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Occasional Paper 58: Postcards Home

July 2019

An interest in philately has led to a collection of post cards from a century past showing the Pacific colonies of the German Empire. These help bring to life the story of the transit of the German Asiatic Squadron from its base at Tsingtao across the Indian and Pacific Oceans until its eventual demise off the cold and dark waters of the Falkland Islands. This article summarises an award-winning exhibit at the Canberra Stampshow 2014 held in March.

 The Colonies

Germany was a latecomer to overseas colonies but made up for lost time in the latter part of the 19th century. To help penetrate world markets a series of colonies was acquired between 1884 and 1899 extending from southern China through chains of oceanic islands to New Guinea. These comprised Chinese concessions at Kiautshou and Chefoo, and colonies/ protectorates at Bougainville Island, Caroline Islands, Marshall Islands, Mariana Islands, German New Guinea, Solomon Islands and German Samoa. A naval base and small garrison was established at the Chinese concession with an administrative centre at Tsingtao. A further administrative centre was at Rabaul in New Pomerania, Kaiser-Wilhelmsland (German New Guinea).

 SMY Hohenzollern 

German postage stamp depicts SMY Hohenzollern 

Kaiser Wilhelm II had a great attachment for his navy, epitomised by his royal yacht Seiner Majestät Yacht Hohenzollern. With a length of 390 ft (116 m), 46 ft (14 m) beam, 19 ft (5.7 m) draught, displacing over 4,300 tons and capable of 22 knots with a complement of 600 officers and men this was indeed a stately floating palace. She was used extensively taking the royal party on summer cruises and fleet reviews. In twenty years of active service the Kaiser is said to have spent over four years onboard. In June 1914 at the Kiel Regatta officers of the British fleet were entertained on board only two months before the outbreak of WW I. Importantly in philatelic circles the Hohenzollern image was used as the definitive design for nearly all German colonial postage stamps issued between 1900 and 1919.

The Homeward Journey

The first post card which shows the cruiser SMS Gneisnau was posted from Tsingtao on 13 March 1913. In translation this reads: Dear Parents, One day after I sent my last letter to you, this was 13th March, received your parcel by the steamer York containing the bag for a telescope and other nice things. Naturally I was very glad about it and thank you very much and I send my best wishes. Your warm hearted son, Ernst.

On 23 August 1914 Japan declared war on Germany and promptly blockaded Tsingtao but by this time Vice Admiral Graf Maximilian von Spee and his German Asiatic Squadron had departed. Following a bitter struggle supported by British troops the Japanese claimed the German concession. There is a post card from this period showing the Japanese cruiser Soya. She had an interesting history, being built in the United States as Variag for the Russian Navy. Being badly damaged in the Russo-Japanese war she was scuttled but salvaged and repaired by the victors. Soya then served as a cadet ship until 1916 when sold back to the Russians. After refitting in Britain she served as a depot ship until wrecked on her way to the breakers in 1920.

Next is a post card from the New Zealand Expeditionary Force of 1,383 men who effected an unopposed occupation of Samoa on 29 August 1914. Life in this quiet backwater was interrupted on 14 September by the arrival of the German cruisers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. An intended dawn raid to destroy Allied shipping and cut communications did not eventuate when it was discovered the only vessel in harbour was an American sailing ship. The cruisers withdrew seeking better game.

Postcard SMS Gneisenau

A postcard dated 21 September which in part reads: ‘Things are pretty deadly in Samoa and the heat is awful and the bugs, ants and mosquitoes make night hideous and none of the boys are feeling too well and next month when the rainy season commences many no doubt will be down with fever. Two big German warships entered the harbour last week and alarmed the Corps but they cleared out without a fight. They are still off the coast, however, so we may yet have a scrap. Everyone is sick of Samoa and we all want to go to Europe, but suppose we will have to stick it out here for months yet.’

By 22 September the German cruisers had reached Tahiti where they conducted a half-hearted bombardment. This was answered by a shore battery of 4-inch guns taken from the gunboat Zelee. The gunboat had been scuttled to block the harbour and the stockpile of coal set alight. The Germans again withdrew but by this time their intentions were becoming clearer in making for South America.

Following the decisive Battle of Coronel where the German squadron defeated a Royal Naval squadron commanded by Rear Admiral Sir Christopher Cradock, the victors called at Valparaiso primarily to coal ship. From here a post card was sent from the Captain of SMS Nurnberg to the Mayor of Nurnberg dated 3 November 1914. Translated, this reads: ‘A quick note to say the SMS Numberg sank the English heavy cruiser Monmouth on the night of 1st November off the coast of Coronel (Conception Bay, Chile). The weather was stormy. The conditions of the whole engagement was excellent.’ This card most likely went in diplomatic mail via the German Consulate.

Postcard SMS Numberg

The revenge by a superior Royal Naval force over von Spee’s squadron off the Falklands on 8 December 1914 is well known. Only one warship, SMS Dresden (a sister ship of Emden), escaped to hide in the expansive Chilean fiords, until she too was cornered by HM Ships Glasgow and Kent at Juan Fernandez Island (famed home of Alexander Selkirk, the inspiration for Robinson Crusoe).

Finally there are two postcards of British manufacture showing Dresden at Juan Fernandez, taken before her magazine detonated. One card shows a ship’s boat approaching Dresden and the other a close-up of shell splinter damage. On 14 March 1915 after a few shots were fired by both sides Dresden’s Kapitan zur See Ludecke, knowing his situation was hopeless, raised the white flag and sent Leutnant Wilhelm Canaris (later Admiral) to negotiate with the British. However, this was merely a ruse to buy time so that the crew could abandon ship and scuttle her by detonating the forward magazine. Dresden then sank with her battle ensign flying and most of her crew were saved to be interned in Chile.

Publication December 2014 edition of the Naval Historical Review (all rights reserved)
By Peter Brigden

Occasional Paper 55: Reuben Mitchell DSM, RAN – Survivor of HMS E14

June 2019

The following story is of an Australian Able Seaman whom some military historians believe should have been awarded the Victoria Cross for his courage and compassion while under enemy fire from Turkish guns in the Dardanelles during World War I.  The most senior survivor was Petty Officer Coxswain Robert Perkins, DSM who wrote in a report, ‘Reuben Mitchell acted most gallantly.  He was on the conning tower with three officers, passing orders below to the helmsman.  All the officers were swept off the bridge by shellfire and he was left all alone. Although the enemy had the exact range and he was clearly visible, he stuck to his post and took charge of the boat until it sank.  When in the water, he then rescued the wireless operator who was unconscious from head wounds.  There was no senior officer left to recommend him for his outstanding gallantry, and his only reward was the self-evident fact that he had done his duty.’

Reuben Joseph Edward Mitchell was born in Ballarat, Victoria on 28 July, 1894.  Having joined the Royal Navy based on the Australian Station, he served on several ships before joining HMS Challenger and sailing to England on the ship’s return in 1913.  It was while at Portsmouth that he volunteered for submarines and on completion of his training at HMS Dolphin based on Fort Blockhouse, and at HMS Vernon, which included training in HM Submarines A6, A13 and E4, he joined HMAS AE2 to return to Australia as an Able Seaman.

The complete crew of HMAS AE2, taken in the UK in 1914.
Mitchell is second from the right in the top row

When AE2 was deployed to the Mediterranean, Mitchell found himself transferred to spare crew on a submarine repair ship when AE2 undertook her sortie up the Dardanelles in April, 1915.

On 27 January 1918, Able Seaman Mitchell was included in the crew of HMS E14 under the command of Lt-Cdr G.S. White, RN, when they set out to torpedo the German battle cruiser Goeben, which had been damaged by a mine and run aground off Nagara Point in the Dardanelles.

HMS E14

The source for most of this story was written by Mitchell himself in a report which was recently found in a file located in the Sampson Collection on Spectacle Island. It is reproduced here verbatim.

