General Discussions
This is the place to discuss general issues related to the U-boat war or the war at sea in WWII.
Re: Operation Tunnel, HMS Limbourne.
Posted by:
Lawrence
()
Date: June 13, 2002 11:14AM
<HTML>Hi
No U-boat was involved.
" It immediately became apparent that the mixed bag of British vessels was ill suited. They all possessed different capabilities and had great difficulties acting as a cohesive unit. Commanders of the destroyers were not particularly happy to be under the control of a ship that had previously only been used as an anti-aircraft platform and with no real experience of surface combat. HMS Charybdis had never had an operational role in Channel waters, and despite the fact that Captain Voelcker was considered a “first class chap”, easy going and friendly, local experience was what counted. In fact during the afternoon of the 22nd when the mission briefing was being conducted only one of the destroyer captains ¾ Lieutenant Commander Roger Hill of HMS Grenville ¾ had been able to attend, the four “Hunt” class destroyers having only just arrived in port and being in the midst of the dirty job of refuelling. Hill was furious at the tactics that were to be employed. Ordered to proceed in line astern with no zigzagging, the ships were incredibly vulnerable. HMS Charybdis was to lead, completely negating any range advantage gained through her heavier weaponry, should they be attacked. Coupled with the fact that none of the ships had ever worked together in a “Tunnel” mission and most were of no English Channel experience, he pleaded to the Staff Officer briefing him to allow the ships time to train together. With a blatant “let’s not go” from Hill, he was in no danger of being misunderstood. However he and his sound judgement were ignored, narrowly escaping an official reprimand for his comment. HMS Grenville was the only ship of the entire Task Force that had had any “Tunnel” experience at all. Lieutenant Commander Hill had advocated a looser, faster moving and agile formation with destroyers roving ahead of the heavier cruiser, scouting and looking for trouble. The superior firepower of HMS Charybdis could then engage any enemy at a greater distance while destroyers formed up for close attack. Hill in his book “Destroyer Captain” recounts that he spoke briefly with Voelcker frankly explaining the inherent problems with their impending mission. The captain of Charybdis was open to his ideas and aware that their mission was flawed. His friendly suggestion was that they iron out the problems upon their return. Despite agreement from Voelcker he rightly pointed out that there was neither time to implement a new plan or any chance of altering the existing rigid orders before the ships departed. Force 28’s second-in-command, Limbourne’s captain Acting Commander W.J.Phipps OBE RN, was among those who had not attended the mission briefing. In fact he was busy getting acquainted with his officers and crew having only joined his ship that afternoon.
Communication broke down almost instantly between the Royal Navy ships as they blundered towards the enemy. Another fact that the British may not have realized was that the orthodox tactics that they employed during the patrols leading up to the beginning of “Operation Tunnel” ¾ the same tactics to be used again ¾ were becoming routine for the Germans, allowing them to anticipate with some confidence how the Royal Navy ships would behave. Sure enough the British formed into their familiar and rigid formation, with Charybdis leading and thus vulnerable to any enemy fire, followed by Grenville, Rocket, Limbourne, Talybont, Stevenstone and finally Wensleydale. The “Hunt” destroyers were considerably slower than the first three ships, further limiting any tactical deployment.
To top off these potential disasters nature was also against the mission. Low glowering clouds scudded across the pitch-black sky, and rainsqualls further obscured vision. In the poor visibility the British ships rolled through long heavy swell making hard going for the crews, some of who had never been to sea before, recently arrived from Royal Navy training depots.
It was one of the “Hunt” class destroyers who first picked up signs of the enemy convoy. Aboard the HMS Limbourne they were able to monitor careless voice transmissions from the German escorts using “Headache” radio interception gear, a capability that, strangely enough, HMS Charybdis did not have. However despite having this capability they did not possess a qualified “Headache” operator on board and could therefore not translate the intercepted transmission. As the leader of the task force Captain Voelcker, aboard the cruiser, was informed that there was nearby enemy activity. A message was sent from HMS Limbourne ¾ “Y raw material indicates three units close”. Aboard the Charybdis nobody knew what the message meant as they had neither the interception equipment nor any trained personnel familiar with its operation and a repeat of the message was requested. No preparation was immediately made for the impending encounter. Indeed, at 0130 hrs, when the powerful radar aboard HMS Charybdis finally picked up signs of the German ships, destroyers who did not possess such efficient radar were unaware of this fact. The inferior forward-facing radar aboard the destroyers was masked by the Charybdis’s bulk. However aboard Limbourne five separate German call signs had been established. Task Force 28 was in the unusual position of the destroyers knowing there were at least five German ships nearby but they didn’t know where while the cruiser was aware that there was an enemy force seven miles ahead but did not know its composition. All the information was there for the British, but not assembled. Charybdis’s crew of the cruiser loaded all weapons and prepared themselves at Action Stations. The ship’s powerful searchlights were switched on though shuttered closed, operators waiting eagerly for the order to open the shutters and illuminate their target. Bringing his ship’s powerful engines up to maximum revolutions Voelcker broadcast the order for all ships to increase speed. Unfortunately only HMS Wensleydale picked up the message, causing great confusion as she surged past the other destroyers. Disaster was waiting in the wings. Unbeknown to the British, they were being carefully tracked by German shore based radar, which kept their convoy informed of the exact whereabouts of the approaching enemy.
