pier taking on provisions. When finished, Dresden has been ordered to join the 4th Scouting Group in the main anchorage. Emden will be moved to the repair docks to have her engines overhauled for a long voyage. His Majesty, the Kaiser, has approved reinforcements for the East Asiatic Squadron and Emden will be joining a small convoy of warships and colliers bound for Tsingtao, China. The very fine cruiser models are provided by @Barroco Hispano. The piers were modified from the PEG-SNM series of naval lots, with the addition of 100 ton crane models by “AP”. Wooden caissons (WMP Seawalls) were added to the front of the piers to act as “bumpers”. The roads are Paeng’s Grunge Concrete lots, while various buildings were re-purposed as workshops and warehouses. The warehouse adjacent to the pier is borrowed from a “PEG Seaport” – and since I wanted a long warehouse, I simply butted two ends together. The crane alongside the rail siding is from the PEG-SNM Dry Dock lot and was patterned after a crane commonly found in US Navy yards from the late 1930’s through the 1950’s. You will also note two excellent Odin Class tug boats tied up along the seawall. This is a close-up of the tugs in that grouping. The white harbor tug in the picture was gifted by “WolfZe” and is reminiscent of steam tugs in the port of New York from the 1880’s into the late 1940’s. The remaining tugs are by “AP”. From lower left to right, they are a Midgard Class, A Passat Class, and two Odin Class, alongside the seawall. The Midgard Class is an older, low horsepower tug, suitable for harbors, rivers, and inshore coastal work. The Passat Class are modern (1910), state of the art tugs, with high horsepower, and capable of operating at sea. The Odin Class are a slimmed-down, slightly more modern, increased horsepower version of the Midgards. These beautifully modeled little boats are patterned after real tugs and have a dingy, overworked, weathered look that really brings them to life. If you examine these models closely, the level of detail is absolutely astonishing. Scratch-built -- they are courtesy of @AP. The Dresden Class was, at 3,660 tons, much heavier than the earlier Gazelle, and just a bit larger with dimensions of 388 feet in length and a 44 foot beam. The armament remained the same with ten 4.1-inch guns – 6 mounted on the deck in shields and 4 mounted in the hull. They kept the original arrangement with two on the forecastle and two on the fantail and the remainder on either broadside. There were also two 17.7-inch torpedo tubes mounted on deck amidships. Since Gazelle’s time, armor protection had been increased in each successive class until Dresden sported a 3.1-inch deck, gun shields of 2 inches, and a 3.9-inch conning tower. This is an excellent view of the bow -- very fine lines -- but short. Note the water barriers curving around the guns. Those guns would have been nearly impossible to work in any sort of seaway. The bridge structure has also been raised one deck and the wheelhouse fully enclosed, with spray shields on the bridge wings. This is another indication of the amount of spray and water coming across the bows at high speed or in rough weather. STRASSBURG - MAGDEBURG CLASS LIGHT CRUISER – 1909 Strassburg was one of four ships of the Magdeburg Class laid down in 1910 and commissioned in 1912. This class included a number of innovations -- a new longitudinal hull framing system with a minimum of 14 watertight compartments, a cleaner and more efficient hull form, and a “clipper” bow rather than the usual ram bow. These ships were also designed for easy conversion to fast minelayers, with a cut down quarter deck providing space to install mine racks. More significantly, the Magdeburg’s were the first Imperial light cruisers with an armor belt on the waterline. Model courtesy of "Barroco Hispano". The improvements to the class raised displacement to 4,570 tons and lengthened the hull to 455 feet and a breadth of 45 feet. With a length-to-breadth ratio of 10 to 1, the cruiser took on the shape of a “pencil” – making it much easier to push through the water. As clearly shown by the placement of the funnels, fully one half of the ship was occupied by her 16 boilers. Combined with the installation of steam turbines and a three shaft propeller arrangement, the ship was easily capable of 27.5 knots. All ships of the class were originally armed with twelve 4.1-inch guns, but when war broke out, it was found that the small guns were no longer sufficient to stop newer and larger destroyers. During the course of the war the armament was upgraded to what you see in the picture – seven 5.9-inch guns. There were also two 17.7-inch torpedo tubes mounted on deck, one on either beam. You can just make them out at the edge of the deck between the third and fourth funnel. (It should be noted that between the World Wars, the Washington Naval Treaty of 1922 limited all cruisers to 10,000 tons, while The London Naval Treaty of 1936 officially divided cruisers into 6 inch gun light cruisers, and 8 inch gun heavy cruisers. From 1922, this was the standard classification of cruisers – until the advent of the “missile cruiser”.) The Magdeburg Class was armored with a waterline belt of 2.4 inches amidships, tapering at the bow – the stern was unarmored. The deck armor consisted of 2.5 inches of plate forward, 1.6 inches amidships, and 0.70 inches aft. She had a protective armored deck of 1.6 inches sloping down and connecting to the belt armor. The conning tower was 3.9 inches thick and the main battery guns were protected by 2-inch shields. All in all – a vast improvement over Gazelle’s meager protection. (Chapter 2 will have a full explanation of the principle of the protective armored deck.) Three of the four ships in the class had rather eventful careers: Magdeburg was deployed to the Baltic where she fired the very first shots of the Great War when she shelled the Russian port of Libau. In late August, 1914, she participated in a sweep of the Gulf of Finland and while steaming along the Estonian coast, she grounded off Odensholm Island and could not be re-floated. Soon, a pair of Russian cruisers arrived and seized the ship. The Russians recovered a pair of naval code books, one of which, they passed to the British. For the remainder of the war, this code book enabled the British to read much of the Hochseeflotte’s wireless traffic and alerted the British to the planned operations in May, 1916 -- allowing them to ambush the Imperial Fleet at Jutland. Though there were suspicions that the German codes had been “broken”, no steps to change them were ever taken. Breslau, upon commissioning, was immediately assigned to the Mediterranean along with the new battlecruiser Goeben, to form the “Mittelmeerdivision” (Mediterranean Squadron). This squadron was sent to look after German nationals and government interests in the Balkan region during the Balkan War of 1912. After evading British cruiser forces in the early hours of WW I, the two ships steamed up the Bosphorus and dropped anchor off Constantinople. Berlin arranged a deal to transfer them to the Turkish Navy – whereupon, the Ottoman Empire declared war on Russia. (There was a great display of the German crews parading on deck, removing their Imperial headgear, and donning the famous red Turkish Fez.) Both ships remained active in the Black Sea, laying minefields, bombarding ports and installations, and even ferrying troops and supplies for the Turks. Breslau (renamed Midilli) was mined and sunk in 1918, during the Battle of Imbros, while Goeben (Yavuz Sultan Selim) survived the war and was sold for scrap in 1967. (The shame is that no one thought to preserve the last remaining battlecruiser from World War I!) SMS Goeben proceeding on final sea trials – 1912. Strassburg was assigned to the Scouting Forces of the Hochseeflotte in 1913 and went on to see action at the Battle of Heligoland and the Bombardment of Scarborough, Hartlepool, and Whitby in 1914. In 1917 she saw action against the Russians during the operations in the Gulf of Riga. After the Armistice in 1918, she served briefly in the Wiemar Republic’s Reichsmarine before being ceded to Italy as war reparations in 1920. She served as Taranto in the “Regia Marina”, which is why our picture shows her flying an Italian flag. When Italy surrendered in 1943, she was scuttled by her crew. The Germans quickly occupied Italy to take advantage of the easily defended mountainous terrain, and took the time to raise their former warship from the bottom of the harbor. She was bombed and sunk by Allied aircraft in late 1943, raised again by the Germans, and bombed and sunk yet again in September, 1944. A somewhat dubious honor, but she must hold the record for the number of sinkings by a single ship. She was broken up for scrap in 1946 – 1947. Stralsund, alone among the class, served a, more or less, mundane existence. She was assigned to the Scouting Force for the majority of her career, seeing action in the raids on the English coast and at Heligoland in 1914, and Dogger Bank in 1915. She was in the dockyard during Jutland, but served in the Reichsmarine (Wiemar Republic) after the war, before being ceded to France, where she served as Mulhouse until 1925. She was eventually scrapped in 1935. KARLSRUHE CLASS LIGHT CRUISER – 1914 SMS Rostock – The last light cruiser to join the fleet before the outbreak of war in 1914. SMS Karlsruhe and Rostock constituted a two ship class and were the last light cruisers to join the Kaiserliche Marine prior to World War I. These ships were virtually identical to the preceding Magdeburg Class, but were slightly heavier at 4,900 tons, a bit longer at 466 feet, and capable of making 29.3 knots – a considerable improvement achieved largely through slight alterations to the hull lines that gave the ships a smoother form and more “rake” to the “clipper” bow. They carried the same armament as the Magdeburg’s – twelve 4.1-inch guns. KONIGSBERG CLASS LIGHT CRUISERS – 1916 - 1917 This four ship class was composed of Konigsberg, Karlsruhe, Emden, and Nurnberg – all named after light cruisers lost earlier in the war. (Which can cause some confusion.) They were commissioned into the Kaiserliche Marine in 1916 and 1917, which was rather late in the war. Konigsberg and Emden were built at the AG Weser Shipyard in Bremen – Karlsruhe at the Imperial Dockyard Kiel – and Nurnburg at the Howaldtswerke Shipyard, also in Kiel. In the picture above, the beautiful and detailed cruiser models speak for themselves, and they are courtesy of @Barroco Hispano. The breakwater in the background is by “Uki”. But the small, details may be of interest as well. For many years I have seen period pictures of battleships at anchor, with boat booms extended from their sides, and swarms of small boats coming and going. But I was never able to depict this very common and somewhat mundane activity which has everything to do with the realistic portrayal of life in the fleet. Here you see the boat boom out and a cutter tied up – the crew unloading boxes to the ship. Ships riding at anchor are small, tightly packed worlds unto themselves. Communication with the ship was strictly for “Navy’ business and could only be accomplished by flag hoists, shore semaphore, wireless telegraphy, or a “dispatch boat”. Ship’s business errands could only be run by boat. Reports and messages had to be sent ashore. Mail had to be ferried out to the ship. Food had to be brought out in lighter barges towed by tugs. Nearly everything we take for granted had to be accomplished by small boats. Harbors and anchorages were, literally, alive with small boats plying back and forth between ship and shore. Thanks to “AP” no detail of realism is too small to get attention. The boat boom extending out from the ship is a prop, as is the cutter unloading. They are placed on a 1x1 lot, carefully adjusted to mesh with the side of the ship. They can be placed alongside almost any ship and provide an entirely new degree of realism. You will also note the two cruisers are moored at the bow to a “battleship buoy”, also sometimes referred to as a “barrel buoy”. These are permanent, floating mooring buoys anchored to the seabed with heavy chains and concrete bases. Ships pull alongside and “fish” the buoy toward the hull so a mooring hawser can be tied off, or they send a small boat to “tie off”. These have been around for centuries, in one form or another, in every corner of the world. And courtesy of “AP” – now you will see them in SC4. This one is also a free-standing 1x1 lot plopped as close as possible to the ships. As the last “full” cruiser class commissioned into the Imperial navy, and just an incremental improvement over the preceding Wiesbaden Class, these ships were still quite impressive for their day. Their length was 496 feet, with a 46 foot beam, displacing 5,440 tons. Their design incorporated eighteen watertight compartments with a double bottom over 45% of the length of the keel. The cruisers were manned by 17 officers and 458 men and were generally regarded as good sea boats -- highly maneuverable with a tight turning radius. (Note: There were, in fact, four more cruisers commissioned before the Armistice, but two of them were minelayers, and the very last two saw no actual combat.) Karlsruhe was fitted with two sets of high-pressure geared turbines, while the other three ships received direct-drive steam turbines, and all were powered by ten coal-fired and two double-ended, oil-fired boilers. The turbines drove a double shaft arrangement and reached a trial speed of 27.5 knots. However, the trials were conducted in shallow water due to war time dangers, and in deep water the ships could have exceeded 29 knots. Armament consisted of eight 5.9-inch guns in pedestal mounts with shields. Two guns were placed side-by-side forward, two on either broadside, and two more, centreline, and super-firing aft. The rate of fire was 5 to 7 rounds per minute. Four 19.7-inch torpedo tubes were installed, one on deck on either broadside, and two more submerged in the hull. Eight torpedoes were carried. The ships were also equipped to carry 200 mines. Armor protection was virtually the same as the Magdeburg Class cruisers. Konigsberg and Nurnburg participated in the Second Battle Of Heligoland in November 1917, when they were providing close escort for minesweepers clearing channels through British minefields near the island. They were ambushed by a group of Royal Navy destroyers and light cruisers escorted by the battlecruiser HMS Repulse. During the engagement, Konigsberg was struck by a 15” shell from Repulse which did no serious structural damage, but caused a large fire. The outnumbered German ships immediately fell back on their advancing support units. The British pursuit was broken off when they identified the topmasts of the dreadnought battleships SMS Kaiser and Kaiserin approaching. And that was the last action by the Hochseeflotte that could be called a “battle”. The blueprints for Konigsberg would later be used as the basis for the initial design work on the Emden, built for the Reichsmarine in the 1920’s. The design department had suffered severe budget cuts under the Wiemar Republic, and the Versailles Treaty had closed the Navy’s Ship Testing Institute, but the original Konigsberg blueprints had survived the chaos following the Kaiser’s abdication. Consequently, the architects saved time and money by taking a proven design and building upon it. All in all, the pattern of the little Gazelle had led the way for those that followed. By 1914 the Kaiserliche Marine had, by process of evolution, built a solid force of fast, well armed, and reasonably armored light cruisers. Light Cruiser Dresden II – Last cruiser commissioned into the Kaiserliche Marine - 1918. NEXT TIME…… PROTECTED CRUISERS: A BRIEF EXPERIMENT Once gain…... MY MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his generously given time and talent creating so many beautiful warships. MY SPECIAL THANKS to @AP for his collaboration in this shared project. It is his considerable skill and talent, and much valuable time spent creating so many wonderful props that have added so much variety, originality, and “life” to the dockyards. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit. You may wish to visit these CJ’s as well…… SERIES I: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: WILHELMSHAVEN SERIES II: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN Appearing – Work In Publication SERIES III: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: BREMERHAVEN Appearing -- ??? And please feel free to drop in at… THE SIMTROPOLIS SHIPYARD https://community.simtropolis.com/forums/topic/761469-simtropolis-shipyard/?tab=comments#comment-1766496- 14 Comments
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CHAPTER 19 -- THE REFIT BASIN
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 19: THE REFIT BASIN Just a quick observation. In the picture above, two men from a small boat are standing on a “ledge” built into Arizona’s side. That “ledge” is the top edge of the 13.5 inch thick armor belt designed to protect against short range fire as well as plunging “near misses” that might actually strike below the waterline. The “armor belt” is clearly visible for most of its’ length. The term “refit” is both vague, and all inclusive. It covers a whole range of actions, but might be, more properly, understood to mean “refit, repair, and modernize”. REFIT Every battleship periodically went in for a “refit” – but historians are often vague about the details – so “refit” could mean almost anything. But ship’s service records (similar to a “Regimental History”) mention frequent “refits” – usually twice a year – sometimes more often with hard use. It was a lot like taking your car to the mechanic for a check-up. Bearings were removed, cleaned, inspected, greased, and reinstalled. Lubricating systems would be drained and refilled. Coolant systems drained, flushed, and refilled. Hydraulic system seals inspected and replaced. The boiler fires were pulled and fireboxes cleaned. Boiler water tubes were inspected and replaced as needed. Moving parts, like crankshafts and pistons were greased and inspected, and turbines inspected for fractured blades. These were mostly things that could not be done while on active service, but not so major as to require dry docking. USS MARYLAND REFIT AT BREMERTON NAVY YARD, PUGET SOUND CIRCA 1936 REPAIR Anyone owning an automobile knows there are a hundred things that can go “wanky” in your car – burned out lights, leaky seals, engine wear, and transmission slippage – to name but a few. A battleship was a unified, interconnected, mass of moving parts – more than any other mechanical object on Earth. Gigantic engines, several stories tall, moved upwards of 40,000 tons dead-weight through mountainous seas for days on end and thousands of miles of continuous steaming. Breakage and wear, with the occasional “failure”, was inevitable. Atlantic gales could pound decks with the force of a steam hammer, while Pacific Typhoons could rip railing stanchions out of the deck and tear inch-thick metal bridge screens into twisted shreds. And then, there was always the occasional “fender-bender” with another ship. So regardless of the circumstances – repair was a foregone conclusion. USS MARYLAND REPAIR AT BREMERTON NAVY YARD 1942. ARMOR PIERCING BOMB DAMAGE FROM PEARL HARBOR ATTACK. MODERNIZATION This requires a bit of explaining. The birth of the modern dreadnought battleship in 1905 fired the “starter gun” for the largest and most costly naval arms race in history. Nations suddenly found themselves burdened with fleets of pre-dreadnought battleships – now obsolete and unable to stand in the line of battle. Outgunned and outclassed, their warships would have been swept from the seas. The result was a mad rush to build new fleets of modern dreadnoughts to protect sea lanes and maintain prestige-standing as a “great power”. The lamps burned late into the night at every Admiralty design office in the world. Wherever a new keel was laid, foreign naval attaches and spies flocked to gather intelligence. When the intelligence was received back home, their design bureau began planning a new dreadnought – bigger and better than the competition. USS OKLAHOMA REFIT AT BREMERTON NAVY YARD, PUGET SOUND, FEBRUARY 1941. Great Britain, as the leader, had to build “more and faster” to guarantee an advantage over the next two biggest navies combined. That was the “Fleet Standard” in those days. A numerical advantage over the combined fleets of Russia and France ensured that Britannia would rule the waves. Even before HMS Dreadnought was accepted from the builder’s yard, the three-ship Bellerophon Class was laid down in 1906, the three-ship St. Vincent Class in 1907, and the two-ship Neptune Class in 1908. The only other naval power capable of such massive building was the United States. But though they kept a watchful eye on their “cousins in the colonies”, the British saw no serious threat from that quarter. And Britain, in effect, had four powerful dreadnoughts in service before any nation launched a single challenger. Imperial Germany would eventually take up that challenge. The “numbers game” was all well and good, but like any “drug”, it was addictive and had side-effects that resonated throughout every navy possessing dreadnoughts. (1) If your enemy built a dreadnought, you had to build one bigger and better. (2) Science, technology, and engineering got into the act. Each succeeding class would have more guns, bigger guns – more speed, bigger engines – more armor, thicker armor, a better armoring scheme – better fire control systems – etc, etc. (3) There was always the price tag to be considered. The last British pre-dreadnoughts had cost 1.4 million pounds per ship. HMS Dreadnought cost 1.7 million. With each class designed to be bigger and better, it was inevitable. The last WW I era dreadnought battlecruiser (Hood) cost just over 6 million pounds! So “bigger and better” sounded “Jolly Good” – until the bill arrived in the mail! Some side effects were more obvious than others – though the cost was a bitter pill, indeed. But one hidden drawback was “designed obsolescence”. As each new class of dreadnought improved on the last one – it made the preceding battleships less and less modern. HMS Dreadnought was launched in 1905. By the outbreak of war in 1914, she was considered “second class” and unfit to lay in the line of battle. Advancements in size, science, and improving technology had ended her useful life. And so it was in ALL navies – though worse in some. The shipbuilding industries in France, Italy, and Russia were so slow that ships were often obsolete before launching. USS ARIZONA REFIT AT BREMERTON NAVY YARD, PUGET SOUND, EARLY 1941. The heightened political tensions in the second decade of the 20th Century provided ample excuse to continue building expensive new battleships that rendered older ones obsolete. And when war finally erupted – armaments industries went into high gear – especially heavy artillery and shipyards. By November, 1918, Germany had collapsed and the Allied Powers found themselves victorious – but bankrupt. The entire geopolitical map of Europe had been altered forever, monarchies had been swept away, and the world economy was in a shambles. Germany was desolate, large swaths of France were laid waste, and Britain could hardly find tuppence to rub together. The phenomenally expensive cost of modern industrialized warfare had driven even the victors to the brink of collapse. The Washington Naval Arms Limitation Treaty of 1922 saved the world from a new and exorbitantly expensive naval arms race that seemed to be shaping up between the victorious nations. The treaty, basically, limited certain