Mitchell’s own account

‘HM Submarine E14, Lieutenant Commander White, RN, left a naval base on the evening of 27 January with an escort as far as the entrance to the Dardanelles. At 3 am 28 January, we forced our way through the first line of nets without resistance. All went well until about 6 am, when we ran aground and were caught in the nets, which we could not clear, so we surfaced, and the Captain went out and cleared the obstacle. We believed it to be the nets, but the Captain did not say. Before going out, the Captain left orders for the Lieutenant to dive at once should he whistle or sing out, and to ‘look after himself as there were 31 men inside; never to mind him.’ While the Captain was on the surface, he found the gates of the Narrows, and that we were at Chanak. He did not hear a shout or anything and came inside the boat and went astern into deep water, and got away without being seen. These were the last nets we felt.

Now the search for the Goeben started and I believe we went on for two miles past Nagara Point and found the Goeben had gone. We found out during our capture that she was taken away six hours before, this we got from a Turkish naval man, who helped get her off. When the Captain found that she had gone, he went back for home, but at Chanak, there was a large German liner which we believed had ammunition for the Goeben.

SMS Goeben

We fired one torpedo at her and a heavy explosion took place. Our boat came to the surface and a heavy fire came from all the forts. Many pieces of shrapnel hit the boat, then a large shell hit the conning tower and did a bit of damage. The captain was pleased at the moment with the behaviour of the crew, not a man moving from his station. Several shells were then heard to pass overhead, but luckily they did not drop a depth charge.

After a time, the boat got out of control, and as we had only three bottles of air left, the Captain thought it would be best to surface. At once we could hear heavy fire and we could hear pieces hit the hull of our boat. As a result of a hit in the centre of the boat, it could not dive again. We ran the gauntlet for half an hour under murderous fire from all round, only a few hitting the hull of the boat. Our wireless operator was badly wounded in the mouth and the left hand, and fell unconscious. The Captain, seeing it was hopeless ran the boat towards shore. His last words were, ‘We are in the hands of God, my men. Do your best to get ashore’.

Captain killed

A few seconds later, I saw his body mangled by shellfire, roll into the water and was taken under. The same shell killed the Navigator, and left me by myself, and other shells killed nearly all the hands.

Had the Turks stopped firing as soon as they saw us sinking, with a few wounded on deck, many more might have been saved. It must have been half an hour before they put out for us. Amid the cries of the wounded men in the water, several voices were heard saying ‘Goodbye, goodbye all’. Their hands went up and they disappeared for the last time.

Only nine survived

It was hell; when I look back at that fatal half hour, it haunts me. As no boat seemed to be coming out to pick us up, we made for Kum Kale, and were picked up only a few yards from the shore. Soon after the Turks got hold of us, all our clothing was taken from us, and we had to walk through Kum Kale naked. It broke our hearts when we saw only nine had been saved out of 32 officers and men. The three wounded were in a very bad state and unconscious when I saw them last.

On arrival at a small hut, a short pair of trousers, all patchwork, was given to us to put on, which we found to be full of lice. No underclothing was given to us. A small fire was made in a room, and we were very glad to get it as we were very cold; and shortly a filthy-looking Turk brought us some hot tea without milk or sugar. That is all he gave us to bring us round again.

In the evening, we were sent to Chanak and handed over the Germans, and here we remained for two days. Here we were sent to a small room for the night, feeling very tired and hungry, as the crew had nothing while submerged in the Dardanelles and it was midnight when a Turk came with some black barley and maize bread and a dish of beans boiled in olive oil which we could not manage to eat. This was our daily meal; two meals a day and one maize loaf and a bucket of water. During our time at Chanak many visits were paid by newspaper reporters and Germans of high rank.

Sleep was out of the question that night. Many questions were asked of us concerning England. They were under the impression that England was in a very bad state, as the submarine menace was hitting us hard. On the following day, we were sent to Constantinople, and when we arrived were taken on board a German liner, used as German Headquarters. Here we went before a court of German and Turkish officers, one at a time, and many jokes were passed.

At 5.30, we were taken over to the Turks and were taken through Istanbul thinking we were going to a British camp, but found ourselves behind prison bars, for what reason I do not know. We were housed in filthy compartments, among some of the biggest criminal prisoners in Turkey, sitting in a room with huge chains and handcuffs on.

The place was full of lice and bugs. We remained there for two days and then went to another room with 150 of the same kind of criminals, some dying of cholera and dysentery. When we arrived we asked for bread which was not brought to us until 36 hours after. A man named Firuze Hanzandian, an Armenian subject, bought four loaves of bread with one Turkish pound and then gave them to us. He got a flogging for it and was not allowed to talk to us. He said, ‘I am not a rich man, but I am a man.’

Time went on and we were getting very bad; no clothing to cover us up at night, and nothing to lie on but the cold bare floor. We complained of the filthy rooms in which we had to eat and sleep, suffering the same punishment as the criminal offenders who were guilty. After this, another room was allotted to us, which was quite as bad, the smell and stench being abominable. Owing to this, fever and dysentery broke out, which eventually became so bad that two men lay weak on the floor. A doctor was asked for; he came 24 hours after, and the two men were sent to hospital. During our time in prison, no bedding or any covering was given to us. Drinking water had to be obtained from the urinals.

British camp

We eventually saw two British officers and told them of the conditions we were living under as prisoners of war. Pressure having been brought to bear, we were sent to British camp at Samatyra and that consisted of a school room with 150 English (servicemen), some with arms and legs off, waiting to be exchanged. We had no fires unless we could buy our own fuel; no books or anything to read, and hardly any food, only two meals a day and one loaf of bread. I remained in the camp two days and was sent to hospital with typhus fever and dysentery. Weak as I was, I had five miles to walk, arriving almost dead and hungry. A Turk was turned out of one bed and I was told to get in it. I refused and was handled roughly, and given another bed, which was just as bad. The bed and clothing was covered in lice and not many hours after I was covered with vermin.

The following morning I was sent to the typhus ward, and there I found one of my comrades. I was put in the next bed but one, after turning a Turk out, and getting into his clothing. I was in this ward for about two weeks, and left it like a bag of bones and my body almost black with lice. On three occasions the Dutch Embassy gave two ½ lb tins of milk and a third one to go between three Englishmen. My meals were mostly baked wheat or spinach, and that was what I pulled around on.

At times the Embassy used to bring us a little food, about three parcels for all the English, and you got a little tea, sugar, butter, jam, just enough for one piece of bread. What food you received from the hospital was no good. At last we asked to be discharged and weak as we were, we were sent to a working camp.’

After the War

Mitchell returned to London after being liberated at the end of the war where he was able to recuperate from his time in prison. He was awarded the Distinguished Service Medal on 12 December, 1919. He returned to Australia where he married and raised three children. He passed away on 16 August 1954, aged 60.

Victoria Cross

In a footnote to the above, the Commander of the E14, Lt-Cdr Geoffrey White RN, was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross, gazetted on 24 May, 1919 for his part in the action in the Dardanelles, which had started the day before the boat set out.

He flew as a passenger in an aircraft during the aerial bombing of Goeben to see her position for himself and to plan his method of attack.

The award of the Victoria Cross to White created a record as HMS E14 is the only vessel in the history of the Royal Navy in which two different commanding officers had won the Victoria Cross, the other Commander being Lt-Cdr Edward Courtney Boyle, RN, who was presented his Victoria Cross on 1 March, 1916 for actions during the 1915 Gallipoli campaign. when the submarine went on a sortie through the straits and past minefields into the Sea of Marmara.

Wreck identified

The wreck of HMS E14 was identified in 2012 found lying at a depth of 65ft at an angle of almost 45 degrees with sand covering nearly all the 181ft vessel.

At least one shell hole was visible near the bows, but that appeared to be the only one.

 

 

Occasional Paper 42: The day the entire German fleet surrendered – 100 years ago


Armistice Day is remembered as the day World War One ended, but for naval historians Britain’s greatest victory came 10 days later.  Operation ZZ was the code name for the surrender of Germany’s mighty navy.