The nearest set of radar images that the British were receiving were in fact five agile Torpedoboote — T22, T23, T25, T26 and T27, of 4th Torpedobooteflotille. They were acting as distant escort for the convoy and had themselves picked up the British ships on their radar. Flotilla commander 32-year old Korvettenkapitän Franz Kohlauf, a tried and tested veteran of naval operations, knew that his unit was no match for a slugging contest with the British, but he ordered guns and torpedoes cleared for action and took his five ships on an interception course for their enemy, in a flexible battle formation.
At the considerable distance of 8 100 metres HMS Charybdis fired a star shell to illuminate the German convoy. It was a little before 0140 hrs. Unfortunately the massive illumination anticipated did not materialize as the shell exploded well above the blanketing clouds. They continued on, rain lashed lookouts attempting vainly to pierce the dark and see their approaching foe. Gradually radars aboard the British destroyers began to register the contacts Charybdis had been tracking.
Aboard the leading German ship, tensions were rising. Kohlauf was unsure of whether or not his vessels had been seen yet. As they neared the British his lookouts could pick out the silhouettes of the cruiser and its flock of destroyers. What they failed to realize was that the British were trying to spot low profiles against the dark background of the French coast, looking into the approaching rainsqualls, whereas the English had no landmass behind them and so stood out against the horizon to a far greater degree. This disadvantage was highlighted by another star shell fired by the British cruiser, illuminating their own ships and not the Germans. Finally, Kohlauf gave his firing orders. In a smoothly executed manoeuvre T22, T23, T25, T26 and T27, of 4th Torpedobooteflotille, peeled away from the group, and sailed Northeast as a shielding force between the British and the rest of the German ships. Four of the German Torpedoboote fired six torpedoes each ¾ T23 the first to fire ¾ before swinging around once more to regain the convoy. Their aim was superb.
At approximately 0146 hrs the crew of HMS Charybdis sighted the telltale white arrows of torpedo tracks coming directly for them, at the same moment that a fresh and heavy squall lashed the ship. Naval rating Gerald Evans, having joined HMS Charybdis two weeks previously and one of two ratings responsible for directing searchlights on the ship’s port side, remembers sighting the approaching torpedoes.
‘I was eagerly awaiting the order to open the shutters and illuminate a target, when my eyes were drawn into the darkness of the water where four white parallel lines could be seen on the surface and approaching the ship at a very fast speed. This scene was also witnessed by Petty Officer Pitt, the ship’s physical training Instructor, he told me to hang on to something fast and tightly at the same time he bellowed “Torpedoes Portside!”’
With Voelcker ordering full port rudder, first one, and then another of the German torpedoes hit his ship. The first, originating from Kapitänleutnant Freidrich-Karl Paul’s T23 had penetrated the port hull below the torpedo tubes, flooding both number 2 dynamo and “B” boiler rooms. The electrical ring main on the port side failed and the ship assumed a 20° list while she slewed to a halt. The second torpedo, fired from Kapitänleutnant Wilhelm Verlohr’s T27, was the deadly blow. Hitting again on the port side it flooded the aft engine room, eliminated all electric power and put the ship rapidly into a 50° list. The entire upper superstructure had been jarred loose by the torpedo impacts, and became dangerously precarious.
While chaos exploded aboard HMS Charybdis it was little better elsewhere. One of the destroyers following fired rocket flares which brought into stark relief the criss-crossing trails of the remaining 22 torpedoes. With another destroyer also hit and listing, the remaining ships charged around in leaderless confusion, still running at their top speeds and in serious risk of collision. No one knew who the damaged mystery destroyer was, most believing that Rocket had been hit. Valuable minutes were lost while commanders waited for the Task Force’s second in command to take control. While this mess degenerated into complete disorder, nobody noticed the Germans quietly slip away into the night to rejoin the convoy. In fact the British never even saw their assailants during the entire incident.