nations to a given “tonnage allowance” in warship categories – battleships, cruisers, etc, etc. This, in effect, provided a solution to the problem of what to do with older, high-maintenance warships. Only the best, biggest, and most modern could be kept within the tonnage limitations. Old pre-dreadnoughts and “second class” dreadnoughts were done away with – scrapped or expended as gunnery targets or subjects for weapons testing. The treaty also included a ten-year capital ship “holiday” – current construction to stop immediately and no new battleships or battlecruisers until 1932. This neatly eliminated the political problems of trying to spend scarce taxpayer money on “big-ticket” battleships. Without new construction – fleets with aging battleships had to find some inexpensive way to remain competitive – thus was born the concept of “modernization”. USS NEVADA UNDERGOING MODERNIZATION AT NORFOLK NAVY YARD, 1927. The idea was simple – at least in concept. A good example is the 1927 modernization of USS Nevada. All of eleven years old at the time, Nevada was taken into the graving dock at Norfolk Navy Yard and the work preformed between August, 1927, and January, 1930. The reason for the long delay was two fold; (1) The US Congress was miserly and refused to fund the entire cost in a single fiscal year, and (2) The Navy didn’t complain because it allowed them to keep the dockyard labor force on the payroll. It was critically important to maintain a labor force experienced enough to construct and repair the complicated and technically demanding battleships. But the work, itself, was of some interest. The old “lattice cage” masts were cut down and replaced by tripod masts with huge multi-level fighting tops for modern spotting and fire control systems. Her direct-drive steam turbines were lifted out and replaced with a new set of geared turbines from canceled construction. These would use less fuel and provide a greater operating radius. Her main battery turrets were modified to allow 30 degree elevation – extending her gun range from 23,000 yards to 34,000 yards – much more compatible with modern fire control capabilities. Anti-torpedo bulges (blisters) were added to the hull to provide better protection against ever-improving models of torpedoes. To make room for the “bulges”, Nevada’s original twelve Yarrow boilers were replaced with smaller and far more efficient “BE” models. Catapults were added for two spotter aircraft along with eight new 5 inch anti-aircraft guns. The old, cramped, bridge was replaced with a stronger and more spacious structure accommodating the new fire control devices. And, in a momentary fit of brilliance, it was decided to relocate her 5 inch secondary batteries from their hull casemates to the main deck. Unlike most “refits”, this job was done in a dry dock rather than a “refit basin”, largely because the “torpedo bulges” radically altered the hull. The remaining US Navy battleships all underwent much the same “modernization”, though each class differed somewhat. The New York Class is a case in point. In 1926, both she and her sister Texas, had their fourteen coal-fired boilers ripped out and were converted to modern oil-burners – in addition to the other changes. So under treaty limitations and the financial constraints of the “Great Depression”, navies the world over hung onto their aging dreadnoughts and made do with technological “upgrades”. A thorough modernization often added a decade or more to their useful life. USS ARIZONA TAKING ON STORES AFTER COMPLETING MODERNIZATION. Pictured above is an area overview of the Refit basin (center). In the upper right corner, you can just see the end of the “Fitting-Out Basin” with the barge wharf. Below that is the administration offices responsible for managing the industry and facilities sprawling over “the Mainland” area – mostly the “Fitting-Out Basin”, “Refit” Basin, and the large “Dry Dock” complex. Due west of that is the central warehousing facility for the base. And in the bottom left, you can see a portion of the dry docks. You might well ask why there are two basins as well as a large dry dock complex. Almost all the work done by the two basins could be done in the dry docks, while basins were unable to do work below the waterline. But it is simply a matter of volume. The two largest Imperial naval bases, Wilhelmshaven and Kiel, were equipped in this manner because they possessed the only “government” shipyards – Kaiserliche Werft Kiel and Kaiserliche Werft Wilhelmshaven. While private builders might construct battleships, not all of them were equipped to do the fitting-out work. (The cost of an essential 250 ton cantilever crane was outrageous!) Others might not have the expertise to install engines or main gun systems – so the alternative was to move the hulls to a government yard for completion. At the same time, Wilhelmshaven often had more than one dreadnought on the slipways. Launching and fitting-out schedules had to be arranged carefully to avoid overlap. (I would love to have included shipyards in my harbor, but no one has yet created a realistic, game-scale lot – or “prop” warships to go in it.) This is a closer view of the basin. On the docks, you can see various supply and repair parts, as well as stacked containers filled with a variety of parts common to warships. The smaller cranes are used to hoist the stores aboard. Trains are brought directly behind the docks to facilitate unloading, while farther back are assorted machine shops, forges, casting plants, and assembly shops. The industrial buildings are Maxis, with most of the warehouses and the big crane from Nob’s “1905 Series”. Some “filler lots” (barrels, tanks, storage containers) are from various @T Wrecksseries. Concrete surfaces are either NBVC “Container Port” or “Paeng Grunge”. Virtually everything was re-lotted and “dressed out” with a multitude of different things from the “prop box” (what you find in EDITOR). The “docking control towers” on either side of the entrance were borrowed from a Maxis airfield. 384_REFIT BASIN OVERVIEW NIGHT Here is a detail shot of activity around the shops and train. A smaller “Bipin” crane is unloading steel girders and cases of mechanical equipment, while courtesy of @APwe have sailors preparing propellers for shipment to the dry docks, and at the far end of the dock, a naval detachment has arrived to assist in loading anchors onto the same train. Note the impression of “controlled chaos”. Gainfully employed dockyard quays were literal hives of activity – ten or fifteen different jobs aboard ship being simultaneously supplied from the dockside stores – a hundred or more workers milling about – steam whistles screeching, and smoke and steam belching from the locomotives. And only five more hours before quitting time and a pint at the pub! This is a detail shot of the Forging and Casting shop. Sometimes during a refit, older warships would have to replace highly specialized broken parts. Due to their age, it was often necessary to resort to old methods – casting the part from molten metal, forging it, then machining the part to the proper fit. This is the Maxis “Graber Smelting” lot – chosen because it suited the task and because it is actually quite a fine model. The detail, weathering, and authenticity is excellent work and the night-lighting is some of the best in the old “vanilla” game. The warehouse on the left is Maxis, while the older ones on the right are from “Nob”. Again, these were re-lotted and dressed-out with props, while the surrounding areas were filled in with a variety of custom 1x1 lots. Across the road is the office of the Refit Basin Controller. He sees to the daily operation of the basin and labor force. Here you can get a better look at the detail on “Nob’s” dockyard crane. It’s remarkably accurate and was, doubtless, taken from either a surviving example, or old pictures of Japanese dockyards. It could have been made just a bit taller, with a longer “jibe”, but is very authentic, nonetheless. Here, it is depicted as an aging, but still valuable, cantilever crane of 150 ton capacity. Refit basins were not equipped with the larger 350 ton cranes because they were not expected to handle extremely “heavy lifts”. If there was a heavy lift to be made, the ship would be moved to the Fitting-Out Basin where the large crane was installed. It was, simply put, financially prohibitive for a dockyard to invest the huge sums of money to buy more than one large cantilever crane. Some shipyards could not afford even one such crane. Just along dockside, you can also see two very nice 100-ton steam cranes by @AP. This picture also has another angle on the equally authentic “Graber Smelting” building. I did enhance the smoke effect just a tad. Two Viribus Unitis Class dreadnoughts have been moved into the basin to receive a complete upgrade of their fire control systems. A compartment in the hull, below the armor deck, will be converted to hold the “plotting room”, complete with electrical and communication leads, plotting boards, and mechanical computing devices. The 150 ton cantilever crane will be used to install two improved 25-foot stereoscopic “main system” range finders in heavily armored cupolas fore and aft, while the 100-ton steam cranes will install improved 20-foot, armored, optical range finders to the rear of “B’ and “X” turrets for use in “local control”. Once the hardware is installed, electrical and communication leads will have to be run from the range finders to the plotting room, and thence to the main battery turrets. When finished, the battleships will proceed to the gunnery range for a test shoot. The Austro-Hungarian Navy, in the end, would have a brief career beginning with their victory at the Battle of Lissa, in 1866, and ending with the collapse of the Monarchy, in 1918. But their officers were well educated and no less courageous than their counterparts, and their service was known to be small but efficient. The launch of HMS Dreadnought led to increased naval tension around the world, and the Austro-Hungarians eyed renewed Italian naval construction with some unease. Suspecting the Italians might ally with Britain in the event of war, the Austrians embarked on a naval expansion of their own – the four ships of the Viribus Units Class. At 469 feet in length, they were small battleships – but handsome in appearance and well-proportioned. The small size reflected the need for cash-economy, while their strategic mission of controlling the Adriatic Sea against Italy did not call for especially large dreadnoughts. The short hull form precluded any attempt at high speed, as there was simply no room for the required boilers. But 20 knots was deemed acceptable when laid down in 1910. A cursory examination shows the decks relatively clear, with a minimum of topside clutter concentrated between the main battery guns. The armored conning tower behind the fore turrets has a small and “spartan” bridge structure, with searchlights grouped atop the bridge, between the funnels, and around the main mast. The twin funnels, closely spaced, give the ships a graceful silhouette and all the boats are grouped forward of the aft control structure. But one item of interest can be seen. If you look closely along the deck edge amidships, you will see a cylindrical object with a “round piece with arms” perched on top. That is an armored cupola housing a 9-foot Barr & Stroud optical range finder / gun director for the six 5.9 inch secondary guns arranged in casemates below, on the battery deck. This feature is unusually sighted and might be unique among all the dreadnoughts. Their most impressive feature was their main battery guns. The excellent 12 inch, 45 caliber, Skoda K-10 model fired at a rate of 2.5 rounds per minute and was well noted for its’ accuracy. Two superfiring pairs of triple turrets were grouped fore and aft – allowing for a twelve-gun broadside. When launched, the first of the class, SMS Tegetthoff, became the first ship in the world to carry triple gun turrets. Smooth working, compact, and well-designed, the entire installation – gun houses, gun tubes, handling hoists, and turret machinery – were designed and built by Skoda Werk, Pilsen, Bohemia. At the time, Skoda was second only to Krupp Werk, Essen in the quality of their product. But considering the marvel of engineering that was their triple turret – the point is, indeed, arguable. (The German Army even bought 12 inch Skoda howitzers to “bust” the Belgian border forts.) Skoda’s triple turret, beyond being forward-thinking and technologically advanced, allowed the Viribus Unitis Class to pack the punch of a full battleship on a much smaller hull. The British and German navies routinely mounted twelve main battery guns in twin turrets, and in the case of HMS Agincourt they mounted fourteen. But this was only achieved at great cost by building a much longer hull, which in turn, required more armor protection and more powerful engines. Sadly, the Austrian naval architects underestimated the threat of torpedoes and mines. The underwater protection was not properly designed and did not leave sufficient space to absorb explosions, nor were the torpedo bulkheads of sufficient strength to withstand the blast. Szent Istvan was torpedoed by an Italian M.A.S. Boat and sank off Permuda in 1918. Viribus Unitis was surrendered to the new Yugoslav Government when the Empire dissolved – and sunk nine days later from an explosive device placed by Italian “Special Ops” swimmers. Tegetthoff was ceded to Italy in the surrender and broken up at La Spezia in 1924-1925. Prinz Eugen was ceded to France in 1920 as reparations and sunk by gunfire off Toulon in 1922. A sorry end to some truly fine warships. MY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for generously sharing his time and skills to provide these beautiful warships. AND – MY THANKS and gratitude to @AP for his generosity, kind patience, and willingness to share his skills in creating some of the finest cranes I have ever seen and some truly unique vignettes with his props and people. My “CJ” is now much more “demonstrative", and so much more fun with his creations to work with. You will see even more of his creative genius in the coming sequel..."IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN". If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! NEXT ENTRY…...The Dry Docks, Part 01. -
CHAPTER 18 -- THE FITTING-OUT BASIN
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 18: THE FITTING-OUT BASIN Above, you see a powerful Queen Elizabeth Class fast battleship, circa 1914. She is in a fairly advanced stage of construction in what is referred to as the “Fitting-Out Phase”. But that phrase covers a multitude of tasks as well as glossing over what was involved in getting her there. (Note 200-foot cantilever crane in background.) The shipwright’s trade dates to before recorded history, and in the beginning, ships were built by just about anyone handy at carpentry with some reasonably flat land at water’s edge. Hundreds of years later, shipbuilding had evolved into an industry. Sprawling yards jammed with sawmills, blacksmith’s shops, warehouses, sail lofts, rope walks, and large slipways holding the hulls of three-decked, wooden, ships-of-the-line. The process now required several phases of construction to build a warship – one of which – was “fitting-out”. But, as if things were not difficult enough, sails were replaced by steam engines, wooden warships were superseded by ironclads, ironclads gave way to all steel warships, pre-dreadnoughts evolved, and finally – HMS Dreadnought gave birth to the modern battleship. From that day -- until the end of the Dreadnought Era -- battleships would become the largest, most technically advanced, and mechanically complicated moving objects on Earth. In short – building dreadnoughts had become a specialized and challenging business! This is a wide overview of the “Fitting-Out Basin” facilities – located off the west end of the Turning Basin and the North Ship Channel. This made it possible to tow an unfinished warship through the ship channel and straight into the basin – no turns required and less opportunity for an accident. As in other European countries, the structure of the Imperial German naval armaments industry prior to 1914 was a mixed affair. The Krupp gun works at Essen provided all the artillery required by the German military – to include the massive rifles mounted on battleships. State Arsenals (factories) and Naval Dockyards provided for the construction of some dreadnoughts, while private yards were encouraged to take on government contracts. This practice expanded the shipbuilding base, and the labor force familiar with the complicated technology required -- a distinct advantage in a naval arms race. By the turn of the 20th Century, battleships had evolved to the degree that only eight shipyards in Germany were deemed capable of the task: Kaiserliche Werft, Wilhelmshaven – Kaiserliche Werft, Kiel – Germania Werft, Kiel – Howaldtswerke, Kiel – Blohm & Voss, Hamburg – Bremer Vulcan AG, Stettin – AG Weser, Bremen – and Schichau Yard, Danzig. The first step in building these giants was the “Design Study”, followed by an order from the Admiralstab (Navy High Command) to a building yard. When the necessary materials (timber, steel beams, armor plate) had been gathered and a slipway came open – construction began. From here on, the process varied widely based upon the capabilities of the building yard. Some components were fabricated on sight (the keel and hull frames), while others had to be shipped in from factories (large quantities of rolled steel plate). Special manufacturing tools were required to roll, taper, and bend the massive steel plates of the waterline armor belt – some of which could be done on site, but not all. And delays in delivering materials could add months to the building time. The fact that Imperial Germany might have three or four dreadnoughts under construction at the same time added further stress to the supply chain. In this view you see an Agincourt Class battleship and HMS Monarch of the Orion Class. Monarch belongs to one of the three battleship classes that formed the “backbone” of the Grand Fleet – a well-developed design – compact and “standardized”. Agincourt, by contrast, was a “one-off” design and somewhat larger. This illustrates the need to plan ahead when building dockyard facilities. Warships seemed to grow larger with each successive class – more speed means a longer ship to carry more boilers – more guns means a longer ship to accommodate one more gun turret, etc, etc. So it was wise to build basins bigger and wider to handle future warships. With the appearance of HMS Dreadnought, to their horror, the Admiralstab realized the Kiel Ship Canal would have to be widened to admit the new “dreadnoughts”! RUSSIAN BATTLESHIP POLTAVA fitting-out in Admiralty Yard, St. Petersburg, circa 1912. NOTE: Only temporary wooden structures built over barbette openings. The warship hull was usually built up to the level of the “surface” decks – forecastle, main, and quarter deck. For a wide variety of reasons the components actually installed inside the hull before launch conformed to no set pattern. The big underwater tubes were fitted in the torpedo flats and as the “main deck” was completed, the 6 inch secondary battery gun mounts were installed. Propellers and shafts might be fitted – provided there was deep water below the slipway. Engines would be installed only if the shipyard had the tools and expertise. But as a rule, few major interior components were installed prior to actual launch due to weight restrictions on the slipways. If a hull grew too heavy, rather than sliding down the slipway, it might actually get stuck. Tugs would have to be called in and getting the hull into the water might take weeks. More often than not, the hull interior was simply a series of decks, bulkheads, and subdivided compartments. Once launched, the empty hull would be towed to a “Fitting-Out Basin” – assuming the builder’s yard had one. The hull might well have to be towed to another shipyard. Afloat, and moored in the “Fitting-Out Basin”, the months-long construction process continued. Superstructure above the “basic” deck levels had to be built from scratch. The bridge, funnels, and deck houses had to be built with individual steel plates – each plate bent, punched, and shaped in presses ashore, then lifted into place. The concept of modular ship construction would not be invented until WW II. (See “Kaiser” Liberty Ships.) No two battleships were ever exactly alike. Each was, literally, “hand-made” from the blueprints and small adjustments were always made to get a proper fit. And steel plates were not easy to work with. Numerous small derricks were employed just shifting the heavy plates around and supporting them while they were riveted in place. In portions of the ship over the engine rooms, this process could not begin until powerful cranes lifted in the machinery. Engines the size of small houses were hoisted, swung across, and lowered into the bowels of the ship to rest on specially prepared mountings. Generators, electrical boards, cooling and exhaust fans, fireboxes, boilers, condensers, steam turbines, and massive gear boxes – all had to be installed, hooked up, and seen to fit properly before the decks above them could be plated over. While the heavy machinery was dealt with, other parts of the hull received electrical leeds, plumbing, and forced-draft ventilation ducts. HMS Agincourt started life as the Brazilian battleship Rio de Janeiro. She had been contracted with Britain’s Armstrong-Whitworth shipyards as part of a small South American naval arms race between Brazil and Argentina. Keen to make an impression on their Argentine rivals, the Brazilians had insisted their battleship should be especially impressive – and indeed it was. Rio de Janiero would mount 12 inch guns in twin turrets – just as their Argentine rivals – but they insisted on fourteen guns to the Argentine’s twelve. British builders did not think in terms of triple turrets, since the Royal Navy did not trust them. So Rio de Janiero would have her fourteen guns arranged in seven twin turrets – a record that still stands. The keel was laid down in mid-September, 1911, with great ceremony, but world economics soon took a hand in affairs. Without warning, Brazil’s booming rubber industry took a nose-dive and her lucrative trade in coffee fell off dramatically. In a matter of months, Brazil’s finances were in chaos, and the government put Rio de Janiero up for sale in October, 1913. She was purchased by the Ottoman Empire for 2.75 million Pounds and renamed Sultan Osman I. World War I broke out in the middle of her sea trials, prior to delivery, and the British Admiralty wasted no time in exercising a clause in the builders contract. The vessel was seized, literally, under the noses of the Turkish captain and crew that had come to fetch her home. She was accepted into the Royal Navy and the First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchill, bestowed one of his favorite names – Agincourt – of Henry V fame. Having served dutifully, if not heroically, with the Grand Fleet for the duration of the war, Agincourt was eventually sold for scrap in 1922 under the terms of the Washington Naval Treaty. Off the port side, with a steam tug lashed outboard, is “Marine WHV 4” – a barge-mounted floating crane of 100 tons capacity. The steam crane has been shunted into position to assist in removing the roof of Agincourt’s “Wednesday” turret in preparation for lifting out one of the 12 inch rifles while the elevating mechanism is adjusted. (Yes – the battleship’s turrets were named for the days of the week.) The barge and crane were skillfully custom