For those who witnessed “Der Tag” or “The Day” it was a sight they would never forget – the greatest gathering of warships the world had ever witnessed.

It was still dark in the Firth of Forth when the mighty dreadnoughts of the Royal Navy’s Grand Fleet began to raise steam and one by one let slip their moorings.

The huge shapes of more than 40 battleships and battlecruisers began to ease out, course set due east.  As the procession of steel headed for the open water of the North Sea, more than 150 cruisers and destroyers joined them.  The mightiest fleet ever to sail from Britain’s shores was heading for a final rendezvous with its mortal enemy – the German High Seas Fleet.

Present were HMA Ships Australia (I) (Captain TN James, RN), leading the British port line, Melbourne (I) (Captain EA Rushton, RN) and Sydney (I) (Captain JS Dumaresq, CB, MVO, RN).

Victory would be total.  But there was to be no battle.  After four years of naval stalemate, this was the day when Germany would deliver her warships into British hands, without a shot being fired.

The date was 21 November 1918.  World War One had ended on land 10 days earlier, but this was to be the decisive day of victory at sea.

HMAS Melbourne flying three battle flags and cleared for action on the day of the surrender

After tense negotiation, Germany had agreed to deliver its fleet, the second biggest in the world behind only the Royal Navy, into the hands of the British.  The mighty assembly steaming to meet theGermans was a reception committee so overwhelming that it would brook no change of plan.

Operation ZZ saw the mightiest gathering of warships in one place on one day in naval history.

HMAS Australia at the surrender of the German fleet in the Firth of Forth

It was a sight those who saw it would never forget.  The unnamed correspondent for the Times, watching from the deck of the British flagship the dreadnought HMS Queen Elizabeth, was overwhelmed:

“The annals of naval warfare hold no parallel to the memorable event which it has been my privilege to witness today.  It was the passing of a whole fleet, and it marked the final and ignoble abandonment of a vainglorious challenge to the naval supremacy of Britain.”

Two days earlier nine German battleships, five battlecruisers, seven cruisers and 50 destroyers had set sail, heading west.  Under the terms of the Armistice which had ended the war they were to hand themselves over in the Firth of Forth, before being brought to the lonely Orkney anchorage of Scapa Flow.

As he led his fleet out of the Firth of Forth, Sir David Beatty could count on an overwhelming superiority to forestall any final show of German defiance.  As well as his ships, he was joined by five American battleships and three French warships.

Nevertheless, he was taking no chances.  His orders issued the night before were clear – ships were to be ready for action:

“Turrets and guns are to be kept in the securing positions, but free.  Guns are to be empty with cages up and loaded ready for ramming home.  Directors and armoured towers are to be trained on.  Correct range and deflection are to be kept set continuously on the sights.”

As the Grand Fleet sailed into the North Sea, it formed two massive columns, one to the north, one to the south, six miles apart.  Just before 10:00 it met the Germans, being led to their surrender by the British light cruiser HMS Cardiff.  The Allied columns swung round to due west, forming an overwhelming escort on either side of the Germans.

HMS Queen Elizabeth and other British battleships inline

The Times correspondent described the scene:

“Between the lines came the Germans, led by the Cardiff, and looking for all the world like a school of leviathans led by a minnow.  Over them flew a British naval airship.  First came the battlecruisers, headed by the Seydlitz.”

By late morning it was over.  The German ships, missing one destroyer which had struck a mine and sunk, lay at anchor off theIsle of May in the outer reaches of the Firth of Forth, surrounded by their jailers.  Beatty rammed home the message with a curt signal:

“The German flag will be hauled down at sunset today and will not be hoisted again without permission.”

The German battlecruiser Hindenburg is photographed as it comes in to surrender

Before holding a service of thanksgiving on board HMS Queen Elizabeth, Beatty thanked the sailors of the Grand Fleet.

“My congratulations on the victory which has been gained over the sea power of our enemy.  The greatest of this achievement is in no way lessened by the fact that the final episode did not take the form of a fleet action.”

At the surrender each German vessel was assigned to the custody of a British ship, which sent aboard a party to inspect it for hidden explosives and instruct the captain.  HMAS Melbournehad responsibility for the German light cruiser Nurnberg while HMAS Australiawas given the battlecruiser Hindenburg. HMAS Sydney was assigned to escort another Emden, the light cruiser named to honour Sydney’s opponent at the Battle of Cocos.

As darkness fell on 21 November 1918 buglers played “making sunset” and cheers rang out from the sailors of the Grand Fleet.

Occasional Paper 39: Compelled to Resign – The story of Commander Paul Hugill Hirst RAN 1899-1963

by Lieutenant Commander Terry Feltham RAN Ret’d

“Just because something ends doesn’t mean it never should’ve been.  Remember, you lived, you learned, you grew and you moved on”.  Anon.

Why this topic?

The recent discovery within the Society’s archives of an undated letter from Signalman Donald Fraser, commissioning member of HMAS Toowoomba1 led to my researching the reasons for the resignation in March 1942 of her Commanding Officer, LCDR Paul Hirst and the eventual dispersal of her entire crew.

Part of undated letter from Don Fraser: after suffering heavy damage on the passage.  Soon thereafter we were ordered back to sea. Our captain ‘Digger Hirst’ was loath to take Toowoomba to sea until major repairs were affected.  Apparently Senior Naval Officer Western Australia, Commodore Collins, directed the skipper – ‘Take your ship to sea or resign’.  ‘Digger’ advised the ship’s company, “I’ve resigned and I will be happy to get back to the spuds in Tasmania”.  Under a new skipper we sailed to Adelaide for repairs.  There, the entire crew received ‘individual draft notes’ sending them to all corners of the globe!  Toowoomba then decommissioned, affected repairs and recommissioned.  Did ‘Digger’ resign for nothing?  Don Fraser.[i]

My First Impressions.

Initially, there seemed little to this research task.  Paul Hirst was a member of the Pioneer Class[ii] at The Naval College and HMAS Toowoomba 1 was Paul’s third command (following Tasmania and Success). Clearly Commodore John Collins and The Naval Board held Paul in high regard.  So, in my opinion all that was required was for me to obtain copies of Toowoomba’s Reports of Proceedings from commissioning date in October 1941 to March 1942, seek out the Naval Board paperwork on the incident, the notes by Commodore Collins immediately before and after his decisions on the incident and access Paul Hirst’s personal reports and then write the story.  ‘Wrong’.  Despite considerable help from many people (most notably Vice Admiral Peter Jones) many cupboards were bare.  However, sufficient veteran’s recollections are recorded to allow us the essentials of the story.

So I chose to go back to the early part of the 20th Century, research the history behind The Royal Australian Naval College and its Pioneer Class and build the story from that point.

 

The Royal Australian Navy and its Naval College

By the middle of the first decade of the 20th Century Vice Admiral Sir William Rooke Creswell, KCMG, KBE (‘The Father Of The Royal Australian Navy) along with Rear Admiral Frederick Tickell MID CMG RN and two very supportive Prime Ministers, Alfred Deakin and Andrew Fisher, had begun a concerted push to have our Navy (more a Colonial Force at the time) breakaway from The Admiralty.  By late 1905 the Australian Commonwealth Naval Board was constituted in Melbourne, and it was clear that ‘The Royal Australian Navy’ (RAN) was close at hand.[iii]


VICE ADMIRAL WILLAM ROOKE CRESWELL, KCMG, KBE, RAN (Chief of Staff, RAN) REAR ADMIRAL FREDERICK TICKEL CMG RAN (AS A CAPTAIN RAN) Australian War Memorial
Prime Minister of Australia Andrew Fisher, By T. Humphrey & Co, NLA image Prime Minister of Australia Alfred Deakin, NLA image

By 1911 many of Creswell’s capital initiatives for the RAN had been agreed and the Australian Government had also signed off on a major recruitment scheme for Australian Naval Officers, specifically:

An Australian Naval College (to be named HMAS Creswell on commissioning in January 1958) would be established at Jervis Bay by 1915.  In the interim, young boys from all Australian states, and whose 13th birthday fell in the calendar year 1 January 1913 to 31 December 1913, would be invited to sit an exemplar exam in 1912 for entry to the Temporary Australian Naval College at Geelong in Victoria in 1913.   Twenty eight Officer Cadets would be chosen to undergo a rigorous four year education, leadership, sporting and management program taking them to University entrance equivalent.  On completion the successful graduates would join the Royal Australian Naval Officer Ranks as Midshipmen.[iv]

Creswell also made it clear to the Australian Government that he expected significant numbers of RN officers (including several of Flag Rank) would be required to fill positions in Australia’s naval command structure for the foreseeable future; probably until the early 1930s.  He went further:

‘this fact does not worry me one iota as I am confident the Naval College structure agreed by the Australian Government, with its fine Executive, Educational, Engineering and Electrical training staff, would soon begin commissioning superb Australian Naval Officers’.[v]

Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d) in his book Australia’s Argonauts expresses best the sentiment of the time:

“For the nation, the calling for the first intake of Australia’s naval college was an important step in forging its own Navy.  Yet, for twenty eight 13-year-old boys their decision would forever change their lives.  Their careers would decisively shape the course of the Royal Australian Navy”.[vi]

 

 

 

Members of the Pioneer Class[vii] [7]

Otto Edmund Albert;

George William Thomas Armitage;

Joseph Burnett (later KIA when Commanding Officer [Captain RAN], HMAS Sydney);

Norman Keith Calder;

John Augustine Collins (later Vice Admiral Sir John, KBE CB, Chief of Naval Staff 1948-1955);

Alfred Denis Conder;

Ernest Semple ‘Dick’ Cunningham (lost in HM K17 in 1917);

James Claude Durie Esdaile (the last surviving member of The Pioneer Class);

Harold Bruce (Fearless Frank) Farncomb (later Rear Admiral – CB, DSO, MVO, MID (3) Navy Cross [US] and Commander of the Legion of Merit [US]);

Eric Augustus Feldt (later OBE and Commander RAN – our greatest Coastwatcher);

Frank Edmond Getting (later Captain RAN – KIA 1942 when in Command HMAS Canberra);

 Lloyd Falconer Gilling;

Paul Hugill Hirst (later Commander – 3 Commands – Tasmania, Success and Toowoomba);

Elmer Benjamin Howells;

Peyton James Kimlin;

Frank Lockwood Larkins;

John Valentine Stuart ‘Jack’ Lecky;

Rupert Basil Michel Long;

Hugh Alexander MacKenzie DSC;

Jack Bolton Newman;

Edwin Scott Nurse;

Win Locker Reilly;

Cyril Arthur Roy Sadlier;

Henry ‘Harry’ Arthur Showers (later Rear Admiral, CBE);

Horace John Harold Thompson;

Harry Bertram Vallentine;

Adrian Joseph Beachleigh Watts;

Llewellyn Leigh Watkins.

 

 

Captain Bertram Chambers RAN was the initial Master at the College and to anyone interested he would say:

 – ‘these young boys were selected on their perceived ability alone; social standing was paid no mind.  I guarantee that by the passing of six months it will be impossible to tell the difference between the Cadet who knew the meaning of ‘a silver spoon’ and the Cadet who could handle a stump jump plough’.[viii]

Several of the class proved notable talents and will be well known to many of us: Vice Admiral Sir John Collins, Rear Admiral Farncomb, Rear Admiral Showers, Captain Burnett and Commander Feldt. Commander Paul Hirst proved to be a first-class naval officer and commanding officer, however he will not be as well-known as those named above.

Boys to Men

The selection process sought to ensure that only the fittest and the physically strong formed the 1913 Entry.

Sadly though, several originals lost their life while serving their initial engagement 1913-1930 and three Cadet Midshipmen were discharged before graduation returning to civil life and uncertain futures.  The first to give his life was Otto Albert through meningitis in May 1914. Dick Cunningham, along with 47 other crew members in the RN submarine K17 were KIA following a collision in what was to become known as the Battle of May Island on 31 January 1918; and after the war ended, Frank Larkins accidentally lost his life when swept overboard from the casing of the RAN submarine J2 on the night of 19/20 June 1919 while transiting past Sumatra on his return to Australia.

World War 1 ends

Several of The Pioneer Class saw service during WWI, but by 1920 their lives had returned to a form of normality.  A Return of Service obligation tied them to the RAN until 1930 and by then the seafarers blood flowed in the veins of quite a few, many going on to give absolutely outstanding Naval service until retirement; most notable being Vice Admiral Sir John Collins and Rear Admiral Harold Farncomb.  The honour and legacy of those two men was settled for all time when the Australian Government gave the names Collins and Farncomb to two of our Collins Class Submarines.

Vice Admiral Collins was not only a name to be remembered by the Australian Government and the RAN; the people of Sydney (maybe even wider Australia) silently offered their thanks to him at his funeral.  One woman was heard praising him in this way, ‘You have to understand what John Collins meant to us.  When we were losing everywhere in the war he gave us our finest victory.  He gave us hope’.[ix]

Paul Hirst proved also to be an outstanding naval officer.  During the 1920s he was recognised as such on two occasions by The Naval Board, when given command of HMAS Tasmania and later HMAS Success.  The following was written of Paul Hirst during his period In Command of HMAS Success.

“Paul Hirst is a capable, keen and zealous Commanding Officer of HMAS Success”.  RAN.[x]

 

 

During that decade Paul was also appointed as The First Lieutenant at HMAS Cerberus a tough assignment for any Naval Officer

In 1931, with the world at peace, Paul decided to resign his commission and return to the family home in Carrick, Tasmania.  When War raised its ugly head again late in the 1930s, he offered to re-join in July 1939 as a member of the Emergency List and was accepted with the rank of Lieutenant Commander.  Following service at Cerberus, then Warrego and Brisbane, Paul was appointed to commission HMAS Toowoomba in October 1941.  This appointment being further recognition of the esteem in which he was held by his superiors.

Toowoomba at War 1941/1942

Soon after her commissioning late 1941, Toowoomba entered operational service.  She was based in Sydney initially, tasked with convoy escort duties along the east coast of Australia until January 1942, when she was ordered to Batavia.  Toowoomba was in constant action over the next two months and on 14 February was one of the last ships to enter Singapore Harbour before the Island was captured by the Japanese.  Toowoomba’s sailing orders for each of her assignments in 1942 were issued under the hand of Commodore Collins RAN.

Following the outbreak of war with Japan, Captain John Collins was appointed Commodore Commanding China Force, based in Batavia, Dutch East Indies.  HMAS Toowoomba under the command of Paul Hirst was stationed in the Dutch East India area early 1942, so throughout that period, Commodore Collins was Paul’s senior officer and as such his reporting officer

During what must have been a quite insane period in the Dutch East Indies early in 1942, Toowoomba was ‘dive bombed’ many times, surviving, it seems, only by the magnificent seamanship of her Captain.  Toowoomba’s crew paid tribute to Paul with Signalman Fraser remembering Paul as a ‘Bonzer bloke and a terrific skipper’.[xi]

Toowoomba’s assignments in the Tanjong Priok and Tjilatjap areas kept her extremely busy and Tjilatjap became a regular stop off for refuelling.  Hirst decided it would be prudent always to track close inshore when escorting convoys and when leading his corvettes.

Early 1942 the RAN decided that as Collins and his staff could not be well protected in Batavia, the office was to be moved to Fremantle,

Early on the morning of 2 March Collins, stationed at the time at Tjilatjap was doing his utmost to find shipboard accommodation for as many as possible in the transfer of his quarters and staff to Fremantle to take up the position as Commodore Commanding Fremantle and Senior Naval Officer, Western Australia

To his delight, over the horizon came Paul Hirst in Toowoomba and the other corvettes he was leading.  Collins would have found them a god-send; as they made possible the evacuation of all personnel.

