Sink the tirpitz 1942–44: the raf and fleet air arm duel with germany's mighty battleship 1st editio
Sink
the Tirpitz
The RAF and Fleet Air Arm Duel with Germany's Mighty Battleship 1st Edition Angus Konstam
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Sinking Force Z 1941: The Day The Imperial Japanese Navy Killed The Battleship 1st Edition Angus Konstam
The RAF and Fleet Air Arm duel with Germany’s mighty battleship
ANGUS KONSTAM | ILLUSTRATED BY JIM LAURIER
AIR CAMPAIGN
SINK THE TIRPITZ
1942–44
The RAF and Fleet Air Arm duel with Germany’s mighty battleship
Angus Konstam
INTRODUCTION
The Tirpitz, photographed during her brief stay in the Bodenfjord near Narvik, during the late summer of 1942. This picturesque fjord was used as a rendezvous and repair area by the Kriegsmarine, as it lay beyond easy reach of British bombers.
In May 1941 the world’s attention focused on the German battleship Bismarck , and her brief but deadly sortie into the Atlantic Ocean. She was the most modern battleship afloat, and while the Nazi propaganda machine dubbed her ‘unsinkable’, she was eventually hunted down and destroyed by the Royal Navy. This victory, though, came at a terrible cost – the loss of the battlecruiser Hood , and all but three of her crew. By then, the British Admiralty were uncomfortably aware that this formidable battleship had a sister ship – the Tirpitz , which was undergoing sea trials in the Baltic. She was so powerful she was capable of sinking any capital ship in the British Home Fleet, and if she joined forces with other major German warships she could alter the course of the war at sea.
Air attacks against her had begun when she was still under construction, but these were both half-hearted and unsuccessful. Then, the threat she posed became more than just theoretical. This was a direct result of the German invasion of Russia in June 1941. Two months later the first Arctic Convoy arrived in Archangel. This maritime lifeline was as much a diplomatic enterprise as a military one, carrying military hardware and supplies from Britain, Canada and the United States to the Soviet Union, to help it stave off the German onslaught. When in January 1942 the Tirpitz sailed to Norway, she represented a major threat to this vital convoy route. So, Churchill ordered that she should be destroyed. The Royal Navy could only bring her to battle if she put to sea, so this meant she had to be attacked from the air, in her lair at the end of a remote Norwegian fjord.
The British Home Fleet was forced to retain battleships and aircraft carriers in the area to protect the Arctic Convoys from attack by Tirpitz, the German battleship rarely put to sea. So, this would primarily be an air campaign, where the performance of the various types of aircraft used against her would be critical to the success of the operation. Even more important was the ordnance they could use against her, and the skill of the air crews who would direct it against the battleship.
The intermittent air campaign against Tirpitz lasted for more than two and a half years. These desperate attacks involved hundreds of aircraft from both Bomber Command and the Fleet Air Arm, and a range of aircraft and ordnance. Attacking the Tirpitz in her various Norwegian lairs was never going to be easy. Planners had to contend with a number of problems, including the range to the target, the defensive capabilities of the defences surrounding Tirpitz, and the geography of her berth. Then there were the problems caused by the highly changeable weather over Norway, combined with huge seasonal variations in the amount of daylight. Even if all these challenges were overcome, any attacking force still had to deal with the ship herself, one of the best-protected warships in existence, and one which mounted a formidable array of anti-aircraft guns. Of all these factors, the biggest constraint was range. While Tirpitz’s first base in the Faettenfjord near Trondheim was within range of British heavy bombers flying from airfields in the north-east of Scotland, her second lair in the Kaafjord, a spur of the larger Altenfjord at the northernmost tip of Norway, was out of range. So, innovative solutions had to be found to overcome these problems.
It was arguably the most sustained air operation of the war, but the mighty German battleship proved remarkably resilient. So, for much of the war she remained a ‘fleet in being’, forcing the Allies to tie down warships which were vitally needed in other theatres. Tirpitz finally succumbed in November 1944, sunk by mammoth bombs dropped by 617 ‘Dambusters’ Squadron. While her career was not as spectacular as that of her famous sister ship, it was much longer, and her impact on the course of the war was considerably greater.