Aboard the ailing cruiser, flames were taking a hold. The Executive Officer on board, Commander E.R.J. Oddie DSC, hastened from the bridge to the deck below to oversee fire control parties vainly battling the growing flames engulfing their ship. After descending into the choking smoke billowing through crowded passageways below deck, and with no communication possible between his position and the bridge, he ordered crewmen around him to abandon ship. At the ship’s main switchboard all of Charybdis’s systems were failing. As the order to abandon ship came members of the switchboard crew finished their duties and made an orderly exit to the upper deck, closing watertight doors behind them as they ensured no one was left behind. There was considerable confusion as men attempted to escape from what was rapidly becoming an inferno within the bowels of the cruiser. Atop the bridge Captain Voelcker gave the order for all men present to proceed below to the weather deck, remaining alone in his ruined command centre. As men assembled on the crazily tilting deck below, the ship began to settle deeply by the stern and list still further to port. There was no choice and a final order for all personnel to abandon ship was given. Men were able to slide gently down the dying cruiser’s port flank, stopping at the exposed bilge keel to inflate life belts and jump into the cold Breton water.
As the men raced to vacate their doomed vessel her bows gradually rose out of the water until they were nearly vertical. By closing watertight doors and hatches during the evacuation the bow of HMS Charybdis was able to remain afloat allowing many men precious time to escape. She remained like that — stricken and despairing — for nearly half an hour before sliding stern first beneath the surface. All thoughts of pursuing the German convoy were forgotten as the British task force gathered around to search for survivors. Only 107 men were saved, Captain Voelcker not among them. He was last seen in the water shouting encouragement to his tired and shocked men. To add to the English ships’ woes, the mystery casualty had been identified — HMS Limbourne had been hit as well.
Built by ‘Alex Stephens & Son Ltd’ in Govan, Glasgow, HMS Limbourne was a fast Type 3 “Hunt” class anti-aircraft destroyer. British destroyers of World War two had five general duties: covering force for fleet operations; convoy protection; mine laying; general evacuation and miscellaneous duties; and finally anti-aircraft work. HMS Limbourne was specifically designed for the latter. With her keel laid on 8th April 1940, as part of that year’s building program, she was launched on 12th May 1942. Finally late in the following October she was completed and sailed to Scapa Flow for working up. Capable of nearly 29 knots, this nicely lined destroyer was armed with a respectable array of weapons: four 4 inch (101.6mm) twin mounted anti-aircraft cannon, one 2-pounder quad pom-pom, three single barrel Oerlikons and one 21 inch (533.4mm) torpedo tube, for which she carried two torpedoes. The provision of this torpedo tube was a variant on earlier ‘Hunt’ destroyers that lacked this weapon, so often the most powerful surface-to-surface firepower available to smaller warships. Rounding out her offensive armament were 50 depth charges, spread between three racks and four throwers, for anti-submarine warfare.
After her period in Scapa, HMS Limbourne was attached to 1st Destroyer Flotilla based at Portsmouth. Her initial duties were general escort sailings, until December of 1942, when she was transferred to 15th Destroyer Flotilla and moved to her new homeport of Plymouth. Immediately after her transfer, she took part in “Operation Valuable” — offensive interception of enemy shipping in the English Channel.
From the beginning of 1943 she was constantly active. HMS Limbourne had escorted convoys between Gibraltar and North Africa as part of the ‘Torch’ landings, before returning to Plymouth in February for a propeller change. The rest of her service during 1943 revolved around missions in the Mediterranean, Bay of Biscay and English Channel, as escort, submarine hunter, and in general anti-shipping sweeps. During September she clashed with patrolling Schnellboote claiming one of the fast German vessels destroyed during the brief combat. The following month saw her in action alongside four other Royal Navy destroyers against German Torpedoboote T22, T23, T25 and T27 North of Morlaix, claiming to have hit and damaged one of her adversaries . Finally, on 21st October, HMS Limbourne was attached to Force 28 for an “Operation Tunnel” offensive sweep of Brittany’s North coast at the same time that she received her new commander. Limbourne and her companion ships sailed from Plymouth on 22nd October for their fateful patrol. Nothing was felt to be amiss with their mission amongst the crew. In the words of Radar Operator Charles Wivell:
“The trip started off as had so often before, but this time we had some heavy friends with us and we were so very much sure of ourselves.”