Soon after that evacuation, Toowoomba was ordered back to Fremantle and then commenced routine patrols off the Western Australian Coast.  During her last patrol, she encountered heavy seas and suffered major damage to her upper deck structures and sonar and was forced to return to Fremantle.  Shortly before arrival, a signal was received in Toowoomba informing Paul that he was to be promoted Commander and that he was to take four corvettes, including Toowoomba to join the British Eastern Fleet.  The whole crew were delighted in the announcement.

Damaged Toowoomba arrived in Fremantle on Saturday 19th July 1942.

The Fremantle Meeting

Paul’s naval career ended effectively one week after Toowoomba’s return to Fremantle on Saturday 19 July 1942.

On arrival in Fremantle, I think it fair to assume that Commodore John Collins inspected the damage to Toowoomba[xii] and that Paul paid a visit to Senior Officer Western Australia Commodore Collins to further explain the structural damages to Toowoomba and to seek time to affect the required repairs.  There are no written records extant of either Paul’s visit to John Collins or John Collin’s visit to Toowoomba.  The Naval Board were in Melbourne and would not have visited the ship.

I do not say that Collins suggested to Hirst, ‘resign’, as there is no corroborating evidence such an exchange occurred. What we do know is that Hirst told his ship’s company he had resigned.

What I am suggesting is that there may well be several other parts to this section of the story. In particular I have little doubt that Commodore Collins took in Paul’s explanation of the repairs considered essential before Toowoomba could return to War Time duty anywhere, I think it is fair to assume, Commodore Collins, at this time, was (nearly) out on his feet following those hectic days in Singapore, Tanjong Priok and Tjilatjap when all that he was concerned about was the safety of his staff and the prosecution of Australia’s wartime commitments in the region.

There could be only one winner in the apparent disagreement between Paul and Commodore Collins over Toowoomba’s seaworthiness.

Vice Admiral Jones makes a most salient point.  “The date was 1942, however Paul’s principled stand then resonates today where there is much greater appreciation on ensuring the material condition of ships ‘ship safe’ regime”.[xiii]  So I remain bemused that Collins and the Naval Board (apparently) dismissed Hirst’s caution out of hand.

Despite Collins having been closely associated with Hirst’s promotion to Commander and Hirst’s exemplary wartime record in the Dutch East Indies in 1942, Paul would no doubt have given serious consideration to all Collins had to say before he (Hirst) decided ‘Resignation it must be’.

Both men were true gentlemen, outstanding Naval Officers and leaders (particularly in the case of Commodore Collins) and each would have known what the outcome of their disagreement had to be.  First and foremost though was that Australia’s Naval Activities in the Dutch East Indies and also in Australian waters would take precedence over personal friendships.  Paul would have understood this clearly.

Paul then returned to Toowoomba keeping much to himself until the following day.  At an appropriate time, he assembled the ship’s company on Fremantle wharf, advised them of his meeting with The Senior Officer Western Australia, Commodore Collins, and told the crew (words to the effect) – “I’ve decided to resign my Commission.  I will be returning to my family in Tasmania.  You have been an amazing crew.  I wish you well for the future”.[xiv]  On Paul’s departure a period of considerable gloom settled over Toowoomba.

The Aftermath

Repairs to Toowoomba were not affected until November 1942.  Yes, a new Commanding Officer was appointed shortly after Hirst’s resignation, but the original crew remained aboard until Toowoomba arrived in Adelaide for docking and repair.

The obvious question as far as I am concerned: ‘Why did Paul Hirst feel compelled to resign IF the repairs to Toowoomba were essential and arranged to be completed in Adelaide soon after his resignation’?

On arrival Adelaide, Toowoomba was docked for repairs and her original crew (including all officers) were reassigned (posting notes and appointments) far and wide within the RAN.

Clearly, the Naval Board wanted a lid put on the whole incident.  On 22 November 1942 Toowoomba was assigned to duty to the British Eastern Fleet involved in escort and patrol duties across the Indian Ocean reaching as far west as the Persian Gulf operating with the fleet until returning to Fremantle on 3 December 1944 for refit.  That refit was completed in March 1945, and Toowoomba joined the British Pacific Fleet, assigned to escort and patrol duties between Australia and New Guinea until the end of hostilities.

Following the end of World War II, Toowoomba spent time in Hong Kong, performing minesweeping and hydrological survey duties; returning to Australia in December 1945.  The corvette earned two battle honours for her wartime service, “Pacific 1942” and “Indian Ocean 1942–44”.

Following his resignation, Paul returned to his beloved Tasmania.  However, he was not done with service in our Armed Forces.  In September 1945 he volunteered for duty as a Captain with the Australian Army and was appointed Master of Craft with the Army’s water transport corps.  Paul’s appointment in the Army was terminated (at his request) in January 1947.  He then returned to farming in Tasmania.  His wife Evelyn passed away in 1963 and Paul was laid to rest in Carrick Church Cemetery, Tasmania, in 1973.

Shipmates attending Paul’s funeral in 1973 at Low Head, Tasmania, recalled: ‘Digger had an uncanny ability to avoid the bombs from Japanese aircraft’.  Norm Smith, another shipmate, wrote, Paul Hirst ‘had brought the ship through several close encounters with the enemy of the time so I and 80 or so others revere his memory in perpetuity’.[xv]  Vale

 

 

 

 

HMAS Toowoomba During Pre-Commissioning Trials 1941

 

 

 Namesake: City of Toowoomba, Queensland

 
Builder: Walkers Limited in Maryborough, Queensland

 
Laid down: 6 August 1940

 
Launched: 26 March 1941

 
Commissioned: 9 October 1941

 
HMAS Toowoomba at Fremantle on return from Active Duty in Singapore and Dutch East Indies

March 1942

 

 

 Decommissioned: 5 July 1946

 
Motto: “Fearless”

 
Honours and awards: Battle honours:

•          Pacific 1942

•          Indian Ocean 1942–44

 
Fate: Transferred to Royal Netherlands Navy

 

Acknowledgements

Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d); Mr John Perryman Sea Power Centre, Canberra ACT; National Archives of Australia; Signalman Donald Fraser and his family; The Australian War Memorial; The Hirst Family (Tasmania and Toowoomba QLD); Historical Societies of Hobart Tasmania and Carrick Tasmania; Dr Ian Pfennigwerth [Captain RAN Ret’d] and The Royal Australian Navy.

 

References

[i] Undated letter from Able Seaman Donald Fraser – commissioning signalman HMAS Toowoomba.

[ii] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geelong 2016. Pp428.

[iii] Vice Admiral Sir William Rooke Creswell RAN.

[iv] Royal Australian Navy papers 1911.

[v] Vice Admiral Sir William Rooke Creswell RAN.

[vi] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Pp. 17.

[vii] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Preface.

[viii] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Pp19

[ix] Royal Australian Navy papers 1911.

[x] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Pp. 640.

[xi] Paul Hirst’s personal papers.

[xii] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Pp. 428.

[xiii] Personal communication Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d).

[xiv] Signalman Fraser interview by Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d) for Australia’s Argonauts).

[xv] Australia’s Argonauts, Vice Admiral Peter Jones AO DSC RAN (Ret’d), Echo Books, West Geeelong 2016.  Pp. 636.

Rear Admiral Claude Lionel Cumberiege and his influence on the RAN

The Naval Historical Society was recently favoured with copies of two volumes of an unpublished five volume set comprising the autobiography of Rear Admiral Cumberiege. The volumes came from his grandson Marcus Cumberiege and cover the period the Admiral served with the RAN. It appears likely that these volumes, written in the early 1930s, were the basis for an intended autobiographical work which never surfaced.  

Claude Lionel Cumberiege was born in London on 9 June 1877, the son of Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Cumberiege of the Madras Staff Corps2and his wife Emily. This was a time when Britain and its Empire were nearing their zenith and the world was tinged in pink, emphasising its extent. A time when the burgeoning Royal Navy could do no wrong and when it had to have a fleet at least twice the size of its largest opponents, which then meant France and Russia.