made by the talented @AP who very kindly offered his services to lend a bit of realism to this “CJ”. The model was patterned after just such a floating crane that operated out of the Philadelphia Navy Yard for many years before succumbing to extreme old age. SULTAN OSMAN I AT ARMSTRONG’S FITTING-OUT DOCK, CIRCA 1914. Up until the close of the 19th Century, heavy loads had been lifted using “sheerlegs” – a cumbersome tripod arrangement with two legs forward and a third leg to the rear, attached to a slide, powered by a steam winch. Winching the forelegs “back” brought the load closer to the dock. Letting the winch “out” moved the load in the opposite direction. This simple system had worked for centuries, but it had no lateral motion. If you wanted a load placed a hundred feet to the right or left, you had to move the entire warship! Around 1900, “cantilever cranes” were developed that could hoist, “rack” (to move the load “in” or “out” along the jibe arm), and rotate. These were built of steel girders and operated by a system of steam powered generators running powerful electric motors. The model pictured above has been meticulously assembled – girder by girder – by @AP. The crane is a perfect model of the giant cantilever cranes found in every major shipyard worthy of the name. This 350 ton (capacity) monster is hoisting a gun house and upper assembly aboard for installation. The “base beds” for Agincourt’s main armament barbettes weighed nearly 200 tons apiece. The model is taken from the famous “Titan” crane (see first picture) still on view at John Brown Shipyards, Glasgow, Scotland. It is worth pointing out that the Imperial Dockyard is equipped with two such cranes. I took “liberties” with that point – mainly because I like the model. Not all shipyards could afford a cantilever crane of such size at a price upwards of 80,000 Pounds. And those that could – only purchased one – for installation at the Fitting-Out Basin. Unfortunately for me (since I REALLY like the model), I will follow the “historical script” and there will be no more than two large cantilever cranes in Wilhelmshaven. Here, dockside, you can see two of “AP’s” 100 ton steam cranes (rigged for steam) with the one on the left undergoing a bit of repair and maintenance. There is a welding gang working at the rear while another crew forges a new retaining bracket up front. In the middle you see a detail of Imperial sailors smoothing the rough spots on three brass propellers while a trio of nearby officers supervise. The cranes, maintenance crew, propellers, and Imperial sailors are all crafted by “AP”. This shot shows a 100 ton crane hoisting a 12 inch gun tube across to be installed in one of the gun houses. (You do have to use your imagination – just a bit.) On the dock, a detail of sailors is wiping and oiling the gun tubes before installation, while a second detail is removing the shipping brackets and installing a breech block. Right next to them some dock workers are repairing an old anchor chain prior to applying a fresh coat of gray paint. At the center bottom, you can even see a fresh Navy detail reporting for duty. In time-honored naval tradition, one of the sailors straddles a huge gun tube while oiling it down. ALL are courtesy of the multi-talented “AP”. Here is yet another dockside "vignette" created by "AP" for your enjoyment. Amid the hustle and bustle on the quayside, a detail of Imperial sailors and dockyard workers are busy preforming maintenance and repair duties on a number of winches. After they are overhauled, the winches will be temporarily installed on the ship's deck to assist with hoisting and positioning the heavy steel plates required to complete the superstructure. This shows the “controlled chaos” dockside. Fitting-Out required hundreds of different materials and “fittings”. Steel girders for added structural strength; pipes to carry steam, water, and hydraulic fluids; timber to shore up working spaces until plates could be riveted; boxes and crates full of machined valves, and storage containers filled with thousands of assorted “fittings”. “Fittings” is a quaint builder’s term used to cover everything from cabin doorknobs to ladders, and watertight doors for bulkheads. Here, the rail line has been run right out to span the fitting-out dock, and two heavily laden locomotives are discharging their freight. The immense amount of material came in all shapes, weights, and sizes, and the heaviest loads were, of necessity, delivered by rail. With the “fittings” installed, and “finish” work checked, workmen go through the ship from stem to stern, sweeping, wiping, and painting. The last thing to come aboard are crates and crates of furniture – chairs, desks, wardrobe lockers, bunks for petty officers and above, and hammocks for the seamen. The only thing remaining was for the crew to come aboard and unpack their duffle bags. But one important element has been left out – the sole reason for the ship to exist – the Main Battery guns. KMS BISMARCK TURRET MACHINERY CONFIGURATION In Chapter 5 we discussed how the big rifled guns were made and the turrets (gun houses) assembled. Now we must explore how they were installed. When the fore and aft superstructures have risen far enough to reach the level of any superimposed gun positions, the barbette armor and interior workings must be installed in the round openings left in the decks. The holes go through several interior decks and all the way to the bottom of the ship – possibly as much as 60 feet. The 200 ton barbette base is lowered down to the bottom and fitted into a steel frame that prevents it from moving about. The thick plate will disperse the immense weight of the armored barbette, the inner workings of the gun mounts, and the turret itself. Pre-shaped curving plates as much as 16 inches thick will then be lowered into the well and riveted together to form a protective armored cylinder that will rise all the way to the bottom of the gun turret. The First Level -- (bottom) inside the barbette cylinder is the Shell Working Chamber, with the bottom end of the shell hoist. On the same level outside the barbette armor, but accessible through flash-proof scuttles, are the Shell Rooms. The Second Level – above and inside the barbette, is the Powder Handling Chamber which, through another set of flashproof scuttles, has access to the Powder Magazines located outside the armored barbette. Inside the barbette, the enclosed shell and powder hoists will be installed in the center of the chamber, angling up toward the loading breech of the big guns. These hoists feed ammunition to the massive rifles at the rate of two rounds per minute. The Third Level – supports machinery to run the hoists. The Fourth Level -- is the Turret Working Chamber, with machinery to train the “gun house” (turret) and elevate the heavy gun tubes. (In the inset diagram at top left, you can see the shell hoists rising in the center with an angled powder hoist to either side.) The Fifth Level – (the circular, ribbed, steel collar) supports the turntable – a finely machined, circular roller path upon which the gun house rests and rotates. This level is also the lower floor of the gun house, and provides space for the gun breeches to descend when the barrels are elevated. The Sixth Level – on top of the barbette, is the gun house. The walls, floor, and interior of the gun turret will be assembled (see Chapter 5), piece by piece, from armor plate of varying thickness (some face plates as much as 14 inches). Each gun may be seated inside it’s own compartment, separated from the others by a flash/splinter resistant wall. The entire arrangement, from gun house to shell working chamber, required approximately 80 men to operate – per gun turret – not including magazine personnel. It should be mentioned that not all main gun systems were alike. The specific number of “levels” and the arrangement of magazines, shell rooms, and hoists differed from navy to navy – as did the handling and safety precautions. When all is prepared, the cantilever crane will hoist the massive gun tubes (perhaps 120 tons) and seat them in their cradles. At this point, the turret elevating and training systems will be hooked up and tested for smooth operation. When everything has been checked, double checked, and inspected – the turret roof will be hoisted aboard and riveted in place. The final step before delivering the battleship to the government involves a variety of tests and inspections – and --“Sea Trials”. The ship is readied for sea in all respects – with specified amounts of fuel and “stores” taken aboard to meet agreed upon displacement “trial” weight. A party of naval officers board the vessel to oversee the trials, and the ship puts to sea. Trials may last several hours, or several hours spread over several days, or up to a week of continuous steaming. Ships are usually tested for (1) sea keeping qualities, (2) maximum speed and duration, (3) helm response, (4) turning circle radius, (5) fuel consumption at various speeds over time, (6) stopping distance – and probably an entire checklist of other things. The guns may or may not be exercised at a nearby firing range. When all trials have been successfully passed, the senior naval officer present will officially accept the ship from the builder. The battleship will then proceed to a Naval Dockyard to receive additional “sensitive” equipment – such as special optical rangefinders and gunnery control systems and equipment. Though not exactly “State Secrets”, these items were rarely entrusted to private building yards and even the crew that manned them were often unfamiliar with the mechanical computers they operated. In later years, “Top Secret” radar systems would only be installed in government yards. A period sketch of an Arethusa Class light cruiser under the "Titan" cantilever crane. As always --- MY ETERNAL THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for such beautiful warships. AND MY SPECIAL THANKS TO @AP for his generous offer of assistance – patience in working out “bugs” – imaginative contributions to content – and, most of all, his cheerful dedication to making it all happen. It is much appreciated, my friend. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! NEXT TIME…...The Refit Basin.- 9 Comments
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- 17
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- battleships
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CHAPTER 17 -- INTERMISSION -- ODDS & ENDS
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 17: INTERMISSION – ODDS & ENDS This is a classically dramatic view of the pristine KM Admiral Graf Spee in 1937, only months after completing her sea trials and being commissioned into the “new” German Navy (Kriegsmarine). She was just the third new ship to join the Kriegsmarine since the end of the “Great War”. As allowed under the terms of the Treaty of Versailles, she was a replacement for the aging pre-dreadnought battleship Braunschweig. She was also the third ship in the Deutschland Class of cruisers. Why replace a battleship with a cruiser? The Versailles Treaty only allowed Germany to replace her worn out, pre-World War battleships with vessels of no more than 10,000 tons displacement – thereby forcing Germany to build “heavy cruisers”. But these were no mere cruisers. Deutschland (1933), Admiral Scheer (1934), and Admiral Graf Spee (1936), were nominally 10,000 tons – but only at minimum load. The German design bureau had done their best to create a viable warship within the tonnage limits, but simply could not formulate a design that could contest the sea lanes still ruled by the Royal Navy. So the next best option was simple – cheat. When the specifications were released to the Press and the Treaty Commission, the displacement was reported as a few hundred tons over the limit – an acceptable accident. But in truth, all three cruisers were to weigh-in at or above 16,000 tons when fully combat loaded – double the displacement of the average “Treaty Cruiser”. Another set of reported specifications were equally shocking – especially to the British. The entire class was equipped with a single rudder, two shaft system with large, three-bladed propellers. They were powered by four sets of 9-cylinder, double-acting, two-stroke, MAN diesel engines. Though the all-diesel propulsion was a radical innovation, it was something the German navy had been trying to pull off for twenty-five years. In addition to a massive weight savings, the diesels averaged an economic cruising range of 10,200 miles at 12 knots. The sleek “9 to 1” length-to-width ratio promoted an average speed of 28 knots, with Graf Spee actually achieving 29.5 knots in sea trials. This surprising turn of speed – and great operating radius – came as a rude awakening to Britain. The bulk of the Royal Navy battleline could not achieve 25 knots. In fact, only three old British battlecruisers were capable of running the “Deutschlands” to ground (Hood, Renown, and Repulse). The frightening truth for the “Island Nation” was that the German Oberkommando Marine, when forced by “The Treaty” to build cruisers, had turned to the French Jeune Ecole theory – commerce raiding. The final ugly truth that “nailed the coffin lid shut”, was the armament. All three “Deutschlands” were armed with a main battery of excellent 11 inch SK-C/28 guns. Six in two triple turrets on the centreline, one fore and one aft. The turrets were designed with a maximum elevation of 40 degrees, allowing an extreme range of 39,890 yards. Their secondary armament consisted of eight 5.9 inch guns in single shield mountings arranged on either beam amidships. At the very stern there were eight 21 inch torpedo tubes in twin external mounts. In effect, the Germans had taken Adm. Jackie Fisher’s “battlecruiser concept” to the extreme and aimed it at the heart of England’s commercial sea lanes. The “Deutschland Class” were instantly labeled “Pocket Battleships” by the British Press and with very good reason. They might not be able to stand against the 15 inch guns of a British battleship – but they could easily outrun them. And though British cruisers were fast enough to catch them, the “Deutschlands” could destroy them with the biggest cruiser armament in the world – long-ranged 11 inch guns. They could, literally, run away from anything big enough to kill them – and kill anything fast enough to catch them. Makes you wonder what went wrong off the River Plate in 1939, doesn’t it? When last we saw them, the three-ship squadron was anchored off the South Mole after returning from a “Goodwill Tour” of the Mediterranean – with special emphasis on impressing their Italian allies. Wrapping up a precise and showy performance for Mussolini and his admirals, the squadron sailed for home, with brief stops at Toulon and Gibralter to duly impress the French and English. Arriving in The Jade after an ostentatious transit of the English Channel, they were directed to lay-to off the South Mole to avoid the congestion in the dockyard. The Port Admiral immediately dispatched lighters with fresh fruits, vegetables, and much-sought meats – along with bad news. The VizeAdmiral commanding the squadron had requested immediate dry-docking of his ships so the massive diesels could be overhauled after their long voyage – but his request was denied. Unfortunately, no docks or basins would be available for at least a fortnight, maybe longer. Shortly thereafter, a tanker came out to preform a “ship-to-ship” replenishment. The fuel oil bunkers would be filled – but engines would have to wait. SS Ohio has eased in between Admiral Scheer and Admiral Graf Spee, made fast, and begun passing fuel oil to both ships. The process could take several hours since the warships will require as much as 2,000 tons each. The Texaco Oil Company SS Ohio was a large tanker for her day – 9,625 tons, capable of carrying 10,000 tons of fuel oil. Equipped with Westinghouse steam turbines, she could make 16 knots at full load and was considered among the fastest of her kind. And she will forever be remembered for her epic battle to run fuel through to the Island of Malta in 1942. The convoy, code-named “Operation Pedestal”, was under near constant attack for four days and the Axis threw everything they had at it – German U-Boats, Italian submarines, Italian bombers, German Stukas, E-Boats, and even Italian Motor Torpedo Boats. Though heavily damaged, with her back broken and her hull open to the sea, Ohio stubbornly refused to sink. Late on the fourth day, with destroyers lashed on either beam and harbor tugs from Malta leading the tow, she crept up the main channel to safe anchorage in Grand Harbor Valletta. Ohio was received by a joyous crowd of thousands of Maltese men and women cheering and waving as a brass band belted out “Rule Britannia”. When the tanker made fast at the dock, and her engines were shut down, it was for the last time. The crippled Ohio never sailed again. But to this day, she is fondly remembered in Malta, and still considered the saviour of the beleaguered island. Here you see a close-up picture showing the magnificent detailing on the tanker’s deck. The derrick posts, pumping controls, deck houses, product hatches, transfer pipes – even the catwalk across the midships deck – are all portrayed on the model. The texturing and weathering accurately depict what a busy, working, oil tanker might look like – scuffed and stained decks, dingy white paintwork, a worn and weathered waterline, and rust streaks along the hull. @Barroco Hispano model is not only a superb work of realism, but of Art. Resting at the dock, above, is the USS Erie – the name ship of a class of gunboats built for the US Navy between 1934 and 1936. With a displacement of only 2,000 tons, a speed of 20 knots, and an 8,000 mile radius, they were a relatively inexpensive, but extremely versatile warship. Only 328 feet long with a draft of not quite 15 feet, they were small and very maneuverable. Their main battery consisted of four 6 inch MK 17 guns, mounted two fore and two aft in open-backed shields, with ten lighter guns devoted to anti-aircraft defense. On the fantail were two racks holding a total of 30 depth charges. Originally designed for peacetime duties, the Erie Class was intended to be used in a variety of roles – fleet duties screening against destroyers and submarines, anti-submarine warfare, support for destroyer attacks, anti-aircraft support, high-speed mine laying, and even amphibious landing support. Their 6 inch main battery even made them viable convoy protection against commerce raiders. But their most famous role was in the execution of “gunboat diplomacy”. Their presence in the bays and harbors of politically volatile Central and South American countries could have a “calming effect” on excitable politicians. And their shallow draft was ideal for use in the rivers and estuaries of Far Eastern countries where American missionaries and business interests often required assistance. These three Erie Class are lucky – they have been assigned as port security for Wilhelmshaven. They patrol the harbor entrances, stopping inbound freighters and verifying their papers, or looking for suspicious craft that might be loitering in restricted zones. They can also be dispatched on rescue missions as needed. They are trim and efficient. Their layout has no wasted space, while everything necessary for their role has been squeezed into a compact, but spacious, superstructure amidships. A careful examination will show many interesting details. The crews of Erie Class gunboats assigned to the Far East Station sometimes spent long months, virtually isolated, far up navigable Chinese rivers. They were foreigners in a foreign land. But they learned to interact with the peoples of the host nation and often felt “at home” among them. Depending upon the disciplinary standards of a gunboat Captain (often a Lieutenant), Chinese Nationals might be employed aboard as “informal” crew members. Some were trained as engineers and mechanics for the engine room, while others were used for general maintenance – scrapping and painting rust, etc, etc. In some instances, regular seamen were allowed to employ “servants” – cooks, laundrymen, and even “house boys”. This might sound condescending to our 21st Century ears – but a hundred years ago this was not uncommon, nor was it demeaning. It allowed the local people to make money to feed, clothe, and house their families. It was an honest day’s wage for an honest day’s work – and it made the “Yankee Sailors” more welcome in the community. For the Abel Seaman, it made life easy and “good”. Duty in the “China Gunboats” was often envied as a “cushy billet, and when seamen were eventually transferred back to the “deep water” Navy – they were thought of as a sharp and resourceful breed known as “China Hands”. The “lighter” pulling alongside is the Dutch motor vessel “MV Rian” – indicative of the hundreds of small freighting vessels that plied the waters of the English Channel and the North Sea in those days. Their small size and light draft was ideally suited to working the shallow harbors along the Belgian and Dutch coasts as well as navigating the sand banks and channels of the Frisian Islands and The Jade. Yet again --- MY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for such beautiful warships. I know he puts in long hours producing these fine models – most especially his superb texture and weathering – but I know all of you enjoy the magnificent results as much as I do. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! INTERMISSION We will be taking a break for several weeks. I’m not sure if it will be two weeks or four weeks, or possibly more. But it will only be a “break”. WE WILL RETURN – SOON! The reason for the break is actually a happy one. @AP (The King of the Wind Turbines) has kindly offered his extensive “batting” skills to fulfill some of my many needs, cherished wishes, and even dreams. He has devoted much of his time to providing a variety of props and lots that will fill some gaps, add a much higher degree of realism, and put some life into the dockyards. I CANNOT THANK HIM ENOUGH FOR HIS PATIENCE AND GENEROSITY OF SPIRIT !! This sudden “bounty” is so interesting and original that it should not have to wait for a new edition to the series – it belongs in Wilhelmshaven. Consequently, over the next several weeks, I will be busy re-lotting, redesigning, re-shooting pics, and re-writing the last four chapters in the series. NEXT TIME…...(whenever that might be)…...The Fitting-Out Basin.- 9 Comments
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- 11
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- pocket battleships
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CHAPTER 14 -- THE TORPEDO BOATS