The end for HMS Limbourne began with the thud of an exploding torpedo against her bow at 0152 hrs. The gunnery officers of T22, commanded by Kapitänleutnant Hans Blöse, had hit their target. Neil Wood, Radar Operator of the ship’s 286 Radar, which was housed on the ship’s upper deck of the forecastle at the foot of the mainmast, remembers:
“The “Headache” operator was also picking up German radio messages which confirmed that the radar echoes being picked up were enemy ships. We were closing range on these new echoes when suddenly we saw on our screens that ships in our group were changing course. Just as Limbourne had started to turn hard to port, I heard the port-side Oerlikon gunner shout ‘Torpedo on the port quarter’. It seemed that no sooner had he shouted this warning when there was an almighty bang.”
Her entire bow was blown away, but she remained watertight thanks to the strong boiler room bulkhead. Initially, although she ground to a halt, she still had power and looked capable of remaining afloat. But it was not to last. Seawater gradually seeped into her oil fuel contaminating the supply, the immediate effect of which was felt when suddenly the ship’s power failed. Her captain Commander W.J.Phipps OBE RN had suffered severe concussion from the blast of the torpedo detonation, as had the ship’s First Lieutenant D.V.B. Unwin. The onus of command thus fell upon Sub Lieutenant D.H. Cunliffe-Owen RN who reacted to the situation with skill and control. Gradually under his direction steam was restored and therefore some measure of power to the ship’s systems. Communications were also now functioning, but emerging hopes of returning to England aboard the mutilated ship were dashed when it was discovered that her steering was irreparably damaged. She could move, but only in a huge lazy circle. Cunliffe-Owen became aware that they were drifting perilously close to occupied France, now only some 5 miles distant, and bristling with heavy artillery. Ordering the ship’s boats swung out in the event that evacuation became necessary, attempts were made to put HMS Limbourne under tow by HMS Talybont after she had taken on board all wounded men and those not necessary for the towing procedure. The efforts were in vain however, first attempt at towing from Limbourne’s stern produced too much drag from the damaged ship and she slewed uncontrollably. The second attempt connected to the remains of her bow was no more effective and the idea was abandoned, the remainder of Limbourne’s crew taken off her by 0510 hrs.
Meanwhile the other destroyers had begun fishing survivors from the water. Lieutenant Commander Hill had communicated with C-in-C Plymouth what had happened and asked for fighter protection for first light. The reply was received at 0347 hrs “If no contact with enemy by 0430hrs at your discretion search for survivors leave area by 0530. Fighter protection ordered at dawn”. The remaining destroyers circled, plucking chilled and wounded men from the sea. The Breton waters were extremely cold and many succumbed to exposure and fatigue. Petty Officer Alan Cowley, whose duty station had been the main switchboard within HMS Charybdis remembers:
“The worst things I remember was the cold and the oil which seemed to cling to everything and took three showers and a bath before I was reasonably clean. I think I survived mainly because I went to action stations always with a flask of rum. This I drank when I was in the water so somewhere down there near the “CheryB” is a leather coated flask with a silver top that my Grandmother had given me.”
The rescuers were in a dangerous position, drifting closer to the enemy’s coast, but they continued with unflinching determination, many men owing their lives to their deeds, in particular crewmen of HMS Wensleydale some of who dangled on the end of ropes to catch exhausted men in their arms.
Finally at 0640 hrs, after being completely abandoned, the shattered drifting hulk of HMS Limbourne was sent to the deep by torpedoes fired from HMS Talybont and HMS Rocket ¾ the only shots fired by the British during the skirmish, apart from flares. Of the ships company only 103 survived, while none of the dead were ever recovered from the sea. The shattered Task Force then raced back to Plymouth where survivors of the sunken ships were transferred to naval barracks HMS Drake.
The first Royal Navy foray as part of “Operation Tunnel” had fallen apart at the seams. But the British learned from their mistakes and were determined to have no repeat of this fiasco. Force 28 was eventually disbanded, its place in the frontline taken by the newly raised Force 26. Again it was made up of a combination of destroyers and a single anti-aircraft cruiser, but the difference now lay in the unit’s cohesion. Trained to operate as a single unit, and drilled in both mutual fire support and communications, the lessons from the disaster of the Charybdis and Limbourne sinkings were forming the foundation of a superior future strategy for the naval task force "</HTML>
No U-boat was involved.