What an exciting moment, on 15 January 1891, when 13 year old Claude entered the Royal Navy as a cadet in the training ship HMS Britannia. The tailor who measured him for his first uniform was none other than Mr. James Gieve, who gave his name to the iconic naval outfitters known to generations of naval officers. Two years later he was posted as a midshipman to the corvette HMS Tourmalineon the North Atlantic and West Indian Station. He developed into a tall, well built and handsome young man, good at sport, popular and attractive to the fairer sex.

After progressing to lieutenant, at age 23 on 11 September 1902 he received his first command, to HMTB 90. In Gibraltar the following year he married Miss Sarah Laetitia Crossley Couldwell, not surprisingly from a naval family. In 1905 he was appointed in command of the destroyer HMS Banshee, followed by similar postings to the destroyers HM Ships Locustand Albatross. In 1908 as a Senior Lieutenant3he received the accolade of commanding the yacht of the Commander-in-Chief Mediterranean, HMS Hussar.

His memoirs start here, perhaps too frankly, when after two successful years in Hussarand five years overall on foreign-service, he takes three months home leave. There is no mention of his wife and their two children, as an enjoyable sojourn is taken visiting previously unexplored parts of his homeland in the company of another younger woman, who stayed until funds ran dry.

Although a proud ‘Salt Horse’ Claude saw the benefits of modern technology and while past the normal age for specialist training, volunteered for gunnery courses at Whale Island. He did well and found himself, with a number of other lieutenants, appointed to the elderly cruiser HMS Hogueon the staff of the Admiral Inspector of Target Practice. With his colleagues he was sent to various ships of the Home Fleet to supervise gunnery practice. Claude discovered the joys of riding powerful German motorcycles that could take him to partiesanywhereinthekingdominafew hours. He also developed a taste for London clubs which greatly increased his growing circle of influential friends.

Commander Claude Lionel Cumberiege

Early in 1911 it was back to small ships with command of an old torpedo gunboat HMS Speedy, then being converted for minesweeping. But at the age of 34 came his promotion to Commander and he was moved to the destroyer HMS Kaleand then the delightful yacht-like HMS Fury.In October 1912 another opportunity came his way when he took command of HMS Lurcher.The latest offering to the Admiralty from the famous Yarrow shipbuilding yard, shewas the RN’s fastest ship, capable of 37 knots

 

HMAS Warrego

Here Claude was in his element when he became flotilla leader. On seeing an advertisement for an experienced destroyer captain to take command of the recently formed Royal Australian Navy destroyer flotilla, he successfully applied. Without family, he took passage to Australia in the liner SS Orontes.His fellow passengers were his first introduction to Australians and he found their accent grating, but after a while came to appreciate their lack of formality and genuine friendship, and once he got to know his men he very much appreciated their directness and general can-do attitude.

To welcome his new recruit the Australian Fleet Commander, Vice Admiral Sir George Patey arranged for HMAS Warrego to be at Adelaide when Orontes arrived. Claude was able to get a feel of his new ship by a short passage to the Spencer Gulf. Later in Melbourne, on 13 December 1913 he took command of the destroyer.

HMAS Warrego shortly after commissioning. RAN

It did not take Commander Cumberiege long to cross swords with the Australian Commonwealth Naval Board (ACNB) then domiciled in the temporary federal capital of Melbourne. Cumberiege’s Admiralty appointment was to command Warregoand the Royal Australian torpedo boat destroyer flotilla. Locally the ACNB had provided a dual appointment to the captain of the cruiser HMAS Melbourne who was also nominated Captain (D) conducting administration of the small flotilla from his ship.

As Cumberiege had been leader of a destroyer flotilla of up to 20 ships he did not take kindly to having to report to another captain for control of his then two ship flotilla (HMAS Parramattawas in refit). The matter was sorted out, with administration for the flotilla being transferred to the flagship with operational control being left to Cumberiege.

This was a busy time with the new ‘Wallaby Navy’ being shown off to the Australian public with numerous port visits, interspersed with exercises and a hectic social program. In June 1913 the Admiral took the fleet to Queensland and later made Palm Island, then uninhabited, the local headquarters. At the end of July, with war clouds looming the fleet was ordered toSydney and a few days later came news of mobilization in Germany, France and Russia, finally leading to a state of war declared between Great Britain, Germany and Austria. The Empire, including Australia, was now at war.

Having reached Brisbane on her way south, Warrego’sorders were changed to make full speed for Thursday Island to intercept a British oil tanker. The fully laden tanker Physa, on passage from the Dutch East Indies to New Zealand, was stopped and commandeered for naval use. At the same time, on leaving Sydney Melbourne intercepted the collier Alconda,which was bound for the Philippines, and took her to coal the cruisers. The Fleet, together with their recently found supply ships, made for Rossel Island off the southeast of Papua where they rendezvoused on 9 August.

New Guinea Campaign

The first landing in enemy territory was on the morning of 11 September by naval parties from Warregoand HMAS Yarra. With minimum casualties to both Australian and German colonial forces, the objective was achieved in two days when the union flag flew over German New Guinea.Warrego, then on patrol in New Ireland, captured the German coastal vessel Nusa which was later armed and for a number of years formed part of the local colonial forces. For his part Commander Cumberiege was Mentioned in Dispatches.

Loss of AE1

In relation to the recent important discovery of wreckage of the submarine AE1a verbatim copy of the record made by Commander Cumberiege is shown below.

One day one of our two submarines was missing. Customarily the submarines used to go out in turns, partly for individual exercises. I don’t know what conclusions the enquiry into the loss brought forth, but it is probable that she over-dived herself and couldn’t recover. Shipwreck can be ruled out as the weather was absolutely perfect and the sea as flat as a board, but it is possible that she hit a rock while submerged or ran into a coral wall while under water.

Besides combing the seas for days in the hope of finding her possibly broken down and drifting with quite strong currents known to be prevalent in those parts, I had searches made of lee beaches and reefs where some evidence might be expected in the way of floatable objects. Not a sign.

I went to a group of islands near which we know she must have passed and anchored by three boats in a perfect little natural harbour half a cable from the shore. I ordered a search of the fringing reef of the main island, which by the way, was flat and covered with coconut palms, while I went away in the little German yacht (Nusa) to search the ramifications of reef strewn waters.

Warren, Captain of the Parramatta with a party had landed and were engaged searching the beach when Warren happened to turn his view landward, when to his astonishment what should he see but a big yellow funnel plainly showing through the ranks of palm trees on the other side of the island. Without a moment’s hesitation he made his way back to the ship, wirelessed me the news and immediately manned and armed the boats of the flotilla, hiding however, the rifles in the bottom of the boats and hoping to make it seem as if the boats were merely landing a bathing party.

Getting round a little point which formed a charming tree-fringed bay, he judged he must be near the hidden ship and without any more camouflage gave the order and the boats raced for the presumed spot. There she was, a German Lloyds steamer, completely hidden by foliage with palm trees lashed to her mainmasts. Instantly this ship was in his hands. Hurrying back in the Nusa yacht I got on board. The German skipper, a very pleasant fellow, seemed almost relieved at being caught.

‘Three times I ventured out in the hope of getting clear away and each time I have seen one of your infernal destroyers and have had to return and replace my decorations’, he said.

That his screen of foliage and trees was admirably designed may be judged by the fact that no sign of her was evident from the place we were anchored not five hundred miles (yards) away. In an hour or so she was steaming out in company with the flotilla to be added to the collection at Rabaul harbour. I would she had been the submarine.

Now that it had been determined that the German East Asia Squadron was not in these waters the fleet was moved to Fiji, the Admiral and his cruisers chasing von Spee further east and the destroyer flotilla convoying our single submarine for the long haul to Sydney and refit after an absence of four months, with Christmas at home.