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 14: Torpedo Boats The warship pictured above is an “A Class” coastal torpedo boat of the Kaiserliche Marine. Built between 1914 and 1918, they were small, shallow draft ships designed to operate out of occupied ports along Belgium’s Flanders coast. British big-gun “Monitors” (up to 18 inch) continually harassed the German Army’s flank by standing just offshore and lobbing monster shells into their positions. These coastal torpedo boats were designed to counter just such activity. Though smaller than their ocean-going cousins, they could make 28 knots, carried two 88mm guns, a single 18 inch torpedo tube, and are indicative of the torpedo boat genre. Long and thin, they were built for speed, and their low freeboard and minimal superstructure provided little to shoot at. The raised forecastle deck, forward of a rather “Spartan” bridge, had a pronounced flare above the waterline to throw waves away from the boat rather than take them over the deck. Taken as a whole, the concept of the torpedo boat had evolved into an inexpensive and efficient ship-killer. EARLY FRENCH TORPEDO BOAT circa 1880. Note the two cylindrical torpedo tubes protruding from the hull on either side of the bow. In 1890, when Alfred Thayer Mahan published his “Influence Of Seapower Upon History”, it was a seminal event. The book fired the imaginations of such World leaders as Theodore Roosevelt and Wilhelm II, and was received favorably by serving professionals like the Royal Navy’s Jackie Fisher. The book’s content rode the swelling tide born of the “Industrial Revolution” and it’s effect on modern warship design. Mahan’s theories provided both a valid excuse and the perfect vehicle for a nation to pursue “naval supremacy”. But Mahan did not “invent the wheel”, nor did he “re-invent” the wheel – he simply shined a light on the subject and put out a big “welcome mat”. DUTCH TORPEDO BOAT 1886. Note the open caps of the bow torpedo tubes, the conning position with searchlight on top, and twin stacks for the coal-fired steam engines. Britain, last invaded by sea in 1066, had long enjoyed the benefits of an island nation. No particular spot in England was very far from the sea, and the English were, almost by nature, a seafaring people. With the epic “Defeat of the Spanish Armada” in 1588 – they became a seapower to be reckoned with. Roughly two hundred years of on-and-off struggle with France developed the Royal Navy into a force of over three hundred wooden battleships that truly “ruled the waves”. Though challenged by the Dutch (mid 17th Century) and French, these nations were never able to topple British naval dominance. EXPERIMENTAL TORPEDO BOAT 1883 – carried aboard Brazilian ironclad Riachuelo as part of her armament. Note “notch” in stem for torpedo tube. By 1820, many French officers and naval theorists had concluded they could never match Britain’s preponderance of shipyards and enormous capacity to launch wooden battleships. Nor could a Loire Valley farmer be turned into a seaman to match the likes of England’s “Jack Tar”. But a small group of young and progressive officers continued to seek ways in which France might achieve parity. Thus, was born the Jeune Ecole school of thought. SMS S-90 circa 1910 – torpedo boats grew larger and more heavily armed with each new class. This “Young School” (Jeune Ecole) advocated the use of numerous, small, heavily armed vessels to fight enemy ships-of-the-line, while commerce raiders would cripple the trade of the rival nation. The first serious advance of this strategy came in the 1820’s, when General Henri Paixhans invented explosive shell guns for warships. (See Battle of Sinop for first use.) He advocated the powerful guns for small steam warships that, working in “packs”, could easily destroy much larger wooden battleships. Though the tactical theory was sound, and Paixhans’ guns were, indeed, lethal – there was no further advance in the “David versus Goliath” concept – while the introduction of the ironclad warship (La Gloire – 1859) made it somewhat less of “a sure thing”. But rapidly advancing science tipped the scales yet again. TORPEDO BOAT 142 1897 – Note the “turtle-back” design and the single bow torpedo tube, but no guns. In 1864, an obscure Austro-Hungarian naval officer, Giovanni Luppis, approached an equally obscure English engineer, Robert Whitehead, running a small factory in Rijeka (modern Croatia). Luppis provided rough drawings of a crude, floating, explosive device propelled and maneuvered by ropes handled from shore. Luppis’ idea was entirely impractical, but an intrigued Whitehead tinkered with the idea and had, by 1866, produced the self-propelled “Whitehead Torpedo”. (Not to be confused with fixed explosive devices, towed devices, floating mines, spar torpedoes, or even land mines – which were all, at one time or another, referred to as “torpedoes”.) To “cut to the chase” – by 1900, the navies of the world had embraced the weapon and added submarines, torpedo boats, and torpedo-boat-destroyers to carry them into battle. A MIXED BAG of moored German torpedo boats, circa 1911 – some “S Class”, a “T Class”, and even one “G Class”. Note the side-by-side mooring technique. In the Imperial Dockyards Wilhelmshaven, space was at a premium by the time torpedo boats had become a necessary adjunct to the battle fleet. But “necessity is the Mother of invention” – so small “nests” of torpedo boats were squeezed into improvised mooring facilities in the harbor. This “nest” hosts ten “G Class” boats of the 2nd Torpedo Boat Flotilla, commanded by Fregattenkapitan Schuur. The Fregattenkapitan will have to make do with cramped quarters for the time being. A new harbor under construction on the east Jade shore will accommodate the hundred or more torpedo boats and destroyers of the Hochsee Fleet. Based on the concept of “temporary” mooring arrangements for a recently assimilated warship type, I opted for a “base” that looked like it had been thrown together in a couple of weeks. The boats are moored by the bow to the pier with a stern anchor out to prevent “swinging”. In reality, they would have been moored side-by-side, tightly, with fenders between ships to prevent “rubbing”. (Commonly known as “nesting”.) But “game mechanics” prevented that. On shore, port engineers knocked out several Quonset huts for the small crews, and an office / living quarters for the Fregattenkapitan. Messing and other living arrangements would have, of necessity, been quite impromptu. The pier is from the “Nob – 1905 Series”. The Quonset huts are from the PEG “Army Base Series”. And the “office” is a re-purposed “SFBT” railroad signal box. The G-Class torpedo boats were all built at the Krupp Germaniawerft shipyard in Kiel under contract to Argentina. But wartime needs prevailed, and in 1915, the boats were commissioned into the Kaiserliche Marine as “destroyers”. Their physical characteristics, armament, and design put them firmly in the “torpedo boat” category – but the Imperial Navy of that day made no distinction between the two types. The ships were 270 feet long with a beam of only 27 feet, which gave them a length to breadth ratio of 10-1. This hull ratio was ideal to obtain the highest possible speed for the designed ship-horsepower. Two steam turbines drove twin propellers at 33 knots. This view (above) clearly shows how extremely narrow the boats were, and the utilitarian nature of the design. One 88mm guns is mounted at the bow, another at the stern, and a third amidships – all without protective shields. Just behind the forecastle break, a single 21 inch torpedo tube is mounted on either beam, while two twin torpedo tubes are mounted on centreline, abaft the third funnel. The fact that there are only three small guns is clear indication that the sole purpose of the “torpedo boat” was to deliver torpedoes to the target. Manning torpedo boats might well have been considered a “suicide mission”. There was precious little cover on their decks, even less armor protection in their hulls – and by virtue of their “mission statement” – anything they were sent to attack would be much bigger, far better protected, and armed to the teeth with a secondary battery of “QF” 6 inch guns. In the picture below, you see the torpedo crew manning a single tube mount. A crank system was used to rotate and aim the tube, while the men would “push” on the piece to speed up the process. The “gunner” (bent over at rear) would judge the angle of the shot, then pull a lever, launching the torpedo from the tube with a charge of compressed air. Boats designed to carry “reloads” were rare, so one or two torpedoes might be fired in a single attack, saving the rest for later. Torpedo Tube Crew It is worth noting that a single 6 inch shell hit could disable a torpedo boat (historically, the shells tended to land in the machinery spaces), while a second hit would likely sink it. On the other side of the coin, the average dreadnought carried a broadside 6 inch battery of between six and eight guns – each capable of firing eight rounds per minute. But sometime around 1909, Admirals lost faith in this “hail of fire” defense and felt their precious dreadnoughts threatened. The logical answer seemed to be more torpedo boats, but with more and heavier guns, to fight off the enemy torpedo boats. Hence, the “torpedo boat destroyer” was born. The Great War strained economies the world over, and having two such similar ship types seemed wasteful. Between the World Wars, the little torpedo boat fell from favor to be replaced by the bigger, faster, and more heavily armed destroyer that we know today. The tactical employment of the torpedo boat flotillas was fairly straight-forward. The sailing formation of the Hochsee Fleet was usually a line-ahead column for each battle squadron, with three squadrons steaming abreast. Torpedo boat flotillas were deployed on the flanks, front, and rear of the formation to “screen” against submarine attack. 299_Torpedo Boat screening flank of Heligoland Class Bsttleships of 1st Battle Squadron. When the advance scouting group (1st Scouting Group) located the enemy, the Admiral Commanding would order the fleet to deploy into battle formation – usually a single column, line-ahead. The torpedo boats automatically fell back and took up station along the disengaged side of the battle line. This shielded them, somewhat, from the fire of the enemy fleet while keeping them handy to respond to an enemy torpedo boat attack, or to launch their own attack. 300_Torpedo Boat in battle on disengaged side of Konig Class battleship. Note the great clouds of smoke and difficulty in spotting the enemy. Torpedo Boats were used much like “cavalry” on 19th Century battlefields. If the enemy launched a torpedo attack, you threw your own torpedo boats out to blunt it. If an enemy ship became isolated, torpedo boats might be sent to sink it. If the pressure on the battle line became uncomfortable, an Admiral could order a torpedo attack to distract the enemy, throw off their aim, and break up their formation. If the battle was going badly, an Admiral might choose to disengage and would send torpedo boats to distract the enemy yet again. Torpedo boats were very versatile – and obviously, considered expendable. 301_Torpedo Boats cutting the line between Nassau Class dreadnoughts of the 1st Battle Squadron. When ordered to attack, the Kapitanleutnants would ring for full speed, put the helm “hard over”, and cut through the gaps between the shielding dreadnoughts of their own battle line, form-up, and race toward the enemy line. Often, they were accompanied by a light cruiser (their Flotilla Leader) which would attempt to draw fire off the small boats while getting in range to launch torpedoes as well. HMS UNDAUNTED AND FOUR DESTROYERS ATTACKING DURING THE BATTLE OFF TEXEL 1914. All of these “seemingly” clear tactics were being carried out in the face of (possibly) some 64 lumbering dreadnoughts blasting out great clouds of gunsmoke and belching blankets of funnel smoke from engines operating at maximum speed. The sky would be quite dark and the constant thunder of gunfire would shake your very bones and pound at your ears. Meanwhile, there are now more than a hundred torpedo boats and their “mother hen” cruisers engaged in a high-speed swirling, slashing melee between the two fleets – fought at close quarters with the desperation of a knife fight in a darkened alley. Suddenly, small groups of torpedo boats break through and race the last few hundred yards to get into firing position – all the while smothered by shell splashes and dodging near misses from the hail of shells fired by the battleship’s secondary batteries. GERMAN TORPEDO CREW READY TO FIRE. With the torpedoes gone, the boats execute a sharp turn-away and race to get out of range – twisting and turning to avoid the deadly shells. Some torpedoes might hit a target, some might miss, but the torpedo boat crews rarely knew the outcome. They were too busy staying alive and afloat. And that was just one encounter on what might be a long day of battle. At Jutland, in 1916, it was, indeed, a long day of battle. After the final “battle-turn-away” of the day, the Hochsee Fleet fumbled around in the failing light, trying to avoid the British Fleet and set a course SE by south for Horns Reef and home. The British also set a course for Horns Reef in hopes of bringing the Germans to battle before they could reach Wilhelmshaven. With, literally, hundreds of warships scattered about – some lost and disoriented – two fleets making for the same spot on the chart would inevitably lead to a night full of terrifying chance encounters. In the early pre-dawn darkness on June 1st, the cruiser HMS Faulknor was leading several divisions of destroyers when a line of German battleships appeared out of the night. The Germans were expecting to see their own torpedo boats and only two ships opened fire on them – and only briefly. Faulknor circled her small force around in the darkness and approached from ahead of the German ships so that they would pass on opposite courses. About 03:00, the German battleships began to turn away and the British, reluctant to miss an opportunity – fired twelve torpedoes. Ten minutes later, they reached the German line. There were only two hits. It is generally agreed that two torpedoes fired by HMS Onslaught struck SMS Pommern amidships. The torpedoes probably set off one of the 7 inch magazines, which started a lightning-fast chain of explosions. In mere seconds, flames engulfed the ship and rose mast high before a final massive explosion broke the ship in half. Large pieces of debris hurtled through the air as the two pieces of the ship capsized, floated briefly, then went under. Pommern was one of the Deutschland Class pre-dreadnoughts comprising the 2nd Battle Squadron, and she took all 839 of her crew with her. That is the clearest demonstration of the terrible power possessed by the tiny torpedo boats. MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his superb warship models. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! NEXT WEEK…...Marshy Point.- 7 Comments
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CHAPTER 13 -- SHORE BILLETING
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 13: Shore Billeting The phrase “shore billet” is common maritime parlance – “shore” referring to land, while “billet” can mean either a place of lodging, or a “job” or “duty”. If an officer transfers from a warship to administrative duties ashore – then he could be said to have secured a “comfy shore billet”. If the same officer is assigned a room in the “Bachelor Officers Quarters”, his room could also be called his billet. For our purposes, “billet” will refer to on-shore living arrangements for crews of the Kaiserliche Marine. Pictured above is a “1000 Mann Kaserne” (barracks) built on the Wilhelmshaven base prior to The Great War. Not much has been written about these buildings in English texts, but it can be assumed there was a “mess hall” in part of the basement or ground floor, with other small areas designated for building administrative purposes. Beyond that, it was merely a gigantic barracks house – a “no frills” hotel. Some are still in use today. The picture below is a period postcard of the same “kaserne” showing a detachment of armed sailors. With “Gunboat Diplomacy” being what it was during the “Colonial Period”, it paid to train sailors in close-order drill, and the use of small arms, machine-guns, and light artillery. Often, a warship was the only show of force that could respond if the natives got restless. The postcard, in itself, is a matter of some interest. When young Wilhelm II ascended the Imperial Throne, having read Alfred Thayer Mahan’s “The Influence Of Sea Power Upon History” – he decided he must have a great navy. Being King of Prussia (as well as German Kaiser) he already had the finest army in Europe. (The joke circulating in diplomatic circles was...”Most kingdoms have an army – but the Prussian Army has it’s own kingdom!”) And Wilhelm being Wilhelm, insisted His navy must be superior to that of “Uncle Bertie” (England’s Edward VII). In 1887, Wilhelm met Korvettenkapitan Alfred Tirpitz who shared the Kaiser’s admiration of Mahan. One thing led to another, and by 1896 Tirpitz had been promoted and given the post of Secretary of the Imperial Navy. Tirpitz, backed by the Throne, began the quest for a navy that would become the second largest in the world. As in most nations, it was not easy to get battleship money out of the Reichstag. After all, what did a farmer in Silesia care about a battleship? So a massive public relations campaign was undertaken to change hearts and minds. Among the tactics employed, was the formation of a “Navy League”. (Much like a college “Alumni Booster Club”.) These naval “fan clubs” sprang up all over Germany and among the perks handed out to members were these postcards. They bore pictures of various warships, Naval personalities, and dockyard scenes. The cards could also be purchased at newsstands and tobacconists and were collected and traded much like today’s “Baseball Cards”. Even the British saw the value of boosting public support and similar cards were included with the purchase of a pack of “Players Cigarettes”. This photo of HMS Iron Duke was used in that series. But information about the buildings is scarce. Aerial photographs (rare in those days) yield little data. And after more than a hundred years, and extensive WW II bombing, it is almost impossible to determine where the buildings were located or how they were laid out. But with 37 major warships and numerous smaller craft home-ported in Wilhelmshaven, they were key to the operation of the fleet. The various barracks would have housed upwards of 50,000 men when the warships were at anchor. Unlike other navies, German sailors did not “live” in their ships. When at sea the men lived a “sailor’s life” and the only room they could call their own was big enough to swing a hammock. Even the big ships were dimly lit, cramped, often damp and frequently “wet”, with poor ventilation. Messing arrangements aboard ship had changed little from the days of Nelson and hygiene was a matter best left to the imagination. Geography mandated they would largely operate in the North Sea – notorious for fog, wind, squalls, and eternally choppy seas. The only way to maintain any sort of good morale was to billet the crews ashore when not on active operations. Lacking any solid information, and working in an already crowded map tile – I chose to represent this vital aspect of the fleet / harbor with a specific set of piers and a “rough” barracks arrangement. Behind the warship piers, the barracks buildings are laid out on three sides of a rectangle with a “parade” area. The closest thing I could find to a German Naval Barracks was the “Union Club - Sydney” by @mattb325. Though much smaller than the kaserne, the lot is attractive with architecture reminiscent of the period, and has a “utilitarian – military” feel. Obviously, I could not accommodate 50,000 men, so I built a billeting area sufficient to illustrate the concept. In this close-up, you can see water towers placed for water supply and fire prevention. The small office, center bottom, is occupied by “support staff” assigned to the facility. They would be responsible for ordering supplies, equipment, bedding, laundry services, and victuals. The formations on the parade represent a large “ship’s company” as well as smaller formations for “divisions” and “sections”. Occupying the center of the parade is the “Administration Building”, re-purposed from the “Bathing Pavillion” by @mattb325. It is very similar to buildings still found on many of the surviving German Army “Kasernes” (bases). Germans are well known for their administrative talents and would most certainly have had a “billeting officer”, complete with staff and clerical support. The building also provides an “open mess” for the officers of the various ships. Next to the flagpole is a statue of the Navy’s “patron saint” – Wilhelm II. On the left side of the parade, you see two ship’s companies mustered and a small supply warehouse. Usually, when the fleet was at anchor, one of the old pre-dreadnoughts would act as a guard ship off the mouth of the Jade – with accompanying cruisers acting as outlaying scouts. Just offshore of Wilhelmshaven would be a “half-battle-squadron” (four battleships) with steam up as a “response force” should the guard ship require help. This “response” duty would be rotated among the fleet. The remainder of the fleet would be tied up at various mooring points with their crews assigned to barracks. The men would rise early, tidy barracks, breakfast, and march to their ships to relieve the “night harbor watch” before beginning their daily shipboard duties. At the end of the day, the crews returned to barracks, had their evening meal, and tended to more personal duties. Some of the men might be allowed a few days leave to go home, while others might be granted overnight “liberty” for a brief run in Wilhelmshaven town. The piers were re-lotted from the PEG “SNM Destroyer Piers” and have been dressed-out with various buildings and props. Left to right -- HMS Iron Duke, Benbow, Monarch, Thunderer, and USS Idaho. HMS Iron Duke was named in honor of Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington – famously referred to as “The Iron Duke”. She joined the fleet in 1914 and became the “Fleet Flagship” of Adm. John Jellicoe in August of that year. Iron Duke was the name ship, and lead ship, of a class of four dreadnoughts – Benbow, Marlborough, and Emperor of India – which were remarkably similar in appearance to the previous King George V and Orion Classes. To her right is one of her classmates, HMS Benbow (Admiral John Benbow, 1653 – 1702). You may notice a difference between the picture shown earlier and the model in this picture. The picture shows Iron Duke with two thin funnels abaft the bridge – as she appeared during her career. The model shows Iron Duke with a single large funnel as she would have appeared after a planned 1929 modernization. In the end, treaty obligations would require her retirement in 1931, so the modernization was never carried out. Iron Duke was armed with the standard MK V, 13.5 inch, 45 caliber gun – ten of them in twin, centreline turrets – two superfiring forward, two superfiring aft, and one amidships. The aircraft catapult on the midships turret was actually installed after WW I. You can see the compact nature of the forward superstructure, in sharp contrast to earlier British battleships with complicated, sprawling deck houses. This class had an enlarged topmast structure designed to hold sighting and ranging equipment as well as gunnery control devices. Note the large optical rangefinder mounted at the rear of “A” turret. Almost every warship has an “aft control position” in the rear superstructure. Should the command center on the ship’s bridge (forward superstructure) be destroyed or become uninhabitable (fire), control can be switched to the aft position and the battle continued. On top of the aft superstructure, you will note yet another large rangefinder – this one wired into the ship’s gunnery control system. The two large rangefinders at the rear of the after turrets would be used in “local control mode” if the master system malfunctioned or became disabled. The curious structure hanging off the ship’s stern is the “Admiral’s Walk” – a quaint fixture dating to the Age of Sail. In Nelson’s day, exceptionally large three-decked ships-of-the-line (rare in number) were built with a “stern walk” (balcony) attached to the ornately carved stern. This “stern walk” went along with a spacious suite of cabins – one for sleeping