" It immediately became apparent that the mixed bag of British vessels was ill suited. They all possessed different capabilities and had great difficulties acting as a cohesive unit. Commanders of the destroyers were not particularly happy to be under the control of a ship that had previously only been used as an anti-aircraft platform and with no real experience of surface combat. HMS Charybdis had never had an operational role in Channel waters, and despite the fact that Captain Voelcker was considered a “first class chap”, easy going and friendly, local experience was what counted. In fact during the afternoon of the 22nd when the mission briefing was being conducted only one of the destroyer captains ¾ Lieutenant Commander Roger Hill of HMS Grenville ¾ had been able to attend, the four “Hunt” class destroyers having only just arrived in port and being in the midst of the dirty job of refuelling. Hill was furious at the tactics that were to be employed. Ordered to proceed in line astern with no zigzagging, the ships were incredibly vulnerable. HMS Charybdis was to lead, completely negating any range advantage gained through her heavier weaponry, should they be attacked. Coupled with the fact that none of the ships had ever worked together in a “Tunnel” mission and most were of no English Channel experience, he pleaded to the Staff Officer briefing him to allow the ships time to train together. With a blatant “let’s not go” from Hill, he was in no danger of being misunderstood. However he and his sound judgement were ignored, narrowly escaping an official reprimand for his comment. HMS Grenville was the only ship of the entire Task Force that had had any “Tunnel” experience at all. Lieutenant Commander Hill had advocated a looser, faster moving and agile formation with destroyers roving ahead of the heavier cruiser, scouting and looking for trouble. The superior firepower of HMS Charybdis could then engage any enemy at a greater distance while destroyers formed up for close attack. Hill in his book “Destroyer Captain” recounts that he spoke briefly with Voelcker frankly explaining the inherent problems with their impending mission. The captain of Charybdis was open to his ideas and aware that their mission was flawed. His friendly suggestion was that they iron out the problems upon their return. Despite agreement from Voelcker he rightly pointed out that there was neither time to implement a new plan or any chance of altering the existing rigid orders before the ships departed. Force 28’s second-in-command, Limbourne’s captain Acting Commander W.J.Phipps OBE RN, was among those who had not attended the mission briefing. In fact he was busy getting acquainted with his officers and crew having only joined his ship that afternoon.
Communication broke down almost instantly between the Royal Navy ships as they blundered towards the enemy. Another fact that the British may not have realized was that the orthodox tactics that they employed during the patrols leading up to the beginning of “Operation Tunnel” ¾ the same tactics to be used again ¾ were becoming routine for the Germans, allowing them to anticipate with some confidence how the Royal Navy ships would behave. Sure enough the British formed into their familiar and rigid formation, with Charybdis leading and thus vulnerable to any enemy fire, followed by Grenville, Rocket, Limbourne, Talybont, Stevenstone and finally Wensleydale. The “Hunt” destroyers were considerably slower than the first three ships, further limiting any tactical deployment.
To top off these potential disasters nature was also against the mission. Low glowering clouds scudded across the pitch-black sky, and rainsqualls further obscured vision. In the poor visibility the British ships rolled through long heavy swell making hard going for the crews, some of who had never been to sea before, recently arrived from Royal Navy training depots.
It was one of the “Hunt” class destroyers who first picked up signs of the enemy convoy. Aboard the HMS Limbourne they were able to monitor careless voice transmissions from the German escorts using “Headache” radio interception gear, a capability that, strangely enough, HMS Charybdis did not have. However despite having this capability they did not possess a qualified “Headache” operator on board and could therefore not translate the intercepted transmission. As the leader of the task force Captain Voelcker, aboard the cruiser, was informed that there was nearby enemy activity. A message was sent from HMS Limbourne ¾ “Y raw material indicates three units close”. Aboard the Charybdis nobody knew what the message meant as they had neither the interception equipment nor any trained personnel familiar with its operation and a repeat of the message was requested. No preparation was immediately made for the impending encounter. Indeed, at 0130 hrs, when the powerful radar aboard HMS Charybdis finally picked up signs of the German ships, destroyers who did not possess such efficient radar were unaware of this fact. The inferior forward-facing radar aboard the destroyers was masked by the Charybdis’s bulk. However aboard Limbourne five separate German call signs had been established. Task Force 28 was in the unusual position of the destroyers knowing there were at least five German ships nearby but they didn’t know where while the cruiser was aware that there was an enemy force seven miles ahead but did not know its composition. All the information was there for the British, but not assembled. Charybdis’s crew of the cruiser loaded all weapons and prepared themselves at Action Stations. The ship’s powerful searchlights were switched on though shuttered closed, operators waiting eagerly for the order to open the shutters and illuminate their target. Bringing his ship’s powerful engines up to maximum revolutions Voelcker broadcast the order for all ships to increase speed. Unfortunately only HMS Wensleydale picked up the message, causing great confusion as she surged past the other destroyers. Disaster was waiting in the wings. Unbeknown to the British, they were being carefully tracked by German shore based radar, which kept their convoy informed of the exact whereabouts of the approaching enemy.