Back to New Guinea and beyond

Not long after arrival in Sydney a report was received from a POW of a plan to base a German auxiliary cruiser in the Sepik River. In less than a week the refit was stopped, leave cancelled, and the flotilla was stored and on its way back to New Guinea. En route they picked up the handy little steamer Nusa.While locals were sceptical of naval vessels hiding in the Sepik they acknowledged that the armed auxiliary Ryjasanhad hidden on the coast while the flagship HMAS Australiahad steamed past less than five miles away. Ryjasanmade her escape after dark but, short of coal, was forced into then neutral American Guam where her crew latter scuttled her.

WithNusa sounding ahead the flotilla cautiously made its way up river dodging logs and shoals, proceeding above the last major settlement of Angorum. Not wishing to risk his destroyers Commander Cumberiege trans-ferred to Nusaand achieved the remarkable featof navigating 200 nm (370 km) from the river mouth until shallows forced them to return.

Sepik River tribesmen, from photo taken at the time of the Warrego expedition.

With no enemy sighted it was back to Sydney for a well-earned rest and a now long delayed refit. Another vague report was received of possible German commerce raiders operating out of the neutral Dutch East Indies. Having completed its refit, the flotilla was sailed to investigate. With its strength being increased by the addition of the captured German governor’s yacht which had been armed and renamed HMAS Una,and taking along their tanker Esturia,they called at Timor, the Dutch East Indies and Singapore with final calls intended in French Indo-China. As Cumberiege had been promoted Post Captain it was time for a career move and he was offered the old cruiser Encounter. As she was in the vicinity Encounter was diverted to Saigon where he took command on 16 January 1916.

In another suspicious incident, naval intelligence became aware of messages filtering through from aboriginal sources in northwest Australia of a submarine hiding in a remote bay. Naval Intelligence had by now worked out a well-rehearsed answer to all its problems of ‘Sending a Gun Boat’. Accordingly Encounter,being on the west coast, was dispatched with her collier Kanna. Could this be AE1? Needless to say nothing was found except a small unknown Portuguese mission that had picture books which they sometimes showed their flock. These books had pictures of ships including submarines! An unexpected discovery was two ancient cannons thought to be Spanish or Portuguese. These were found by a boat party on an unnamed island, now called Carronade Island. Endeavourbrought the cannons back to Sydney and they are now part of the Naval Heritage Collection.

HMAS Brisbane 

His posting to Endeavour did not last long as on16 October that year he transferred to command the new ship HMAS Brisbane, then completing building at Cockatoo Island. Here go-slow tactics were being used by dockyard workers and there were suspected cases of sabotage. He had armed parties patrol the ship which helped deter some of these problems but there were further delays in the fitout of control systems, with insufficient expertise being locally available. As a result it was decided to sail the ship to Malta for completion.

During this passage Claude telegraphed his wife, who he had not seen for over three years, suggesting she might join him in Malta. For some unknown reason the message was not received and the family reunion did not occur. With the ship now fully fitted out they were ordered to backtrack through the Canal to Colombo as they were the only 6-inch cruiser available to help find a raider called Wolf.

Before departure a Sopwith Pup was embarked to help increase their radius of action. After days of searching very large areas and finding nothing of note, suddenly news was received that Wolf was a clear 5000 miles away. They were recalled to Fremantle where a convoy of great ships had been assembled awaiting clearance, despite the presence of two Japanese cruisers.

With little further activity they were more than happy to make for the Solomon Islands where there had been some unrest. Their faithful collier Kanna came along but luckily further stocks of coal were found at Ocean Island. They then visited the Gilbert and Ellice Islands (Kiribati and Tuvalu); Cumberiege really enjoyed the simplicity of life in his time here and made the point that he hoped tourist steamers never discover them.

It was back to Sydney for refit and then at long last they were on their way to England via Suez. We were on passage through the Red Sea on 11 November 1918 when news was received that the war was over. New orders were received to proceed to Mudros and after a few days to join the fleet at Constantinople. Then to Sebastopol where we were potted at by a few Bolshies, and the remains of the Russian fleet with ships half sunk was visible.

Next it was full speed down the Dardanelles and through a mined channel to Smyrna where a number of nations were trying to help, or confuse, the French who were asserting authority over this part of the old Turkish Empire. When this frustrating time came to an end they made for England.

Suddenly through a dense blanket of fog there loomed Portsmouth where our Australian ship was cheered alongside. For the first time in over five years I set foot on my native soil and saw my wife, children and mother. As a new Captain had been appointed to take Brisbane back to Australia I was on the beach.

It was then I met one of the most loveable and one of the most extraordinary characters, John Saumarez Dumaresq, who had recently been appointed in command of the Australian Squadron flying his broad pennant in the battlecruiser Australia. He was looking for a Flag Captain and told me his first choice had turned down the job, but that because of my experience he would be delighted to have me on board.

John Dumaresq was born in Rose Bay, Sydney on 26 October 1873. From a landed family in New South Wales, he was taken to England as an infant to be raised by his mother’s family. He entered the Royal Navy in 1886, later specialised in both torpedoes and gunnery and was instrumental in a number of important improvements to weapon control systems. In February 1917 he transferred on loan to the RAN as Captain of HMAS Sydney, then serving with the 2nd Light Cruiser Squadron. On 22 March 1919 he was appointed Commodore commanding the Australian Squadron, being charged with bringing Australian ships back to their homeland. It was to be another two years before we had a fleet commanded by a flag officer when Dumaresq was promoted to this rank in June 1921.

The Commodore was of small stature, but intense and one of the hardest workers. His pace was frantic and he was forever making and implementing policies which resulted in mountains of paper being showered on his staff. But those close to him realised he was a sick man with a hacking cough, and he could not forever hide blood-stained handkerchiefs which wiped away blood from his lungs. While Cumberiege tried to make him take some rest for a few hours every day he knew time was limited and was impatient to achieve as much as possible. While it could be easy to think some of the pain was self-inflicted the Commodore did not have a mean streak and neither smoked nor touched alcohol.

Portsmouth at this time was full of Australian ships being readied for their return, including the light cruisers Brisbane and Sydney and the battlecruiser Australia. In addition there was the submarine depot ship HMAS Platypus and her six J-class boats gifted to the Australian people by a grateful British Government.

HMAS Australia

In Australia, as with most of the RAN’s capital ships, the senior officers and NCOs were predominantly from the RN while the junior rates were mostly Australian. There was an air of grievance within the lower ranks who had mainly signed on for the duration of the war, or for five years, and now wanted to go home as quickly as possible. Many had had a boring war with not much happening when patrolling the North Sea and morale suffered. Disciplinary problems were increasing, with the greatest number of malcontents in the largest ship, Australia.

On 9 April 1919 Platypus and her brood were first to leave, escorted by Sydney. A week later on 17 April the flagship Australia sailed, accompanied by Brisbane. The two contingents caught up at Aden where Brisbanetook over the escort of submarine J5 which she towed most of the way home. At Aden, where only officers and petty officers were granted leave, departure of the flagship was delayed by one day to entertain a local dignitary. After making Colombo, the intended next port of call for Australia was Melbourne, where time-expired men would be discharged. However the program was changed to first visit Fremantle, giving the West Australians a chance to see their flagship.

They arrived at Fremantle on 25 May, which was the first homecoming for most of her ship’s company in more than four years. Because of scheduling changes the ship’s stay was shortened to three days. The Australian waterfront was notorious for poor industrial relations, and unfortunately this visit coincided with a dock workers strike, with the workers winning even more concessions. As a result the ship could not go alongside and was moored offshore.

After arrival, representatives of the ship’s company requested to see their Captain asking if sailing could be delayed one day so that as many as possible could have leave to visit friendsand families. The Captain replied that the request could not be considered owing to a very strict timetable of port visits.

As expected there was a huge party with thousands queuing to visit the great ship. Two days later many were reluctant to leave when there was a delay as the car bringing the Commodore back aboard had broken down. About a hundred sailors again requested their departure be delayed one further day so they could have one final run ashore to thank their hosts. Captain Cumberiege, now with his Commodore embarked, rejected the request. There was now a temporary stand-off as stokers refused to man the boiler rooms. With a couple of hours delay temporary staff was found to man the stokeholds and the ship sailed.