and another that doubled as a “day cabin” and dinning room. These “posh” quarters were invariably inhabited by an admiral commanding a fleet, or possibly a squadron commodore. In this case, John Jellicoe, Admiral Commanding the Grand Fleet, could pace his stern walk in privacy rather than cause a commotion on the main deck. The small hatch near the gun muzzles led down to a companionway and the door to his suite. The four rectangular objects nearer the fantail are skylights opening over his cabins. Another controversial aspect of shore billeting has been argued by friend and foe, and historians alike, and the root cause of the argument comes down to one simple qualifier – size. HMS Dreadnought (above) ushered in the ”Dreadnought Era”, and mounting ten 12” guns on an 18,120 ton hull, put her top of the “A List” predators. She was a big ship, but she had to be big. Britain possessed the largest colonial empire on Earth and the Royal Navy protected colonies and guarded sea lanes in all the misbegotten corners of the world. British warships had to be big enough and strong enough to withstand Hurricanes and Typhoons. They had to pack enough firepower to meet whatever foe they might encounter, with thick armor belts to ensure survival. Their engines had to be tough and reliable to go places where dry docks did not exist and salvage tugs were scarce. And they had to carry thousands of tons of coal to operate where coaling stations were few and far between. But they also had to feed and house up to a 1,500 man crew – because “Jack Tar” lived aboard his ship. It had been that way since the days of Drake and Hawkins. It was said a man might come aboard as a cabin boy of ten or twelve years and never set foot on land again. Royal Navy captains routinely anchored far enough offshore to discourage would-be deserters from “making a swim for it”. So British warship design had to strike a delicate balance between sea-keeping, heavy guns, massive engines, thick protective armor, large coal bunkers, and room enough to berth the crew. Bigger guns meant less weight for armor. Bigger ships meant more surface area requiring armor. It was a balance rarely achieved. SMS Deutschland (above) was among the last class of pre-dreadnoughts delivered to the Kaiserliche Marine. But by the time she was commissioned (1906), Dreadnought had already made her obsolete. After a mad scramble, Adm. Tirpitz and the naval design office produced a dreadnought design to compete with the British – the Westfalen Class. Dreadnought and Westfalen were of roughly equal displacement and length. Westfalen was slightly wider in beam, but 2 knots slower, and she had two more guns, but only 11 inch. It would, a first glance, seem that Westfalen was out-classed – but she had subtle advantages that were not immediately apparent. Germany had few overseas colonial possessions, and her potential enemies were close at hand – Russia, France, and Great Britain. Consequently, she only had to deploy battle squadrons to the English Channel, North Sea, and Baltic Sea. German ships did not need to store huge amounts of coal to cover long distances, nor did they require excessive freeboard to keep the seas in the stormy Atlantic or vast Pacific. Though the crew spaces were cramped, the battlefleet was never expected to be at sea for more than a few days, so – as in decades past – the crews were housed in barracks ashore. Two simple factors – time and distance – allowed for smaller ships with lower target profiles. Painted the proper color, these ships might “disappear” into the North Sea haze. Cutting crew spaces to the bare minimum reduced the weight of steel necessary for a larger ship with better living quarters, and the savings could be put to better uses. German capital ships all tended to be a bit wider in the beam, and this made for a more stable gun platform as well as allowing for better underwater protection. Coal bunkers could be strategically placed to absorb battle damage that might otherwise cripple the ship. German ships were almost excessively sub-divided into smaller compartments, resulting in less flooding from battle damage, while shells tended to explode against outer bulkheads without reaching the heart of the ship. And the weight saved with a smaller ship could be applied to more armor plate over a wider area of the hull. So size, enabled by shore billeting and nearby combat zones, provided a considerable advantage. The Battle of Jutland, as a whole, proved that Imperial German capital ships were capable of sustaining massive amounts of damage while remaining in the fight. SMS Baden, the last battleship delivered to the Kaiserliche marine, was surrendered in January, 1919, and survived “The Great Scuttle” in June of that year. The British towed her to Invergordon and investigated the ship from top to bottom, examining armor, underwater protection, watertight bulkheads, and the speed and ease of working the main armament. Later they would use her as a gunnery target to test their shells against the German’s best armor arrangement. Their expert, Commander W.M. Phipps Hornby, pronounced...”considered as a fighting machine, Baden was markedly in advance of any comparable ship of the Royal Navy". If any further proof of superior design is needed, KM Bismarck’s armor scheme is a direct scale-up from Baden. And we all know it was nearly impossible to sink her. I cannot say it often enough -- MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his detailed, and beautifully textured warship models. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! NEXT WEEK…...Torpedo Boats.- 2 Comments
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CHAPTER 12 -- THE COMMERCIAL PIER
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 12: THE COMMERCIAL PIER Like all naval bases, the Imperial Dockyards Wilhelmshaven must have a pier to receive commercial deliveries by civilian shipping. These two tramp steamers from the 1930’s are indicative of the dingy freighters carrying mundane cargo along the thousands of miles of sea lanes between Shanghai and San Francisco or Colombo and Bristol. Nondescript, rusty, and slow, they were not as flashy as the “Great Liners” of their day, nor did they display the dash and daring of the mighty warships. But they hauled the goods to feed nations, the smelting ore for roaring blast furnaces, and the manufactured goods that were the staples of the World’s economy. One of the chief reasons for the existence of powerful battle fleets was to protect these ugly ducklings and the vital commerce of nations. Located in the “Center Loch”, the cargo pier originally consisted of a small, somewhat shabby, wooden structure with a steam powered crane. As time went by, and the Hochsee Fleet grew in numbers, it became necessary to construct a more modern facility to meet the needs of the ships and the sailors that manned them. The small pier was rebuilt and extended, and large container cranes installed to handle the new type of freight. A smaller bulk-break cargo pier was built beside it, specifically to handle non-containerized goods. The Maxis seaport was far too “vanilla” for realism, and the PEG seaports were decidedly “un-military” – so I set to work to see what could be done. Using the PEG Container Seaport as a starting point, I first built a single 20x7 lot that included both piers and the handling yards. But, for some unknown reason, the game refused to recognize this lot as a seaport and insisted in sending freight trains off the map. I cut the project down to a single container pier on a 12x7 lot and tried again. This time, something worked and trains were accepted by the pier. I then tried re-lotting the PEG “Vandy Shipping”, but plopping that one broke the rail link and the game refused to send trains. Consequently, I tried the “Vandy” lot without modification – and that worked – but only for through traffic. So the trains will not stop in the Vandy lot, but will run through and be accepted by the container lot. For anyone who has tried working with the PEG seaports, you have my admiration for the degree of patience you posses! The old PEG container dock was lengthened by two squares and WMP Seawalls installed around the edges to provide wooden “bumpers” for docking. The PEG container cranes were removed and replaced with far more realistic NBVC Cranes. The ship was replaced with a better looking PEG “timed prop”. I completely re-worked the handling yard behind the cranes with more realistic container props and trucks and generally organized it rather than scattering stuff all over the place. The bulk of the lots and props are from NBVC’s container port kit. They are VERY useful, as well as remarkably flexible and easy to use. @tariely did me a huge favor by “traffic-enabling” the new rail lines and vehicle gates. The rail line comes in east of the cargo area, loops around in a “horseshoe”, runs through just behind the piers, and continues off the map to the west. In this shot, you can see one of the ships has “disappeared” – the “timed-prop” creates the impression of ship traffic coming and going. Across the road is a storage / handling area for incoming freight. This provides a temporary storage point until the proper warehouse or supply team can pick it up. This was composed from a huge collection of 1x1 custom lots I have made for use in seaports and industrial zones. The modular nature of 1x1 lots gives the area a slightly jumbled look and helps to avoid repetition. Note the Tugboat Station in the upper left. This one is located to assist shipping at the cargo piers as well as the coal receiving piers. Steam tugs courtesy of @WolfZe. Off the south end of the peninsula, the USS Alaska and USS Guam have been anchored in a “temporary berth”. Normally assigned to the 1st Scouting Group of the Hochsee Fleet, they have been ordered to the main anchorage for installation of improved rangefinders and fire control equipment. When one of the refit or repair basins opens up, they will be moved in. The two-ship Alaska Class was launched in 1943 and named after US Territories rather than states or cities, because they were neither battleships nor cruisers. At launch they carried the designation of “battlecruiser” and were the only two ships in the history of the US Navy to do so. However, as they neared commissioning, their role was reconsidered. Since there was no major German surface fleet to fight, and the Imperial Japanese Navy had been considerably reduced in strength, the chance of the Alaska’s participating in a set-piece fleet engagement was practically zero. Pre-war, they had been conceived as a counter to the German “pocketbattleships” of the Admiral Graff Spee Class, and later it was thought they might be effective against the “super-cruisers” rumored to be building in Japan. But eventually, the Pacific war turned against Japan and the new US battlecruisers found themselves without specific targets. Being practical, the Navy canceled the remaining four ships of the class, and reclassified the two finished units as “large cruisers”. After many studies. the final design was based on a scaled-up version of the Baltimore Class heavy cruisers – and they were, indeed, “large cruisers”. At 808 feet, they were longer than many battleships. With a beam of only 91 feet, they appeared inordinately long and thin. In keeping with a battlecruiser’s reputation for speed, the ships were equipped with eight boilers driving steam turbines with reduction gearing turning four shafts. This was the same equipment installed in the Essex Class carriers and the Alaska’s were capable of up to 33 knots. With a cruising range of 12,000 nautical miles, these ships could have been deadly commerce raiders – but by the time they joined the fleet, the Japanese had no commerce left to raid. Heavy cruisers of the era were equipped with 8 inch main battery guns, mainly due to the constraints of disarmament treaties between the wars. But Alaska and Guam, originally conceived as battlecruisers, were equipped with the newly developed 12 inch 50 caliber Mark VIII rifles – making them the most heavily armed cruisers in the world. The Mark VIII could throw a 1,140 pound shell out to 38,500 yards at a rate of 3 rounds per minute. And the quality of this superior weapon was equal to or slightly better than any of the pre-war 14” gun battleships. The nine guns were arranged in triple-mount turrets – two superimposed forward, and one aft – making this ship a true “cruiser-killer”. Even Alaska’s armor arrangement was, by comparison, exceptional. The class devoted 28.4% of total tonnage to protective armor. The old HMS Invincible had 19.9%, while the HMS King George V (1940), USS Iowa, and HMS Hood were only rated around 32%. Though scant underwater protection left them vulnerable to torpedoes, mines, and shells falling short enough to hit the hull below the waterline – for a 30,000 ton ship, the Alaska Class showed a remarkable balance between speed, protection, and firepower. By the time of The Great War, swarms of “torpedo boats” (about 140 present at Jutland) had become a deadly menace to the lumbering leviathans of the battle line. The small, fast, ships could twist and turn at high speed, avoiding the defensive fire of the battleships, while rushing in close enough to launch their lethal load of torpedoes. As time went on, the various navies developed the “torpedo-boat-destroyer” – an equally small and fast ship designed to repel enemy torpedo boats with quick-firing guns – usually 4 inch, 4.7 inch, or 5 inch weapons. As “torpedo-boat-destroyers” became bigger and more heavily armed, the name was shortened into what we now know as the “destroyer”. Eventually, they would carry their own torpedo armament alongside the guns and the simple torpedo boat fell out of favor. By the WW II era, destroyers had become a jack-of-all-trades. They screened battle groups from submarine attack or attack by other destroyers, launched their own torpedo attacks, laid smoke screens, and became the primary practitioner of anti-submarine warfare in two World Wars. Off the east side of the peninsula two sets of mooring points are occupied by Fregattenkapitan Schuur’s 2nd Destroyer Flotilla. They are but one of the nine flotillas assigned to escort and protect the Hochsee Fleet during time of war. The flotilla is composed of ten boats of the USS Fletcher Class, named after Admiral Frank F. Fletcher. With 175 ships, the Fletcher’s were the largest class of destroyers ever built for the US Navy. During WW II they would be seen in all theaters of war engaging in every imaginable duty. The ships were a significant improvement over previous classes with a lethal increase in firepower, numerous anti-aircraft weapons, and more armor plating than their predecessors. Destroyers were often referred to as the “Greyhounds of the sea”, and the flush decked, two stack construction of the Fletcher’s gave them a sleek and swift appearance, while their top speed of 36.5 knots fully lived up to the image. Built between March, 1941, and February, 1945 – the Fletcher Class was the first generation of destroyers laid down after the abrogation of the naval arms treaties of the 1930’s. During that time, the Navy planners had come to realize that Japan would be their chief antagonist in any future war. The new destroyers were built large at 2,000 tons and nearly 400 feet in length, with double-bottoms to store the fuel oil necessary for a 5,500 mile cruising range in the vast expanses of the Pacific. To counter the known Japanese destroyer types, the Fletcher Class was designed with a ship-killing punch. Five dual purpose 5 inch / 38 caliber QF guns in single turrets were mounted two forward, one amidships, and two more aft – all on centreline. These MK XII guns could fire 15 rounds per minute – effectively “smothering” a target. Grouped fore and aft of the second stack were two centreline quintuple 21 inch torpedo mounts. The fantail carried two racks for depth charges and six K-Gun depth charge “throwers” were arrayed on either beam for anti-submarine work. The men who manned these ships were often referred to as “Tin-Can Sailors” because the joke going around the Fleet was that the armor on destroyers was so thin it could be opened up with a can opener! But the Fletcher’s were deemed an unqualified success and were popular with their crews. If you want to know just a little about “courage in the face of the enemy” – you might want to “Wiki” the “Battle Off Samar” – and perhaps, even read a book about that battle. The “Tin-Can Sailors” lived by a creed...”I wish to have nothing to do with a ship that does not sail fast – for I intend to take her in Harm’s way.” – John Paul Jones In the previous chapter, I mentioned the searchlights that were considered basic equipment on dreadnoughts of the Hochsee Fleet, and how they were used in battle. I was lucky enough to find an oil painting illustrating a real incident of night fighting. HMS Black Prince was an armored cruiser assigned to a scouting group of the British Grand Fleet in the May 31 – 1 June, 1916, engagement at Jutland. During the chaos of battle, the cruisers found themselves trapped between the two mighty lines of battleships and careened about trying to avoid falling shells while dashing in and out of thick clouds of funnel smoke and banks of gunsmoke. Some time around 17:00 (GMT), Black Prince became separated from her squadron mates, and in the gathering darkness, was unsure of her position – or that of the enemy. Just after 23:30 hours, Black Prince encountered and briefly engaged SMS Nassau, one of the battleships in the van of the Hochsee Fleet returning to base. The cruiser scored two hits with 6 inch shells before dodging back into the night. Turning back to her original course, Black Prince unknowingly approached the German battle line yet again. As black shapes and luminescent bow waves appeared ahead, the British helm went hard-over – but it was too late. SMS Thuringen snapped on her searchlights, fixed Black Prince in their glare, and opened fire. SMS Nassau, Ostfriesland, and Friedrich der Grosse quickly joined in. With the range of the various ships being between 750 to 1,500 yards – this was point-blank – flat trajectory fire for the German’s 11 inch and 12 inch guns. Forty-five seconds later, it was clear Black Prince was finished. The Germans ceased fire, switched off their searchlights, and were once more hidden in night’s protective cloak. The flaming, listing wreck of the armored cruiser had been hit with a minimum of 12 heavy caliber shells and numerous 6 inch shells from the battleship’s secondary batteries. Within 15 minutes, she had gone down with all hands. MY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his beautifully done warship models – and to @mattb325 for his “Offshore Mooring Pontoons”. Their talents are ALWAYS appreciated. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! NEXT WEEK…...Shore Billeting.- 7 Comments
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CHAPTER 11 -- THE COAL HANDLING PLANT
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 11: THE COAL HANDLING PLANT The first two decades of the 20th Century saw both the heyday of the coal-fired warship and it’s decline. The first steam powered ships (usually small riverine or coastal craft) used crude, wood-fired boilers and immediately encountered the inherent difficulties of storing sufficient firewood. Coal proved somewhat easier to store, and more useful, in that the energy to weight ratio was much better. But soon after the turn of the century, the discovery of “oil-fuel” eliminated the back-breaking labor of handling coal, the filth and grime that came with it, and the clouds of smoke that obscured gunnery targets and gave away a warship’s position. Ton for ton, oil generated far more horsepower and was immensely easier to handle and store. In 1911 the US Navy placed an experimental oil-fired propulsion plant aboard the USS Nevada, and the British did likewise in 1915, with the Queen Elizabeth Class fast battleships. The Kaiserliche Marine, always eager to keep up with prospective opponents, was also experimenting with combination oil-fired/coal burning propulsion plants. By the 1920’s, even merchant shipping lines had recognized the economy of oil-fired cargo vessels. But during the era of the Pre-Dreadnought and Dreadnought battleships – coal was King. Rather than get “down among the weeds” of a very complicated process – let’s keep it simple. In early steam powered ships, a “boiler” consisted of a “firebox” beneath a large, iron cylinder containing water. As the fire heated the water, it produced steam that was piped into a system of pistons and crankshafts – similar to the ordinary “internal combustion engine”. Later, steam powered “turbines” were introduced (much like modern jet engines). Through experimentation, it was determined that running water through various sized “water tubes” inside the cylinder would produce more steam, more efficiently (hence large-tubed or small-tubed boilers). But the key to the concept was the “firebox” beneath the “boiler”. Early on, the firebox had a simple raised grate upon which the fire was built. This allowed ash (wood or coal) to drop to the bottom of the firebox. This ensured the fire would burn in a constant manner without interference from ash or noncombustible residue. During long hours of continuous steaming, or periods of high speed, the ash and residue would have to be raked from beneath the grate to prevent build-up. The ash was to be expected, but the “residue” was another matter. Coal, either “soft” or “hard”, varied widely in quality and could produce more – or less – energy and smoke. Depending upon where coal was obtained, it could contain a high or low percentage of “residue” (often called “Klinkers”). This residue might be simple earth scooped up by steam shovels, or bits of rock surrounding the underground coal seam that was inadvertently mixed in during the mining process. It was not uncommon to find chunks of timber (from storage bins), nuts and bolts from broken handling machinery, or even complete shovels! Anything other than coal, that found its’ way into a firebox, could cause serious damage. And excessive “residue build-up” might easily hamper the firing process and result in shutting down a boiler – reducing the ship’s speed. God help the Captain forced to haul out of the “Line of Battle” in the face of the enemy! In 1810, the German mining engineer Ernst Friedrich Wilhelm Lindig devised a solution to the problem – The Coal Handling Preparation plant – or, more commonly, the coal washing plant. As commercial shipments of coal arrive at the Coaling Station, the “washing plant”, literally, washes out soil, removes rock and foreign “residue”, and crushes the coal into a predetermined size. The coal is then “stockpiled” or “loaded out” for immediate use. This process removes all waste material, thereby ensuring the safe operation of the ship’s boilers and reserving limited bunker space for actual “fuel”. As mentioned in an earlier Chapter, the coaling docks are spaced around the south and west edges of the complex, while the “Fleet Coal Reserve” occupies the lower third of the compound. The “Reserve” provides a “surge” capacity for extremely heavy use periods as well as preventing any service interruptions due to mining or railroad strikes (not uncommon in the early 1900’s). Above the “Reserve” area is the handling – or washing – plant, the water reservoirs, and water purification plant. Above that, is the “receiving yard” for commercial deliveries – with receiving docks to the right. Though the harbor has been laid out in a fairly “spacious” manner, it can be seen that it is a crowded and busy place. I was fortunate in having the “Alkaline Inc. Northwest Coal Washer” lot in the game. It