The nearest set of radar images that the British were receiving were in fact five agile Torpedoboote — T22, T23, T25, T26 and T27, of 4th Torpedobooteflotille. They were acting as distant escort for the convoy and had themselves picked up the British ships on their radar. Flotilla commander 32-year old Korvettenkapitän Franz Kohlauf, a tried and tested veteran of naval operations, knew that his unit was no match for a slugging contest with the British, but he ordered guns and torpedoes cleared for action and took his five ships on an interception course for their enemy, in a flexible battle formation.
At the considerable distance of 8 100 metres HMS Charybdis fired a star shell to illuminate the German convoy. It was a little before 0140 hrs. Unfortunately the massive illumination anticipated did not materialize as the shell exploded well above the blanketing clouds. They continued on, rain lashed lookouts attempting vainly to pierce the dark and see their approaching foe. Gradually radars aboard the British destroyers began to register the contacts Charybdis had been tracking.
Aboard the leading German ship, tensions were rising. Kohlauf was unsure of whether or not his vessels had been seen yet. As they neared the British his lookouts could pick out the silhouettes of the cruiser and its flock of destroyers. What they failed to realize was that the British were trying to spot low profiles against the dark background of the French coast, looking into the approaching rainsqualls, whereas the English had no landmass behind them and so stood out against the horizon to a far greater degree. This disadvantage was highlighted by another star shell fired by the British cruiser, illuminating their own ships and not the Germans. Finally, Kohlauf gave his firing orders. In a smoothly executed manoeuvre T22, T23, T25, T26 and T27, of 4th Torpedobooteflotille, peeled away from the group, and sailed Northeast as a shielding force between the British and the rest of the German ships. Four of the German Torpedoboote fired six torpedoes each ¾ T23 the first to fire ¾ before swinging around once more to regain the convoy. Their aim was superb.
At approximately 0146 hrs the crew of HMS Charybdis sighted the telltale white arrows of torpedo tracks coming directly for them, at the same moment that a fresh and heavy squall lashed the ship. Naval rating Gerald Evans, having joined HMS Charybdis two weeks previously and one of two ratings responsible for directing searchlights on the ship’s port side, remembers sighting the approaching torpedoes.
‘I was eagerly awaiting the order to open the shutters and illuminate a target, when my eyes were drawn into the darkness of the water where four white parallel lines could be seen on the surface and approaching the ship at a very fast speed. This scene was also witnessed by Petty Officer Pitt, the ship’s physical training Instructor, he told me to hang on to something fast and tightly at the same time he bellowed “Torpedoes Portside!”’
With Voelcker ordering full port rudder, first one, and then another of the German torpedoes hit his ship. The first, originating from Kapitänleutnant Freidrich-Karl Paul’s T23 had penetrated the port hull below the torpedo tubes, flooding both number 2 dynamo and “B” boiler rooms. The electrical ring main on the port side failed and the ship assumed a 20° list while she slewed to a halt. The second torpedo, fired from Kapitänleutnant Wilhelm Verlohr’s T27, was the deadly blow. Hitting again on the port side it flooded the aft engine room, eliminated all electric power and put the ship rapidly into a 50° list. The entire upper superstructure had been jarred loose by the torpedo impacts, and became dangerously precarious.
While chaos exploded aboard HMS Charybdis it was little better elsewhere. One of the destroyers following fired rocket flares which brought into stark relief the criss-crossing trails of the remaining 22 torpedoes. With another destroyer also hit and listing, the remaining ships charged around in leaderless confusion, still running at their top speeds and in serious risk of collision. No one knew who the damaged mystery destroyer was, most believing that Rocket had been hit. Valuable minutes were lost while commanders waited for the Task Force’s second in command to take control. While this mess degenerated into complete disorder, nobody noticed the Germans quietly slip away into the night to rejoin the convoy. In fact the British never even saw their assailants during the entire incident.