At the next port of call, Adelaide, the flagship anchored off Glenelg instead of the outer harbour because of a supposed influenza outbreak. The real reason was mutinous behaviour, however this and the subsequent visit to Melbourne passed without incident.

Following an investigation 32 men who had refused orders to man the engine-rooms were placed under arrest and the majority were summarily sentenced to naval imprisonment of 90 days cells. The five alleged ringleaders were court-martialled, not for mutinybutwiththelesserchargeof ‘joining in a mutiny, not accompanied by violence’.

A rare photograph of a rather tired HMAS Australiain Fremantle May 1919.

n 20 June 1919 under the presidency of Commodore John Glossop (formerly captain of Sydney). The five accused pleaded guilty and asked for leniency. Four of the five were represented by a civil lawyer and Commonwealth Parliamentarian, Richard Orchard. The fifth man was represented by another civilian lawyer and a naval officer acting as his friend. All received prison sentences varying from one to two years to be served at Goulburn Goal.

Dumaresq regarded the matter as one purely involving naval discipline and when the alleged ringleaders were released from prison through political pressure, in an unprecedented move both he and Rear Admiral Edmund Grant, the First Naval Member of the Australian Naval Board, tendered their resignations. After intense political intrigue their resignations were later withdrawn. It may be a moot point but at the time of the mutiny Australia was under Admiralty control as the ship did not revert to Commonwealth control until 1 August 1919.

Of this incident Captain Cumberiege wrote: The law, at any rate, had been upheld. Our yardarm had been cleared, though I shall always regard the whole episode as being no more than sort of schoolboy escapade and I, for one, was quite unconcerned, when a year later a Labor government released the prisoners.

Shortly after these occurrences I happened to be walking along Elizabeth Street, Sydney, when a decently dressed man, looking across the road at me, raised his hat. Not being able to place him I returned the salute and stepped across. He held out his hand, which I took, and he said: ‘You don’t remember me, sir, my name is Rudd.’ It was the ex-hero of Zeebrugge, Dalmorton Rudd,4 one of the five charged. We stepped inside for a couple (a pub for drinks).

The End is Nigh

The post-war Navy was not a happy place with cuts and more cuts and little money for fuel to take ships on exercise. The highlight of Australia’s service on return to home waters occurred in May 1920 when she led the fleet for review in Port Phillip Bay by the Prince of Wales embarked in HMS Renown.In September 1920 the Admiral transferred his flag to the more economical cruiser Melbourne and Cumberiege went across with him as Flag Captain. Australia’s days were now numbered, she decommissioned on 12 December 1921 and was placed into reserve.

In October 1921 the Admiral called me for a not unexpected interview when I was asked to make way for a younger Australian officer. The parting was swift and shortly passage was booked upon a liner which landed us at Tilbury in time for a Christmas homecoming. Here I commenced six months paid leave, a generous parting gift, after spending seven years representing Australian naval interests. A charming letter was received from the Secretary of the Admiralty offering a couple of hundred a year extra pension if I quit at once, or stay on half-pay and be automatically retired at the end of a couple of years. With restrictions being made everywhere I quickly accepted the former offer.

Rear Admiral Dumaresq was caught in conflict with the Australian Government as he sought to protect naval interests from stringent financial cuts. With his return to the Royal Navy on 29 April 1922 the RAN lost a very competent officer who had brought the fleet to a high standard of efficiency despite severe restrictions. During his return home with his invalid wife in the Japanese liner Tango Maru he fell ill with pneumonia and died in the American Military Hospital, Manila on 22 July 1922. He was buried with full military honours provided by American forces in that foreign land.

Claude Cumberieige had two marriages: the first in 1903 to Sarah Couldwell ending after 25 years with her death. This marriage produced two children, a son Claude (1905-1945) and daughter Diana. His first wife saw little of her husband but she did come to live in Sydney during the latter stage of his career. He later married Nora Kirby by whom he had a further four children. His son from the first marriage, Claude Michael Bulstrode Cumberiege was never known by his first name but always as Michael or Mike. Michael joined the merchant service and later the RNR where he served with great distinction as an agent with the Special Operations Executive. LCDR Claude Cumberiege, RD, DSO and Bar was captured behind enemy lines after the fall of Greece where he was tortured and executed. He was in charge of a small fleet of caiques used to infiltrate enemy lines and was caught when attemptingto lay mines to deny the enemy use of the Corinth Canal. Michael had married a Canadian, Nancy Wooler, and a son Marcus was born in 1938.

Retirement

On 11 July 1922, at age 45, Claude Cumberiege was placed on the Retired List, ostensibly at his own request. He was advanced to the rank of Rear Admiral on the Retired List, dated 7 August 1926. In retirement Claude became a recreational sailor and, gaining a Foreign Going Masters Certificate, he sometimes skippered chartered yachts around the continent. He acquired a former Ostend pilot boat and renamed her L’Insoumise (The Rebel) which he used in the Mediterranean. In 1931 he exchanged her for a smaller schooner, Westward, which was renamed Fleur de Lys (an emblem depicted on the Cumberiege family crest). One of his children was born in Fleur de Lys when she was storm bound.

In 1936 Cumberiege published a book, Master Mariner, a story said to be based on the life of a seafaring uncle who sailed around much of the world in a small trading brig Josephine. The following quote provides a flavour:

Knocking about the world as he did, he met all sorts and conditions of men and women. From divas to derelicts, and emperors to inebriates, maybe I have learned a bit from all of them, but most I have learned from sea captains who have told me things no shore-going loafer could ever hope to know, like the way of a ship at sea.

Was the Admiral really talking of his uncle or of life as he saw it? In Master Mariner there is possibly the first reference to the expression ‘…running around like a blue-arsed fly’, favoured by another carefree seafaring man, the Duke of Edinburgh.

On the Mediterranean coast the family entered into an active social life and went into various holiday business ventures. Cumberiege again offered his services in 1939 when aged 62 but with a surplus of retired admirals no suitable appointment was available; he then joined the Home Guard. On 22 November 1963 Claude Cumberiege died in the Balearic Islands, Spain aged 86

A Final Word

Claude Lionel Cumberiege was one of the most capable naval officers to have paced upon the quarterdeck of a warship on the Australian Station. A century has passed and he is now largely forgotten, but during his prime, covering a period of more than seven years, he commanded just about every ship in the Australian Fleet. His influence on the officers and men who followed him was immense but surprisingly there is little mention of Cumberiege, the man, and his achievements. In history he is best known with Dumaresq for involvement in the unfortunate mutiny onboard Australia. Was his lack of recognition the fault of too many commands (overall he commanded 13 ships, ranging from torpedo boats to a battlecruiser), providing an unshakeable aura of self-confidence, and possible lack of respect for others of lesser capabilities? Or was he, an upper class Englishman from the Victorian era, possibly out of touch with a new nation finding its way in a world experiencing rapid social change? According to his grandson, the Admiral would have liked to have moved to Australia in his retirement, but things didn’t work out that way when his second family appeared.

It has been a pleasure to interpret this work into a reduced format that a current generation may find of benefit. Original copies of the Cumberiege manuscript, encompassing more than two hundred pages, are held in the archives of the Naval Historical Society.

Notes:

  1. The family history spells the name Cumberlege but in the Official War History of Australia (1914-1918) and the RAN Navy List it is spelt Cumberiege. The latter spelling has been used throughout this paper.
  2. In the 1870s the Madras Presidency covered most of southern India with its own extensive army.
  3. A Senior Lieutenant with eight or more years seniority wore two stripes with a thinner stripe in between. In March 1914 the distinction disappeared when the rank of Lieutenant Commander was introduced.
  4. In February 1918 volunteers were called for a dangerous venture and Rudd, then a Leading Seaman in HMAS Australia, was one of those selected. The mission was a raid on the German U-Boat base at Zeebrugge in occupied Belgium, which resulted in heavy casualties amongst the raiding party. For his bravery during the operation Rudd was awarded the Distinguished Service Medal. Afterwards he returned to Australia.

 

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