would have been nearly impossible to piece together anything even remotely similar from “lots & props”, and it is a key element in the coal supply chain. Coal is “received” from the upper end of the lot and moved into the processing building via a “conveyor-bridge”. I re-purposed the @Simmer2 pipeline bridge to act as my elevated conveyor bridge. The elevated structure “tacked onto” the end of the “Alkaline Washer” building is from the “Hardun Mine” lot and is an extension of the elevated conveyor system. The “washer” building processes the coal and discards the “residue” into the slag-pit at the rear, while the processed coal is “row-stacked” in the yard to be loaded into “hoppers” or trucked to the “Fleet Reserve”. Large amounts of water are used during the processing and is drawn from the lower two reservoirs. Contaminated water is piped to the purification plant, processed, and returned to the upper two reservoirs for recycling. Water reservoirs courtesy of @Simmer2. Here you see two trains on the siding beneath the “loading hoppers”. The first train is actually loading coal, while the second train waits in line. I believe the loading hoppers are by @Simmer2. This is my custom water treatment plant – complete with spare pipe stocks, bags of treatment chemicals, heavy equipment for repairs to pipes, and mixing towers to “pre-treat” the contaminated water. The plant is an amalgamation of Maxis lots and bits and pieces from the "prop box". Here is a close-up of the “attached” elevated conveyor structures borrowed from the “Hardun Mine” lot. The neatly stacked coal piles are from the Polish Power Plant lot (which I believe @Tyberius06 will have back in the game pretty soon). The upper end of the complex is occupied by the “Receiving Yard” where all commercial deliveries arrive. You will note the train at the top about to dump several cars down the “Coal Tip”. The small building on the right is the terminus of the conveyor system delivering coal from the “receiving docks”. The bulldozers and bucket cranes are busy moving the mounds of coal toward the conveyor system that will carry it into the “washing” plant This is the receiving point for all seaborne commercial coal deliveries. Two harbor steam tugs by @WolfZe are nudging a “Somy” bulk haul ship into the dock to discharge cargo. The tow-boat ahead, has brought her cargo downriver and across the sheltered waters of the Jade Bight. Massive amounts of coal are required to fill the bunkers of the fleet and it comes from every corner of the nation. The unloading docks are by “Somy” as well, and this is the first time I have ever been able to use this “detached dock” lot with any degree of confidence that it has been used properly. Quite frankly, I’m still not sure I have used it properly. But the conveyor system at the end carries the coal across the road and the railway tracks and deposits it inside the receiving yard – and that was the object. Above the actual Coaling Complex is the railyard tasked with storing, servicing, and repairing the vast fleet of rolling stock required to operate the plant. Loaded coal trains can either enter the “collier” loop and dump their cargo into the receiving yard, or they can be parked here until needed. Empty cars also “park” here until the railroad authority moves them to a marshaling yard off base. On the front end of the yard you see three engine houses where regularly scheduled maintenance can be preformed. Two shuttle engines have just been pulled out and are preparing to return to work. Just above is a coaling and water stop, with a siding for temporary repairs. Above the “terminal” yard are two engines checking in with the dispatch offices. And just to the left is an engine leaving the “repair and overhaul” shed adjacent to the forge workshop. The steam engines are by PEG, as well as the water stop, repair shops, and foundry. I think – the Engine houses are by @Simmer2 and the rail sidings are his, as well – modified to hold coal gondolas. Meanwhile, off the southeastern tip of the Coaling Station, we find the ships of the 1st Battle Squadron, commanded by Vizeadmiral Ehrhard Schmidt, berthed at the offshore mooring points. The four battleships of the Helgoland Class make up one half of the squadron. The other half, the four Westfalen Class ships, are otherwise occupied with coaling or repair work. Offshore mooring points courtesy of @mattb325. Having rushed the Westfalen Class through construction to keep pace with the British, it was decided this class would make the jump from an 11 inch gun to the 12 inch 50 caliber gun. While the range remained about the same, the heavier shell would prove slightly superior in bursting strength to that of the British 12 inch Mark XII gun. The placement of the main gun turrets followed the pattern of the Westfalen Class, but the hull was somewhat longer, and with an additional four feet of beam, the wing turret magazines could be placed farther inboard – allowing better armor protection. As in the Westfalen Class, steam turbines were considered, but rejected because they could not be supplied in time to meet the launch schedule. The internal layout of the ships was arranged in such a manner as to group all of the boilers together, allowing better spacing of the wing turret magazines. This, in turn, resulted in all three stacks being grouped amidships, well clear of the foremast and bridge and the aft control position. The low profile gave the ships a “sturdy” look, easily distinguished from others by the triple stacks. SMS Helgoland and her sister ships – Oldenburg, Thuringen, and Ostfriesland – were built with a bank of eight powerful searchlights grouped evenly on tower arrangements near the foremast and after mast. The Kaiserliche Marine, much like the Imperial Japanese Navy of WW II, were well-trained in night-fighting. Once a possible enemy target was detected in the pitch-black darkness, all guns would be trained on the suspected target – and the searchlights would be switched on. A split-send identification of the target resulted in a blazing fusillade of medium and large caliber shells. Within thirty seconds, the target was sunk or badly mauled, the lights switched off, and the German warship cloaked in darkness once more. I can think of nothing more bewildering than being on the receiving end of such a blinding and deadly barrage. More than once, this tactic proved fatal to the hapless target. The lighter coming alongside Ostfriesland is the “MV Rian” – model provided by @WolfZe with color and texturing kindly supplied by @Barroco Hispano. SMS Ostfriesland was ceded to the United States as reparations under the Versailles Treaty. Used as a target for naval gunfire and the new concept of aerial bombing, she earned the nickname “unsinkable”. Finally, in a famous “dive-bombing” demonstration by Col. Billy Mitchell, she was struck by six 1,000 kilo bombs, and went down off Cape Henry, Virginia, on 21 July, 1921. Just as a matter of reference, the “Offshore Mooring Points” (Courtesy of @mattb325) in my harbors are taken directly from the mooring points used by the US Navy at Pearl Harbor. The waters close inshore of Ford Island were relatively shallow – the harbor itself is only 40 feet at the deepest point. Rather than go to great expense dredging a deep channel along the island and building enormously expensive quays, the Navy opted for quick and cheap mooring points. And I finally found a picture to illustrate them. This is an artist’s rendition of the USS Arizona making fast to her mooring point (quite possibly for the last time). Note the harbor tug easing her into position, while members of the “Anchor Detail”, atop the mooring point, secure the various hawsers. There is also a ship’s boat standing by to rescue anyone that slips and ends up in the “drink”. As always --- MANY, MANY, MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his intricately detailed, and beautifully textured warship models. Without his “gifted talents” and spirit of generosity, this on-going project would never have been attempted. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! NEXT WEEK…...The Commercial Pier.- 7 Comments
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CHAPTER 09 -- THE COALING COMPLEX
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 09: THE COALING COMPLEX By the mid-19th Century, the three-decked Ship-Of-The-Line so artfully handled by Admiral Lord Nelson, had ruled the world’s oceans for nearly 300 years with very little technological change. Had Sir Frances Drake been pipped aboard HMS Victory he would have been amazed – but would have known how to use the ship. That’s because Victory, though bigger, more heavily armed, and more modern, was little changed from the premise of Drake’s Golden Hind. The Industrial Revolution of the early 1800’s began to change all that. Science and technology had harnessed steam power to run factories, and soon thereafter, steam locomotives. It was inevitable that some “bright young feller” would figure out how to propel ships with steam engines. For centuries, empires had been won or lost for want of “a fair wind”. Steam powered ships would be able to sail in any direction, regardless of wind, and much faster. USS Demologos was the first warship to be propelled by a steam engine. Commissioned in 1815, she was hailed as quite an accomplishment, but her slow speed and unreliable engines relegated her to duty in New York Harbor as a floating battery. But it was a “beginning”. The outbreak of the Crimean War in 1854 saw a combined French and British fleet of three-decked Ships-Of-The-Line gathered off Sevastopol – accompanied by paddle-wheeled steam tugs to make them more tactically mobile. But both Britain and France had been experimenting with “steam” Ships-Of-The-Line for more than five years by then. The British, reluctant to give up their place as THE first rank naval power, began converting suitable “three-deckers” to steam-assisted warships while retaining their full sailing rig. This was a rather parsimonious attempt to keep their numerical superiority while saving the cost of new, scratch-built ships. The French, on the other hand, realized old three-deckers, fitted with steam engines, would still retain their bluff bows and bulbous underwater lines – reducing their speed. Instead, they built a new class of three-deckers designed around steam engines with underwater lines better suited to speed. Launched in 1850, Napoleon (90 guns), name ship of the class, became the first purpose-built steam battleship in the world – the first true steam battleship – and the first screw propelled battleship. Nelson’s Victory could make all of four knots with a “fair wind” in her sails. Napoleon, under sail and steam, could maintain 14 knots. From that day forward, the navies of the world were committed to “steam” – and the COAL that made it possible. The French had done away with any thought of half-measures. And with Britain and France being “colonial powers”, they relied upon their naval forces to protect and police their colonies as well as the sea lanes leading to and from them. Now, a nation’s “seapower” could only be projected as far as the supply of coal in a ship’s bunkers would allow. And the freedom of action of every Admiral or ship’s Captain was limited by the distance to his next coaling stop. So the race to secure strategically located colonies began in earnest. Any nation with the slightest pretense of being a world naval power had to establish colonies along the major sea lanes within easy steaming distance of one another. By stopping at each coaling station in turn, you could – theoretically – sail a fleet from Portsmouth, England to Shanghai, China. (Case in point; the deployment of the Russian Baltic Fleet to Chinese waters in 1905 – and the 1907 round-the-world cruise of the Great White Fleet.) And so began the love-hate relationship between battleships, their crews, and coal. This view of the High Seas Fleet steaming in column toward the horizon is, indeed, a majestic sight. The power and might of these smoke-belching behemoths is quite obvious. What is not so obvious, is the vast amount of back-breaking labor that went into producing those voluminous clouds of smoke. Deep inside the bowels of the battleship, and located adjacent to the engine rooms, are the boiler rooms. Here, a crew of “stokers” continually fed shovelfuls of coal into the roaring fireboxes beneath the boilers. In turn, the water inside the heated boilers produced steam to run the engines or turbines turning the propellers. These stokers were often referred to as “the black gang” – because their sweat-drenched bodies were covered in a thick grime of coal dust. During a battleship’s periodic “speed trails”, several teams of stokers would be kept on stand-by to relieve exhausted men, or to replace those overcome by heat prostration. The coal is stored in chambers (called bunkers) located in such manner as to make moving coal to the furnaces as easy as possible. The arrangement of these bunkers differed somewhat from ship to ship and, more significantly, from nation to nation. In the Kaiserliche Marine, coal bunkers were arranged along the sides of the warship, usually just behind the torpedo bulkhead. In addition to the thick external armor belt, and thinner torpedo bulkhead designed to absorb blast, placing tons and tons of coal inboard provided yet another layer of protection. This practice proved quite successful in allowing warships to absorb heavy battle damage and continue to fight. When “coaling ship” was ordered, “every man Jack” would turn to and get the coal aboard as quickly as possible. Even junior officers could be required to participate in this filthy, hard labor. The coal bunkers were accessed via openings in the main deck (called scuttles). Once the scuttle plate was removed, dockside cranes, or loading chutes, would deposit piles of coal onto the deck. Men with shovels then scooped the dusty black mound into the scuttles. This dirty, dust-choking, hard labor went on for hours until several thousand tons of coal was loaded (usually 3,000 to 4,000 tons). In the picture below, the USS New Hampshire is taking on coal from a barge tied alongside. Obviously, the Brooklyn Navy Yard in 1909 did not have any sophisticated hoppers or loading towers, so the crewmen are doing it by hand. They have rigged temporary derricks to hoist canvas sacks of coal to the ship’s deck where it will be dumped, and then shoveled into the round scuttle clearly visible in the deck. In the next picture, a ship is taking on coal at Port Said in the Suez Canal Zone (circa 1920’s). Again, the coal barges are tied alongside the vessel – but the men are carrying the coal aboard. Coaling in “far distant” ports could be quite primitive. The Coaling Complex for the Imperial Dockyard: Wilhelmshaven is “state of the art” and was based on a massive US Navy coaling station in Pensacola, Florida just after the turn of the last century. I managed to find a usable picture of a slightly improved version built in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii (circa 1919). As you can see, the loading docks were built out into the water on tall trestle bridges, allowing deeper draft vessels easy access. Loaded rail cars were shuttled under the “hopper towers” where bucket conveyors raised coal to the top of the hopper. Loading chutes would then be lowered near to the ship’s deck – and the process would begin. Rail cars continued to shuttle beneath the hoppers as needed. The oval track arrangement saves enormous amounts of space, while allowing a loaded coal train to gradually climb to the level of the loading hoppers. Other track spurs provide for temporary “parking” of loaded cars, storage of coal at the rear, and switches to return empty cars to the main complex. It went without saying that it would be impossible to find a skilled “Batter” interested in such a mammoth and complicated project. Even in modules, this would require a great deal of planning and technical skill, with many opportunities for failure. Consequently, I fell back on my skills at finding existing SC4 lots and props that could be re-purposed and pieced together to build a reasonable facsimile. I already knew I would not be able to recreate the structure, but the “oval” rail concept was crucial in saving space within the dockyard. My secondary goal was to show the COMPLETE process of providing coal to ships – from start to finish. In this single complex, you can see how coal is delivered to the coaling station, unloaded, handled for processing, stored, and then distributed to warships – the whole product path. I was determined NOT to plop a pile of coal next to a ship and say...”Yeah – that’s where they get coal.” Here are four shots showing the progressive stages of construction. And this is a closer view of the overall complex. Looking north from the Munitions Complex, across the wide channel leading to the Coaling Basin, it is easy to pick out the peninsula occupied by the crowded sprawl of the Coaling Complex. The largest integrated facility in the dockyard, the Coaling Station was placed at the far end of the harbor to keep the heavy “coaling traffic” from interfering with other facilities. It also helped that the prevailing wind would blow the clouds of soot and dust away from the rest of the dockyard. The “Complex” is almost a world of its’ own. Warships coming and going, coaling docks, cranes and derricks, warehouses, huge mounds of black coal, processing plants, receiving lots, receiving docks, and a swarm of puffing steam locomotives moving tons and tons of coal. Beyond that dusty, smoking jumble of activity you can just make out a railyard dedicated to handling and repairing the fleet of engines and hundreds of pieces of rolling stock required to service the complex. But down in the Coaling Basin Channel, movement catches our eye…… SMS Viribus Unitas is under tow. Two steam tugs astern of the battleship are passing hawsers to act as “brakes”. A third steam tug stands by to assist. And the larger steam tug Goliath has already paid out her tow line in readiness to move. Goliath was brought in to provide a little extra “muscle”, since moving the battleship through the tight quarters from the far end of the basin might require some brute force “finesse”. Viribus Unitas was the name ship of a class of four Austro-Hungarian dreadnoughts. With the collapse of the Empire in 1918, she was handed over to the provisional Yugoslavian Government in October of that year. On the night of November 10th, Italians managed to get into the harbor of Pola and sink her with an explosive charge. Goliath is a bit larger than the “harbor tug” pictured off her port quarter. (Beautifully detailed and textured model provided by @Barroco Hispano.) Originally used as a sea-going salvage tug, she is from a large class built around 1907 and well able to withstand heavy seas the harbor tugs cannot. Due to advancing age, she and her sisters have been replaced by a bigger, and more powerful class of “Fleet Salvage Tugs”. But still sound and seaworthy, the “Goliaths” have been assigned to deal with a new menace to naval warfare – floating mines. Note the two “greenish”, fish-shaped objects stowed on her aft deck – those are “paravanes”. "Harbor Tug" courtesy of @WolfZe. This model is an accurate and highly detailed example of the hundreds of obscure seagoing tugs and salvage boats that worked the far and forgotten corners of the World’s seas. Their arrival amid fifty foot waves and howling winds could mean the difference between life and death and the safety of much larger ships in danger of foundering. The aging, weathered decks and the “classic” ochre and black paint scheme make this model come alive. Tucked into the corner of the Coaling Basin are the Minesweeper Docks. Goliath is the “flotilla leader” and, during time of war, they are charged with keeping the sea lanes in and out of the Jade Bight free of enemy minefields. When “sweeping” a field of mines, the tugs would usually deploy in “echelon” in an overlapping, inverted “V” formation. Those paravanes on the aft deck would be deployed and streamed on both sides of the tug. The paravanes stretched wire tow cables outboard from the ship – much like a modern sonar device. The cables snagged the anchor lines of floating, submerged mines, the paravane teeth severed them, and they came to the surface where they were destroyed by small arms fire. Needless to say, minesweeper crews received “hazard pay”. Just above the Minesweeper Station, along the west side of the Coaling Basin, are two “Offshore Mooring Points”. These are semi-permanent berthing arrangements built from thick pilings driven into the harbor bottom and capped with steel and concrete landing platforms. They are decked over and provided with night lighting to allow “anchor details” easy handling of large mooring hawsers. I believe these are unique to Pearl Harbor and can still be seen by thousands of tourists visiting the USS Arizona Memorial. MANY THANKS to @mattb325 for cheerfully fulfilling my request and releasing them to the community as “Offshore Mooring Pontoons”. The USS New York was completed in 1914 and, much like her predecessors – at 27,000 tons – tended toward the wide beam common to most US battleships. A jump to the heavier 14 inch / 45 cal gun was made, but her designers continued to experiment with the placement of the main battery turrets. It was finally decided to use a five turret, twin gun arrangement modified from the earlier Florida Class. After failed negotiations with the builder, the US Navy chose to revert to triple expansion reciprocating engines producing a speed of 21 knots. She served in both World Wars and was expended as a target in 1948. USS Texas, sister to New York, was completed as an identical twin and her service career was much the same as well. You see the ship in her 1932 configuration after a complete modernization. During WW II, Texas was part of the Bombardment Group off Omaha Beach during the D-Day Landings in Normandy. Her ten 14 inch rifles provided quick and accurate gunfire support and was much appreciated by the assault troops moving inland. German Panzers poised to counterattack the American beachhead were quickly demoralized and scattered when two-gun salvos of the huge shells began to arrive at 5 second intervals. In 1948 the State of Texas took great pride in accepting her from the US Navy for preservation as a museum ship. She still lies in a berth dredged out of the Mexican War Battlefield Memorial at San Jacinto, near Houston. At 106 years of age, Texas may well be the oldest – and possibly the only – surviving example of the “true” dreadnought battleship. Next time…...The Coaling Docks. As always --- MANY, MANY, MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his intricately detailed, and beautifully textured warship models. As a "semi-professional" naval historian, I take a great deal of pleasure in simply gazing at these beautiful models of the ships I have avidly studied for six decades. I have NEVER found any form of illustration to be as informative or pleasing as these models. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit !- 11 Comments
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CHAPTER 08 -- THE MUNITIONS PIERS