Aboard the ailing cruiser, flames were taking a hold. The Executive Officer on board, Commander E.R.J. Oddie DSC, hastened from the bridge to the deck below to oversee fire control parties vainly battling the growing flames engulfing their ship. After descending into the choking smoke billowing through crowded passageways below deck, and with no communication possible between his position and the bridge, he ordered crewmen around him to abandon ship. At the ship’s main switchboard all of Charybdis’s systems were failing. As the order to abandon ship came members of the switchboard crew finished their duties and made an orderly exit to the upper deck, closing watertight doors behind them as they ensured no one was left behind. There was considerable confusion as men attempted to escape from what was rapidly becoming an inferno within the bowels of the cruiser. Atop the bridge Captain Voelcker gave the order for all men present to proceed below to the weather deck, remaining alone in his ruined command centre. As men assembled on the crazily tilting deck below, the ship began to settle deeply by the stern and list still further to port. There was no choice and a final order for all personnel to abandon ship was given. Men were able to slide gently down the dying cruiser’s port flank, stopping at the exposed bilge keel to inflate life belts and jump into the cold Breton water.
As the men raced to vacate their doomed vessel her bows gradually rose out of the water until they were nearly vertical. By closing watertight doors and hatches during the evacuation the bow of HMS Charybdis was able to remain afloat allowing many men precious time to escape. She remained like that — stricken and despairing — for nearly half an hour before sliding stern first beneath the surface. All thoughts of pursuing the German convoy were forgotten as the British task force gathered around to search for survivors. Only 107 men were saved, Captain Voelcker not among them. He was last seen in the water shouting encouragement to his tired and shocked men. To add to the English ships’ woes, the mystery casualty had been identified — HMS Limbourne had been hit as well.
Built by ‘Alex Stephens & Son Ltd’ in Govan, Glasgow, HMS Limbourne was a fast Type 3 “Hunt” class anti-aircraft destroyer. British destroyers of World War two had five general duties: covering force for fleet operations; convoy protection; mine laying; general evacuation and miscellaneous duties; and finally anti-aircraft work. HMS Limbourne was specifically designed for the latter. With her keel laid on 8th April 1940, as part of that year’s building program, she was launched on 12th May 1942. Finally late in the following October she was completed and sailed to Scapa Flow for working up. Capable of nearly 29 knots, this nicely lined destroyer was armed with a respectable array of weapons: four 4 inch (101.6mm) twin mounted anti-aircraft cannon, one 2-pounder quad pom-pom, three single barrel Oerlikons and one 21 inch (533.4mm) torpedo tube, for which she carried two torpedoes. The provision of this torpedo tube was a variant on earlier ‘Hunt’ destroyers that lacked this weapon, so often the most powerful surface-to-surface firepower available to smaller warships. Rounding out her offensive armament were 50 depth charges, spread between three racks and four throwers, for anti-submarine warfare.
After her period in Scapa, HMS Limbourne was attached to 1st Destroyer Flotilla based at Portsmouth. Her initial duties were general escort sailings, until December of 1942, when she was transferred to 15th Destroyer Flotilla and moved to her new homeport of Plymouth. Immediately after her transfer, she took part in “Operation Valuable” — offensive interception of enemy shipping in the English Channel.
From the beginning of 1943 she was constantly active. HMS Limbourne had escorted convoys between Gibraltar and North Africa as part of the ‘Torch’ landings, before returning to Plymouth in February for a propeller change. The rest of her service during 1943 revolved around missions in the Mediterranean, Bay of Biscay and English Channel, as escort, submarine hunter, and in general anti-shipping sweeps. During September she clashed with patrolling Schnellboote claiming one of the fast German vessels destroyed during the brief combat. The following month saw her in action alongside four other Royal Navy destroyers against German Torpedoboote T22, T23, T25 and T27 North of Morlaix, claiming to have hit and damaged one of her adversaries . Finally, on 21st October, HMS Limbourne was attached to Force 28 for an “Operation Tunnel” offensive sweep of Brittany’s North coast at the same time that she received her new commander. Limbourne and her companion ships sailed from Plymouth on 22nd October for their fateful patrol. Nothing was felt to be amiss with their mission amongst the crew. In the words of Radar Operator Charles Wivell:
“The trip started off as had so often before, but this time we had some heavy friends with us and we were so very much sure of ourselves.”
The end for HMS Limbourne began with the thud of an exploding torpedo against her bow at 0152 hrs. The gunnery officers of T22, commanded by Kapitänleutnant Hans Blöse, had hit their target. Neil Wood, Radar Operator of the ship’s 286 Radar, which was housed on the ship’s upper deck of the forecastle at the foot of the mainmast, remembers:
“The “Headache” operator was also picking up German radio messages which confirmed that the radar echoes being picked up were enemy ships. We were closing range on these new echoes when suddenly we saw on our screens that ships in our group were changing course. Just as Limbourne had started to turn hard to port, I heard the port-side Oerlikon gunner shout ‘Torpedo on the port quarter’. It seemed that no sooner had he shouted this warning when there was an almighty bang.”
Her entire bow was blown away, but she remained watertight thanks to the strong boiler room bulkhead. Initially, although she ground to a halt, she still had power and looked capable of remaining afloat. But it was not to last. Seawater gradually seeped into her oil fuel contaminating the supply, the immediate effect of which was felt when suddenly the ship’s power failed. Her captain Commander W.J.Phipps OBE RN had suffered severe concussion from the blast of the torpedo detonation, as had the ship’s First Lieutenant D.V.B. Unwin. The onus of command thus fell upon Sub Lieutenant D.H. Cunliffe-Owen RN who reacted to the situation with skill and control. Gradually under his direction steam was restored and therefore some measure of power to the ship’s systems. Communications were also now functioning, but emerging hopes of returning to England aboard the mutilated ship were dashed when it was discovered that her steering was irreparably damaged. She could move, but only in a huge lazy circle. Cunliffe-Owen became aware that they were drifting perilously close to occupied France, now only some 5 miles distant, and bristling with heavy artillery. Ordering the ship’s boats swung out in the event that evacuation became necessary, attempts were made to put HMS Limbourne under tow by HMS Talybont after she had taken on board all wounded men and those not necessary for the towing procedure. The efforts were in vain however, first attempt at towing from Limbourne’s stern produced too much drag from the damaged ship and she slewed uncontrollably. The second attempt connected to the remains of her bow was no more effective and the idea was abandoned, the remainder of Limbourne’s crew taken off her by 0510 hrs.
Meanwhile the other destroyers had begun fishing survivors from the water. Lieutenant Commander Hill had communicated with C-in-C Plymouth what had happened and asked for fighter protection for first light. The reply was received at 0347 hrs “If no contact with enemy by 0430hrs at your discretion search for survivors leave area by 0530. Fighter protection ordered at dawn”. The remaining destroyers circled, plucking chilled and wounded men from the sea. The Breton waters were extremely cold and many succumbed to exposure and fatigue. Petty Officer Alan Cowley, whose duty station had been the main switchboard within HMS Charybdis remembers:
“The worst things I remember was the cold and the oil which seemed to cling to everything and took three showers and a bath before I was reasonably clean. I think I survived mainly because I went to action stations always with a flask of rum. This I drank when I was in the water so somewhere down there near the “CheryB” is a leather coated flask with a silver top that my Grandmother had given me.”
The rescuers were in a dangerous position, drifting closer to the enemy’s coast, but they continued with unflinching determination, many men owing their lives to their deeds, in particular crewmen of HMS Wensleydale some of who dangled on the end of ropes to catch exhausted men in their arms.
Finally at 0640 hrs, after being completely abandoned, the shattered drifting hulk of HMS Limbourne was sent to the deep by torpedoes fired from HMS Talybont and HMS Rocket ¾ the only shots fired by the British during the skirmish, apart from flares. Of the ships company only 103 survived, while none of the dead were ever recovered from the sea. The shattered Task Force then raced back to Plymouth where survivors of the sunken ships were transferred to naval barracks HMS Drake.
The first Royal Navy foray as part of “Operation Tunnel” had fallen apart at the seams. But the British learned from their mistakes and were determined to have no repeat of this fiasco. Force 28 was eventually disbanded, its place in the frontline taken by the newly raised Force 26. Again it was made up of a combination of destroyers and a single anti-aircraft cruiser, but the difference now lay in the unit’s cohesion. Trained to operate as a single unit, and drilled in both mutual fire support and communications, the lessons from the disaster of the Charybdis and Limbourne sinkings were forming the foundation of a superior future strategy for the naval task force "</HTML>
| Subject | Written By | Posted |
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Operation Tunnel, HMS Limbourne.
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Vin | 06/13/2002 08:34AM |
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Re: Operation Tunnel, HMS Limbourne.
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Lawrence | 06/13/2002 11:14AM |
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Re: Operation Tunnel, HMS Limbourne.
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Frederick O'Boyle | 08/02/2007 02:10PM |
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Re: Operation Tunnel, HMS Limbourne.
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Steve Fraser | 09/26/2020 07:18PM |
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Re: Operation Tunnel, HMS Limbourne.
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Christopher Hurst | 03/03/2021 10:08AM |
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Re: Operation Tunnel, HMS Limbourne.
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phil morgan | 03/04/2021 03:56PM |
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Re: Operation Tunnel, HMS Limbourne.
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Antonio Veiga | 06/13/2002 06:26PM |
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Re: Operation Tunnel, HMS Limbourne.
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Vin | 06/13/2002 11:06PM |