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 09: THE MUNITIONS PIERS We have toured the receiving and support facilities of the “Munitions Complex” and examined the storage area of the “Bunker Complex”, but those are, more or less, ancillary systems. The actual delivery of shells and powder to the warships is the paramount function of any munitions replenishment facility. The battleships of the “Dreadnought Era”, though immense in size and incredibly complex in their mechanics, were nothing more than mobile, seaborne, gun platforms. They were designed to deliver their massive artillery into battle – and survive. The ship’s crew, the hull, armor, and engines would position the all-important guns where they could do the most damage. That was their entire purpose for existing. HMS Barham (1915) of the Queen Elizabeth Class of fast battleships, mounting eight 15 inch guns in four twin turrets. Dreadnoughts carried anywhere between eight and fourteen main battery guns, mounted in as few as three, and as many as seven armored turrets. The guns ranged, mostly, from 11 inch (28cm) to 16 inch (40cm), and the shells fired by these massive rifles (on average) could weight anywhere from 675 pounds to 2,200 pounds. The sheer weight of the projectiles, combined with the threat of their “bursting charge”, made handling and loading them “risky business”. HMS Agincourt (1914) mounting fourteen 12 inch guns in seven twin turrets. Standards differed widely among the various navies of the world, but ammunition stowage aboard a battleship was a critical element in the success or failure of any given class of warship. The more big guns mounted on a hull – the greater the ammunition that would have to be stored in heavily armored magazines deep in the bowels of the ship. It is worth noting that “magazines” were divided into “Shell Rooms” and “Powder Magazines” due to the different handling characteristics. Powder charges were a much more hazardous proposition. Some battleship “Shell Rooms” stored 100 rounds per gun tube, while others carried up to 150 rounds. A bit of quick math means an eight-gun warship could stow between 800 and 1,000 rounds, while a fourteen-gun battleship would be packing between 1,400 and 2,100 shells. Using an average of 250 pounds of powder as a “firing charge” for each and every shell – that meant an eight-gun ship stowed 200,000 pounds of Cordite, while a fourteen-gun battleship required 525,000 pounds. Needless to say, one careless act – resulting in a single spark – could have catastrophic results. Interior of a German 11 inch gun turret in action -- right half. After throwing all those numbers around, I should explain that at a firing rate of two rounds per gun, per minute – one hour of continuous firing would exhaust, or seriously deplete a ship’s magazines. Note the shell in the foreground, about to be rammed into the gun tube, and the cased powder charges in front of the sailor to the right. SMS Konig engaging the enemy at Jutland, 1916. The munitions loading piers in the “Imperial Dockyard Wilhelmshaven” are inspired by a set of streamlined and efficient piers at the US Navy Munitions Station on Luna Point in California. That installation uses a rail line on gracefully curved trestle piers extending out into the water. Since the game pieces are incapable of reproducing those willowy curves, and the in-game trestle bridges have their own drawbacks, I opted for building causeways out to the loading pier platforms. The object, once again, was to provide safety through a degree of separation between the installations ashore and the actual handling piers offshore. An explosion while unloading the rail cars would be devastating. The loading platforms at the end of the causeways would be swept clean of people and structures and could result in heavy damage to the warships, themselves. An accident occurring during the loading of shells and powder into the ship’s magazines would be unimaginable. History is replete with horrific examples of exploding magazines. The causeways were made using the NBVC Marina Set. You may recognize the loading piers from my previous entry; “The Long Quay”. These are the same piers – and were originally re-purposed specifically for use as the munitions piers. I later decided to use them as the “long quay” as well. These are PEG “SNM” Destroyer Piers (two of them) re-lotted end to end and positioned to provide a pier 16 tiles long with ONLY an 8x1 “plop” footprint. Again – do as much as you can with what is available in the game. This is a closer shot of the bottom end of the line of piers. There is a wide variety of work in progress – tugs docking battleships, trains coming and going, cranes unloading ordnance, and sailors all over the place. Note the ordnance train arriving from the upper left corner. This worked out well with the lighting duplicating the “pool effect” common to the pitch blackness out on the water. The USS Michigan is being nudged into her berth to begin taking on ammunition. The large cranes on the pier will hoist the big shells and crates of powder charges aboard once the railroad crane has unloaded them from the waiting boxcars. The USS Wyoming is taking on her first consignment of shells. Wyoming is one of two dreadnoughts in the US Navy mounting six twin turrets – the most ever carried by a US warship. It is easily seen that the extra turrets in this design contributed to her wide-beamed appearance with very short bow and fantail tapering. Here, USS Mississippi is being eased into the pier by three steam tugs. (Tugs courtesy of @WolfZe) She is one of the New Mexico Class and was often referred to in the US Navy as a “standard battleship”. This nomenclature springs from the fact that a number of classes were designed and built during and after WW I that were remarkably similar in appearance and performance characteristics. Note that she is equipped with a graceful “clipper bow” rather than the straight stem of earlier dreadnoughts. SMS Baden has “made fast” to the pier and her Captain grows impatient waiting for his ordnance train. Baden was sister ship to SMS Bayern – the last dreadnoughts delivered to the Kaiserliche Marine prior to the 1918 Armistice. Note the fine railroad crane (SM2), also waiting the train. Shells are already being lowered to the deck of RM Kronprinz – Konig Class - 1932. This ship (explained in a previous chapter) is derived from a “design study” conducted by the Riech’s Marine of the Wiemar Republic. Note the strong resemblance to the original “Konig Class” of 1914. Last, but not least – SMS Fiederich Carl has made secure at her berth, and Kapitan Zur See Wolfgang Hoepner is furious that his ordnance train has been delayed. He is senior to the commander of Kronprinz and should not be made to wait. Friederich Carl is another warship derived from a “design study” (explained in previous chapter), this one conducted in 1940-1941 by the Kriegsmarine. Here are several views (day and night) from other angles that will help bring out the details. Finally, we have the USS South Carolina, name ship of the class, under a “short tow” as she pulls away from the munitions piers. She was put on a “short” hawser in order to move her out of the tight confines of the munitions loading area. Two steam tugs are hauling her forward, while two more aft will act as a brake. The port side tug is still paying out hawser and will drop back shortly. With only about 10 feet of water under her keel, the battleship is slow to gain momentum, slows down easily if not under tow, and answers her helm only with great difficulty. In a shallow harbor, tugs are a necessity. South Carolina was the first dreadnought battleship in the US Navy. If Congress had not delayed the 1905 Naval Appropriations Bill, she might have been the first in the world. But Britain laid down the keel of HMS Dreadnought and launched her in less than a year – two months ahead of South Carolina’s keel laying ceremony. But South Carolina was an attractive ship in her own right. All her main battery guns were on the centreline with superfiring turrets fore and aft. Her upper decks were clear of clutter and free of unnecessary structures – and even her bridge was positively spartan. The lattice-work cage masts and tall, capped funnels gave here a unique silhouette. Compact, with a 12 inch gun punch, she was a good beginning. As always, I cannot adequately express my thanks to @Barroco Hispano for making his warship models available to me. These are a wondrous piece of skill and craft – each one finely detailed, realistically colored, and textured with the genius of an “Old Master”. Even if you don’t read the text, you have surely gotten your money’s worth looking at his “works of art”. MANY THANKS! If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. And please feel free to "Follow" this thread if you find it of interest. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! Next time…...The Coaling Complex.- 4 Comments
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CHAPTER 07 -- MUNITIONS COMPLEX
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 07: MUNITIONS COMPLEX The Fleet Munitions Complex is a large, sprawling affair, specifically designed to facilitate the receiving and storage of vast amounts of powder and shells. It has been deliberately placed in the most isolated location on the naval base to minimize the effects of accidental explosions. Naval history is frequently punctuated with the sudden explosion of warships laying peacefully at anchor. One well known case is the loss of the USS Maine in Havana harbor. Sometimes it was the result of magazines located too close to coal bunkers – fires in coal bunkers were all too common among coal-burning vessels. In other instances, it was the result of aging and unstable powder in a ship’s magazine. In other situations, working parties ashore or afloat might become careless in their handling of explosives. So the only logical precaution was to isolate the munitions depot and separate the various components as widely as possible. At the bottom of the picture below, there is a railyard for the storage of empty rolling stock. Just above that is a small basin with docks to accept seaborne supplies for the depot itself; building and repair materials, daily operating supplies, and the occasional ammunition delivery – though it was deemed safer to bring in munitions by rail. Above the basin is a line of bunkers where various calibers of shell are stored. Beyond that is the railroad loading docks and through traffic rail lines. And at the north end of the compound are two large bunker complexes where the powder charges are stored. The railyard was deliberately placed between the two different bunker compounds to simplify the receiving, storage, and distribution of the materiel while providing some safety by separating the storage areas. In front of the bunker complex is a tugboat station to assist warships arriving or departing the actual “munitions piers” located at the end of causeways extending out into the harbor. This is a closer view showing the layout of the shell storage bunkers. Note the high security fencing (by PEG) and the numerous water towers to protect against the ever-present danger of fires. Inspectors were tasked with performing regular, rotating inspections to guard against deterioration of the stored shells. The row of shell storage bunkers is made up of the PEG “Small Ammunition Bunkers” from their Army Base series. The water towers are custom lots, with the tower borrowed from the old Maxis Movie Studio lot. The landscape uses custom tree filler lots and MMP work. I believe the dirt roads are from the PEG “Spam” agricultural sets, modified to make them more MMP-friendly. The munitions handling arrangements are simple and straightforward. Munitions trains enter from the left and are shunted either right or left for unloading to their respective storage bunkers – shells to the right and powder charges to the left. The same tracks can be used by switch engines to load rolling stock with munitions to be delivered out to the warship loading piers. The center track can be used to move munitions directly to a warship loading pier as needed, or empty trains can shuttle through the switches on the front end and then exit via the center track through the rear of the compound. Simple and flexible. The handling platforms are the “PEG” CDK docks, re-purposed for use on land. The trucks and cranes are custom lots. In this detail shot, the train is a traffic enabled custom lot using the PEG steam Tank Engine, modified to show “steam”. 167_Railyard Night These are the powder storage bunkers on the north side of the complex. They contain the brass-cased main propellant charges as well as the smaller, bagged fore-charges for the ship’s main battery guns. A typical powder charge for a large, QF rifle might be a 157lb main charge with an additional 53lb fore-charge. Not to belabor the point, but that’s 210lb of a highly explosive material (often cordite) to fire one shell. Storing thousands of these charges was quite hazardous, so it was decided to place them on the north side of the compound. The open expanse of water beyond them would somewhat mitigate the blast effects of an accidental explosion. This is a detail shot of the PEG “Large Ammunition Bunkers”. Note the small warehouse in the lower corner. This is where random testing would be conducted to ensure the stability and quality of the stored powder. This is the tugboat station dedicated to service the warship munitions pier extending out into the harbor. The landscape is composed of custom tree filler lots with MMP work and MMP ground cover vegetation used to the rear of the station. The piers and attached sheds are modified “Somy” lots. The small oil tanks are custom-lotted props (old Maxis ??), and the control tower is borrowed from one of the Maxis airport lots. The very fine little steam tugs are courtesy of @WolfZe. The causeways on either side lead out to the warship piers and are constructed using NBVC Marina Seawalls. The area between the bunker complex and the harbor seawalls took several attempts before the correct spacing was achieved. I used the wide “NAM 32” railroad curves to get the proper arc and connected them to the bunker complex with a complicated switching yoke of regular Maxis rail. This was mainly an “homage” to the more graceful rail system used at the US Navy Munitions Station at Point Luna, California – my chief inspiration. Studying the picture below, you will notice a distinct “thinning” of the vegetation on the north side of the bunker complex, with a virtual absence of trees to the front. This is the direct result of an accidental explosion on the center causeway some years ago. A tank engine was pushing five carloads of powder about 100 meters along the causeway when car #3 disintegrated, took another car out, and dumped the locomotive, tender, and a third car into the harbor. Two cars remained on what was left of the rails and causeway, and the engine crew was fished out of the harbor, bruised, a bit bloody, but otherwise unharmed. What had been the heavily forested area between the bunker complex and the causeway was now a flattened mass of broken and twisted timber. All three rail lines were blocked by fallen trees – some of which had been thrown into the complex, itself. Once everyone was accounted for and received medical treatment, work began immediately to restore the facility to operational readiness. A company of Deutsches Heer Railroad Construction Pioneers were called in to repair the tracks while a local battalion of Pommeranian Grenadiers were ordered in to clear the fallen timber. Ten days of round-the-clock work restored the complex to full operation, and since then, an ongoing program has been instituted to thin out the more heavily forested areas around the compound. I would like to point out that my goal in creating a massive naval base was not only to showcase the magnificent warship models of @Barroco Hispano, but to demonstrate how much could be done with the lots and props that are available to the community as a whole. Using my meager “lotting” skills, combined with some serious lateral thinking and a hefty dose of “creativity”, I have been able to fill a large-sized map with almost all of the assets you would find in a naval base. About 80% of what you see is material that has been “re-purposed” directly from existing SC4 lots and props, while the remainder of essential items had already been created by PEG and were modified for use. Moral to the story – If you think it can’t be done, then THINK AGAIN. “Nothing is written…...” The “Munitions Complex” is quite large, so there will be one more “chapter” devoted to exploring the actual loading piers. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! Next time…...The Munitions Piers.- 3 Comments
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CHAPTER 05 -- NAVAL TANK FARM
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 05: NAVAL TANK FARM At the turn of the 20th Century, an oil tanker unloading cargo into storage tanks would have been a novel sight, indeed. Not unheard of – but certainly not common. Coal was still the chief source of fuel for warships, and only the most progressive navies had begun to experiment with fuel oil. Gradually, ships were converted to carry a mixed amount of coal and oil. The flagship of the Grand Fleet, HMS Iron Duke, was designed to carry 3,250 tons of coal and 1,600 tons of oil at full load. At first, a few ship’s boilers were modified to spray fuel oil over the coal shoveled into the fire boxes. This would improve the burn rate of the coal and actually allow a warship to “raise steam for sailing” in a considerably shorter time than the all-coal warships. It could take more than four hours for an idle coal-burning battleship to raise steam to acceptable levels – so oil was a welcome improvement. Not to mention that it was easier to load and, believe it or not, much cleaner than coal with its’ sooty and invasive dust. Even so, it was 1915 before HMS Queen Elizabeth became the world’s first oil-burning battleship. (Though even then a minimal load of coal was kept aboard to run heating and cooking facilities.) This is an overview of the fuel oil handling facilities. At the bottom of the picture, you see the commercial tanker discharging its’ cargo into the three “receiving tanks”. As they are filled, the oil will then be pumped uphill – through a pipeline – to the large “tank farm” where it will be stored. To the left of the tank farm, a rail facility can also handle incoming deliveries. At the top end of the tank farm, yet another pipeline carries fuel oil down to the Navy Refueling Pier where it is pumped into the warships. This is the complete “product path” – from delivery to use. Just to the west of the tanker terminal is the South Ship Channel. Rather than the elaborate channel used in the older, crowded northern end of the harbor, this one is wide and spacious with breakwater “fenders” designed to dampen any wave action. The Tanker Terminal is as close to the harbor entrance as possible while allowing adequate room for tugs to maneuver the large tankers into the offshore discharge point. That’s Somy’s wonderful tanker, the Lilith Pleasant, under Panamanian registry. And I also used Somy’s offshore oil pier. I re-purposed the @Simmer2 oil pipeline bridge to make the connection to the offshore oil point. The receiving tanks and pipeline heading off to the east are also by SM2. Following the pipeline, the beautifully designed @Simmer2 lots climb a 15 meter hill to the storage area. Atop the hill, NBVC’s tanks and pipelines take over. I have always been partial to the somewhat "old fashioned" look of the plain, white NBVC oil tanks -- no offensive / invasive corporate logo's. I built the tank farm on an elevation so that fuel could continue to be dispensed by gravity feed if there should be a power failure. On the harbor side we have one of the busiest tug stations in the whole base. This one handles the arriving tankers, warships approaching the refueling pier, and assists with warships entering through the South Channel. I “modified” the Somy tugboat piers by removing the smaller Japanese tugs and replacing them with the superb steam tug by @WolfZe. MUCH APPRECIATED !! This is a custom “pumping control” building, or – a pumping station. You can see the single pipeline (at left) climb the hill and enter the Pump Control Building to re-emerge as the four-pipe system compatible with the NBVC oil tanks. The pumping station, itself, is a re-purposed Maxis industrial lot used to make the transition between a single pipe to a quad pipe arrangement. The simple square brick building from the pipeline set was just a bit too simple – while this one catches the eye. This is an overview of the NBVC railway oil terminal discharge. This allows the naval base to receive oil from both tankers and railway cars. Note the pipeline running from the discharge point to the “pumping station”, then up the hill to a “junction building” at the top, and on to the tank farm. Just left of the tugboat station and the railway tank car terminal is the “Navy Refueling Pier”. This overview shows the basic layout of the operation. At the top is a pipeline coming downhill from the tank farm and crossing the railway and the road via one of the SM2 pipeline bridges. The pipeline then goes into one of the “square” pumping buildings and emerges through the “offshore connector bridge”. Again, this SM2 “bridge” has been re-purposed to make the connection between the pipeline and the Somy offshore fueling point. Since there are no props in the game capable of recreating the hose and pipe rigs used to refuel warships, I opted to use the Somy / SM2 lots to solve that problem. The battleship refueling is the SMS Grosser Kurfurst – one of the Konig Class - 1932 (a Reichsmarine design study). Dating from that period, she would have been an all-oil burner. Exiting the South Channel is SMS Bayern on her way to join the target practice in progress off the mouth of the Jade. Bayern and her sistership, Baden, were the last two dreadnoughts delivered to the Kaiserliche Marine prior to the 1918 armistice. The design is sleek and efficient, with the superstructure reduced to a minimum and concentrated in a small space amidships. The effect produced a truly handsome vessel with graceful lines. At 28,000 tons with 8 x 15”/45cal guns, they were “state of the art” battleships. Laid down in response to pre-war intelligence gathered on the British Queen Elizabeth Class, they were originally planned as a four ship class – Sachsen and Wurttemberg were never finished. The Bayern’s were the first German battleships to make the jump to the larger main battery guns. The battlecruisers of the High Seas Fleet were considered (rightly) to be so "battleworthy", there seemed little need for a “fast battleship division” as in the Royal Navy. Consequently, this class could be considered a bit slow at just over 22 knots. But, when compared with the British Revenge Class, they were, in all respects equal, and in some cases – superior to their opponents. Again – MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his beautifully crafted warships. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! Next time…...The South Mole.- 8 Comments
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CHAPTER 04 -- DOCKYARD INDUSTRY
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 04: DOCKYARD INDUSTRY Any place you can berth a warship, you will find some sort of industrial plant. A small port would have only one or two sheds, and perhaps, a warehouse – while large military harbors might even have their own shipbuilding slips. But all of the major naval bases were literal hives of industrial activity. Any and every science known to mankind – from chemistry and metallurgy, to carpentry, plumbing, and even optical instruments. All of Man’s accumulated skill and knowledge was gathered together in one place for the building, maintenance, and repair of the battleship. The industrial shops of naval dockyards were jammed together in a jumbled mass, often thrown up with no particular order and no standard shape or size. Built of wood, brick, or corrugated sheet metal, they stank of damp wood, salt air, solvents, and the pervasive odor of machine oil. They were a veritable “rabbit’s warren” of smoke, and dust, and noise. When I originally set out the shoreline of the harbor, I would have preferred a large, gentle curve. But the only thing I could use to make a curved seawall would have been tetrahedrons. And no mater how carefully I placed them – and replaced them – they just didn’t look right. So I reluctantly settled for a long section of diagonal “JS Concrete Seawalls”. The diagonal section of the “East Mole” left me with a problem. The section was too long to leave empty, and diagonal lots in SC4 are few and far between – certainly no diagonal docks or large ships. So it seemed natural that the industry should be placed there. The shot below is a more detailed view of the heavy industry. Clockwise from the left; the Gun Foundry, where the inner core of the naval cannon are cast and forged. Next, the Hydraulic Press Works where the inner core is finished, wrapped, and cased. Then the Turret Assembly Shed where the guns and armored turret pieces are put together to make sure they fit properly. And the long building with the three stacks is the Gun Tube Lining Shop where the inner lining is fitted prior to rifling. The freight depot on the left is SM2’s “Global Freight”, and was necessary to generate freight train traffic. At this point it is worth looking inside the cavernous Turret Assembly Shed to see how it is done. At the back of the shop you see the beginning of the process. The heavily armored barbette ring for a turret is being assembled to provide the walls surrounding the turret workings and ammunition hoists -- and the top of which will carry the roller path for the heavy revolving gun housing. This is the “base” of the assembly. In the middle, you see a pair of 14 inch rifles already mounted inside a second barbette ring. Beneath the gun tubes, on the shop floor, you see the heavy armored pieces of the turret housing being assembled. Once they have been properly fitted to one another, they will be disassembled and then reassembled around the rifles atop the barbette ring. This is the finished assembly of the barbette ring, rifles, and armored housing for a 14 inch twin gun turret bound for use in one of the U.S. Pennsylvania Class battleships. Here, you see a British 13.5 inch twin turret already assembled. Note the thick balk timbers holding everything in place. The assembly test of the heavy guns and armored housing was often done in large pieces with minimal use of rivets or welding. Once the assembly has been inspected and approved, the whole thing is disassembled, transported to the “Fitting-Out Basin”, and installed in a ship under construction. Note the size of the men on the scaffolding to the left of the barbette. Top left, you see the Rolling Mill that produces the steel plating and thick armor belts for the warships. Next to it is the Barrel Rifling Shop where gun tubes go for grooving. And below them is the Steam Turbine Assembly shed. You will also see quite a few railroad spur lines run in to serve the various "heavy industry" lots. I tried my best to use the NAM Single Track Rail -- but it just proved to be positively unworkable ! In the pre-construction phase of this map tile, I tested each type of lot and installation to find the optimal layout design, as well as to test the size. The "smooth curve" qualities of the more advanced NAM rail was highly desirable -- but "whoofed-down" vast areas of space I simply did not have. In the end -- to get everything to fit -- I was forced (mostly) to use the old maxis Double track rail. My apologies, but the rail layout for the "Coaling Station" was critical to concept -- and could not be achieved with NAM rail. In the center is the Marine Engine Works, where Triple Expansion Engines the size of small houses are cast, machined, and assembled. The long factory building on the left is the Shaft Hammer & Assembly Works. Propeller shafts are cast here, hammer-forged, and machined. Many of these industrial lots were re-lotted from the Maxis original. They were cut down to the minimum space required for the building and “dressed out” with @T-Wrecks industrial filler lots and my own custom filler lots. The “Grunge” concrete is Paeng’s. A very few Maxis lots were allowed to grow so that freight truck traffic would be generated for the freight train depot. (Just as I am partial to “whales” (Moby) – I must have running freight trains. ) And right across the tracks from the Industrial Zone we have the “Repair Docks”. These docks are reserved for repairs that are too complicated to do at a mooring berth, but not difficult enough to require heavy lift cranes or a dry dock. The machine shop is a custom lot, while the warehouse is the PEG SNM “Small Warehouse”. Ships moored at these docks have access to their own machine shop, a fully stocked warehouse, and stores of balk timber, piping, and lubricants. A rail spur with loading docks has been run into the area to bring in specialized repair parts and machinery that may be required for certain jobs – and especially for repairs that might require large quantities of parts. Again, the loading docks are the PEG CDK Industrial piers – re-purposed for use on land. The grunge concrete is Paeng’s, and the rest of the warehouse area has been dressed-out with my custom filler lots. SMS Tegetthoff is tied up at a “standard mooring point”, or – a battleship dock. This started out as the “PEG SNM Pier One” and hosted a prop battleship that resembled a rather simplified version of the USS Missouri. I removed the battleship prop, extended the lot by two squares to a 12x2, and gave it a complete “face-lift”. There are new cargo props, containers, more trucks and jeeps, lighting, cranes, and “docking towers” at each end to coordinate the mooring process. I also added WMP Seawalls to the water side portions of the dock to act as wooden fenders to protect the dock and the warship from minor damage. (The Kaiser gets irritated when he sees scratched paint on his warships!) SMS Tegetthoff was the second of the four ship “Viribus Unitas Class” (Prinz Eugen and Szent Istvan) of Austro-Hungarian dreadnoughts. Launched in 1913 at the Trieste dockyard, she was – at 469 feet in length -- smaller than most of her contemporary cousins. But her handsome design and topside layout was compact, efficient, and produced a “streamlined” silhouette. Despite her small size, Tegetthoff packed a powerful punch with two centerline main battery turrets superimposed fore and aft. The Skoda Armaments Works then pulled off an engineering coup by designing a spacious and smoothly functioning triple-gun-turret worthy of their superb Skoda SK10 12 inch rifle. Being able to mount twelve guns in only four turrets enabled a reduced length compared to other navies with six twin turrets on a much longer hull. Tegetthoff is in for repair / replacement of the small water tubes in her dozen Yarrow boilers. Water tubes that have begun to leak, or have become clogged, will adversely effect the speed of the ship. Some of the water tubes may only need cleaning, but the Engineering Officer won’t know until the fire boxes are cold and the tubes can be removed and inspected in detail. Not a particularly complicated task – but tedious, time-consuming, and one that requires an experienced eye. On this side of the Repair Docks we find SMS Rheinland – lead ship of the Westfalen Class of four (Posen and Nassau). The Westfalens were the first class of dreadnoughts built by the Kaiserliche Marine and – launched in 1908 – proved to be a somewhat "rushed" attempt at keeping pace with the British. The hurried design was patterned, in some respects, on the large cruiser SMS Blucher, but the need for haste resulted in the magazines and handling arrangements for the “wing turrets” being cramped. It was decided to retain the excellent German 11 inch gun rather than up-gun to the 12 inch, mainly because the smaller rifle was easily procured on short notice, and Admiral Tirpitz stubbornly refused any increase due to the design and development costs. In practice, the wing turret arrangement only allowed eight of the twelve guns to bear in broadside, but the penalty was deemed acceptable. The need to rush the warship to completion resulted in yet another drawback. The Kaiserliche Marine had not yet experimented heavily with the longer, but more powerful steam turbine, so they opted for their dependable three-shaft, vertical triple expansion engines – resulting in a more compact arrangement, but a much slower speed. In all their haste to match the British, the Germans overlooked one simple fact; England built HMS Dreadnought – keel to commissioning – in just one year. Each of the Westfalens took 3 years to join the fleet and, in essence, were obsolete when commissioned. And now Rheinland is laid up to have her port shaft triple expansion engine completely overhauled. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. Please don't forget to click the "like" option -- if you enjoyed the content. (Comments are scarce, so it's the only feedback I have.) THANK YOU for your visit ! Next time…...The Naval Tank Farm.- 2 Comments
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CHAPTER 02 -- THE NORTH SHIP CHANNEL
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
CHAPTER 02: THE NORTH SHIP CHANNEL These are the ship locks of the north entrance to the naval base at Wilhelmshaven. There are several points of interest. First; the locks are simple and utilitarian in their design – no frills. Second; they are on the shallow side; note the bottom mud stirred up in the ship’s wake. And third; the lock gates are “sliding gates” operating on “rollers” and disappearing into the side of the lock wall. This is a “thrifty” use of space since it eliminates wasted room required by swinging gates. The size of the locks indicate one large vessel – or possibly two small ones – could be accommodated. Since the design dictates the traffic flow, my guess is that the locks were built to maintain the depth of water during tidal periods. And here they sit – still functioning like clockwork, and well over one hundred years old. The Edwardian jumble of wood and brick sheds and machine shops have disappeared from the quaysides – either bombed out in WW II or deliberately destroyed afterward. And later, when the Cold War settled across Europe, the base was once more activated as an arsenal for the “Deutsche Marine” – the shipyard functions having been passed off to commercial yards. The days of the Dreadnought Arms Race were well and truly over. It was my intention to duplicate the locks as closely as possible, but that idea quickly unraveled. The real locks were built at an angle of about thirty degrees, while SC4 is either “ortho” or “diagonal”. The pieces I would need to build the locks were mostly “ortho”. And most importantly, there are NO large diagonal ships in the game! My next idea was to do something like the Panama Canal...... But that idea was impossible, as well. None of the many “Batters” over the years have bothered to make more than “token” sets of canal locks – usually for use with “plop water”, and usually no more than a single square wide. They are pretty much “eye-candy” used to transition from “plop water” to “Maxis water”. Locks and canals could have been created by a skilled “batter” in a style similar to Wilhelmshaven or the Panama Canal. A modular piece design would allow for variable length and width -- and sliding lock gates would be simple when rendered as an “overhanging prop” – or possibly a “timed prop”. While I might have been able to make my own canal walls in EDITOR, I could never make the “overhanging prop” lock gates. And my chances of getting anyone interested in a “batting” project requiring ten or twelve different lots were “zero to none”. So I settled for “The North Ship Channel”…... The ship channel has no locks and does not require the buildings and other structures related to an actual canal, nor does it have to be diagonal, so it is easily put together. I dug the first one out and decided that it should be wide enough to accommodate two passing ships – and dug some more. Then I realized an accident in the channel could block it for months – so I devised a “divider” for safety purposes. The outer channel walls are the Marrasst Seawall set, modified for lights. The center divider is composed of “custom” lots made with WMP Seawalls and a Paeng PedMall paving texture. The landscape is mostly my custom Tree Filler lots with finishing touches of MMP work. The next two shots give you an excellent view of the two bridges and the methods of their construction. The bridges may appear a bit “over the top”, but the Firth of Forth bridge in Scotland was enormously tall to allow for normal ship traffic. Large warships, most notably the Battlecruiser Squadron of the Grand Fleet, still had to strike their topmasts when entering or leaving the anchorage. My bridges have been raised to 63 meters to allow the fighting tops and top masts of the warships to pass beneath. The railroad bridge approach ramp was raised in three stages; (1) a wide 24 meter ramp with concrete retaining walls, (2) a slightly narrower 24 meter ramp with concrete retaining walls, and (3) the 15 meter brick railway viaduct puzzle piece. The ramps are curved to save space and avoid extending as far as the Battery Gneisenau complex. The left side approach ramp has a road tunnel cut through allowing access to one of the numerous Dockyard Administration buildings. I adjusted the abutments of the approach ramps on either side until I got the bridge center support to appear in the exact middle of the two channels. Here are two shots of a freight train climbing the approach ramp and crossing the “Kaiser Wilhelm” bridge, headed for the commercial seaport on the other side of the harbor. I would have preferred a single, BIG, centerline swing-bridge at sea level. No need for approach ramps and many dockyards have such bridges. There was once a “swing-bridge” in the game (not sure it is still on the Exchange) – but it was pitifully small. A nice big one patterned after the Sydney Harbor Bridge would have been perfect, and I have it on good authority that it could be rigged to rotate with “timed props”, and would still constitute a traffic carrying rail line. This is a view of the “SMS Bayern – 1941” about to exit the ship channel – and the name alone, demands explanation. Clearly, this ship did not exist in 1941, nor in any other time. It could be called a “what if ship” – in reference to “alternative history” – or it could be called a “fantasy ship”. But it does, in fact, have historical precedence. The reality is that SMS Baden (Bayern Class) was the last battleship commissioned into the Imperial Navy (Kaiserliche Marine) in 1916. The next German battleship to be commissioned was the KMS Bismarck in 1940. There was, however, a lot of design work done between the two ships. The 1919 Treaty of Versailles allowed Germany to retain six obsolete Pre-Dreadnought battleships of the Deutschland and Braunschweig Classes. The treaty also allowed for new ships of no more than 10,000 tons to be built as replacements for the aging Pre-Dreadnoughts. This treaty clause effectively prevented Germany from building competitive battleships. (It would, however, eventually result in the building of the Deutscland Class “pocket-battleships of the 1930’s.) The “Reichsmarine” (Weimar Republic) and later, the Kriegsmarine (WW II era) carried out an endless string of design studies complete with plan drawings, weights and armor data, and armament specifications. The studies usually fell into two categories; (1) practical ships WITHIN treaty limitations, and (2) ships WITHOUT treaty limitations designed to counter construction by other naval powers. Bayern – 1941 is directly descended from it’s 1916 predecessor through an improved design ordered in 1918 (often referred to as “Battleship 1918”) but never laid down for construction. This “1918 design” was dusted off in the late 1920’s and updated to the then current technology levels, but treaty limitations still prevented anything more than a “study”. In 1933 the updated plans were hauled out by the Kreigsmarine and updated yet again in expectation of a new naval treaty that would permit building bigger ships. That is the ship you see here. The hull form is roughly the same as the Bayern of 1916, but it is armed with the improved 15 inch gun, model SK C/34. If you examine the details and general layout of the superstructure, it is clear that this design leads directly to the KMS Bismarck of just a few years later. So -- much like race horses -- battleships have bloodlines, too. The ship below, is the USS New Mexico, name ship of a class of three (USS Idaho and USS Mississippi), and a progression of the previous Pennsylvania Class. New Mexico’s underwater hull lines were a bit more refined, and for the first time the US Navy discarded the old “Dreadnought bow” and substituted what became known as the “clipper bow” – giving her a more graceful and “speedy” look. The New Mexico’s were the first class of what would come to be known as “standard battleships” in the pre-war US Navy. The following Tennessee Class and Colorado Class closely resembled their predecessor, and the eight ships often maneuvered together as a unit. Just northwest of the Ship Channel, we have the SFBT “Frohnau Radio Tower”. In the Kaiser’s day, this sort of thing would have been called a “wireless mast”. “Wireless communication” was a relatively new technology, the tower was built in a wooded area beyond the hustle and bustle of the dockyard. Communication with warships at sea was vital to operations, so an entire detachment of seamen were formed-up and trained in the new technology. The officers and men assigned would have lived on site along with a guard detail for security. On the north side of the Ship Channel are a block of administrative offices with the “Prussian War Memorial” next to the embankment, so that every ship entering or leaving harbor will be reminded of their duty. On the south side stands the “Channel Control Tower”. This building houses the staff supervising the movement of ships in and out of the harbor – much like a “traffic cop”. They also coordinate the activity in the “turning basin” just beyond the channel. Next door is the “Wilhelmshaven Nord” lighthouse. This is a custom 1x3 lot, to which I have added parking spaces, and dressed it up with NBVC marina walls. Just down from Channel Control is the “Old Admiralty Building”. (The “new” one, of course, is in Berlin.) In addition to the shore offices of Vice Admiral Scheer, this building houses the “brains” of the “Hochsee Fleet”. Junior clerks, senior clerks, junior lieutenants, staff officers, senior officers well past their days at sea, intelligence and communications staff, logistical support, and rooms and rooms full of file drawers. It also happens to be the “re-purposed” Englehardt Shirt Factory building. I could not find a building with the proper architecture that didn’t have shop awnings on the ground floor. So I finally settled on a huge brown brick building with plenty of windows and a suitably generic facade. I cut the lot down to minimum size and landscaped around it with Tree Fillers, MMP work, custom flags, and custom sandy brick paving tiles. I also made 1x1 lots with parked jeeps waiting to take the “big brass” somewhere. To the rear of the Admiralty are the “Winterton Memorial Gardens”. A fairly nice touch for the Edwardian Period, and though it has no real connection with the navy – I pay “homage” to those that have gone before. But it looks like there is something going on down in the park…… Wow !! Those anti-Trump demonstrators turn up everywhere, don’t they? Riding at anchor offshore, is the SMS Konig – 1932. This is another design study done by the Reichsmarine during the inter-war years. The Konig Class battleships were the last large class of battleships completed before the end of WW I and were considered to be quite successful. The designers of the Weimar Republic thought they might be able to update the technology without making too many changes and come out with a reasonably competitive class of warships. Since it does have historical precedence, and the model is superb – I couldn’t pass it up. Note the JS Seawalls. The concrete texture and coloring are excellent, and I simply modified a few of them to carry lighting. The only drawback to their use, is having to drain the water to place them. Inside the harbor on the south side, we have some basic “housekeeping” stuff. A fire station, the HQ of the base “Shore Patrol”, and yet another tugboat station. Note the use of NBVC marina walls. They look rather austere and “military” – and have the advantage of being quite flexible in their modular design, and “water-plopable”. They are used on all interior portions of the harbor. The Ship Channel empties into the “Turning Basin”. This large, almost hexagonal, body of water provides tugboats “sea room” to turn a battleship 90 degrees to line up with the harbor channel. In this shot, the battleship has slowed, reversed engines, and come to a stop at the buoy to await tugboat assistance. Battleships are huge, cumbersome, difficult to bring to a dead stop, and answer the helm poorly at slow speeds. Even with a tight turning circle, a battleship at minimum speed for rudder control would be unable to make this turn without assistance. In my defense, this harbor is far less claustrophobic than the real Wilhelmshaven. And there is no “harbor” in the world where a ship this size would be permitted to move without tugs. You don’t just sail a battleship up to the dock, throw out the anchor, and pop a quarter in the parking meter! So tugs are necessary to prevent even minor collisions that could sink one or both battleships. (Ships moored to a quay rarely have “watertight integrity” set throughout the ship.) This is HMS New Zealand being towed to out to sea from the John Brown Shipyards on the Clyde. Note a lead tug, with two tug hawsers trailing from New Zealand’s fantail. The trailing tugs can be used to shove her stern around the curves in the river, or to act as a “brake” should she take on too much headway. The warship waiting for tugs is the USS Arkansas, one of two ships in the Wyoming Class. Arkansas was a third generation dreadnought in the US Navy and quite similar to the two preceding Classes. Her even dozen Mark 7/50 - 12 inch guns were mounted in six twin turrets – the most main battery turrets carried by any US warship. Her powerful guns would be the last of their kind – the follow-on New York Class was armed with the Mark 1/45 - 14 inch gun. The “old girl” looked a bit of a “tub” -- short with a wide beam – but she was a stable gun platform and preformed a good deal of service in her day. Arkansas served in the Sixth Battle Squadron of the Grand Fleet in WWI, and was present at the surrender of the Hochsee Fleet in 1918. She soldiered on between the wars, turning up again as part of the Bombardment Group off the 1944 Normandy beaches. In the end, she was spared the indignity of the cutter’s torch, and at the age of 34, was expended as a target ship at Bikini Atoll in 1946. Comments and critiques are requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! Next time…...The Long Quay.- 3 Comments
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How do you place harbors and such, parallel to the coast shore instead of being perpendicular? I mean to save space instead of building extra large rivers.
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Rail doesn't discharge freight to a harbors?
MarkShot posted a topic in SimCity 4 General Discussion
Using the route query tools. I only see freight moving to a harbor by truck and not rail. Is this correct? Thanks!