This photograph, taken from the highest crane in the naval yard, shows Tirpitz during the early stages of her fitting out in the Kriegsmarinewerft Wilhelmshaven. Her superstructure is being erected, on top of her thick armoured deck, which was located two decks below her upper deck. The barbettes of her main and secondary gun turrets are already in place.
CHRONOLOGY
1936
2 November Tirpitz laid down in Wilhelmshaven.
1939
1 April Tirpitz launched.
3 September Britain declares war on Germany.
1940
8/9 October RAF bombers attack Wilhelmshaven. No hits on Tirpitz.
1941
8/9 January RAF bombers attack Wilhelmshaven. No hits on Tirpitz.
29/30 January RAF bombers attack Wilhelmshaven. No hits on Tirpitz.
25 February Tirpitz commissioned.
28 February/1 March RAF bombers attack Wilhelmshaven. No hits on Tirpitz
6 March Tirpitz transits the Kaiser Wilhelm Canal to Kiel, to begin sea trials in the Baltic.
27 May Bismarck sunk by warships of the British Home Fleet.
28/29 May RAF bombers attack Kiel. No hits on Tirpitz.
20/21 June RAF bombers attack Kiel. No hits on Tirpitz
22 June Operation Barbarossa – German invasion of the Soviet Union begins.
21–31 August Operation Dervish – first Arctic Convoy sails to northern Russia.
1942
15 January Tirpitz arrives in the Faettenfjord.
30/31 January Operation Oiled – RAF attack on Tirpitz in the Faettenfjord. No hits.
6–9 March Operation Sportpalast – Tirpitz sorties in attempt to attack Convoy PQ-12.
9 March Torpedo attack on Tirpitz off Lofoten Islands by aircraft from HMS Victorious
30/31 March RAF attack on Tirpitz in the Faettenfjord. No hits.
27/28 April RAF attack on Tirpitz in the Faettenfjord. No hits.
28/29 April RAF attack on Tirpitz in the Faettenfjord. No hits.
2 July Tirpitz sails from Faettenfjord to the Altenfjord, during Operation Rösselsprung, the German operation to destroy Convoy PQ-17.
5–6 July Tirpitz sorties from the Altenfjord, in attempt to intercept Convoy PQ-17.
9 July Tirpitz arrives in the Bogenfjord, near Narvik.
24 October Tirpitz returns to the Faettenfjord.
30/31 October Operation Title – underwater attack on Tirpitz in the Faettenfjord using human torpedoes; aborted due to bad weather.
1943
11–13 March Tirpitz moves north to the Bogenfjord, to join Scharnhorst
22–24 March Tirpitz proceeds from the Bogenfjord to the Kaafjord, at the end of the Altenfjord. This will become her new ‘lair’.
22 September Operation Source – underwater attack on Tirpitz in the Kaafjord using midget submarines (X-Craft). Tirpitz badly damaged.
29 September Tirpitz commences a lengthy period of self-repair, to render her operational again.
1944
10/11 February Soviet Air Force attack on Tirpitz in Kaafjord. No hits.
3 April Operation Tungsten – naval air strike on Tirpitz in the Kaafjord. Battleship damaged.
24 April Operation Planet – naval air strike cancelled due to bad weather.
15 May Operation Brawn – naval air strike cancelled due to bad weather.
28 May Operation Tiger Claw – naval air strike cancelled due to bad weather.
17 July Operation Mascot – naval air strike on Tirpitz in the Kaafjord. No hits.
22 August Operation Goodwood I – naval air strike on Tirpitz in the Kaafjord. No hits. Followed by Operation Goodwood II – naval air strike on Tirpitz in the Kaafjord. No hits.
24 August Operation Goodwood III – naval air strike on Tirpitz in the Kaafjord. Battleship slightly damaged.
29 August Operation Goodwood IV – naval air strike on Tirpitz in the Kaafjord. No hits.
15 September Operation Paravane – RAF attack on Tirpitz in the Kaafjord. Battleship badly damaged.
15–16 October Tirpitz moves from Kaafjord to new moorings off Haakøy Island, near Tromsø.
29 October Operation Obviate – RAF attack on Tirpitz off Haakøy Island. Battleship slightly damaged.
12 November Operation Catechism – Tirpitz sunk off Haakøy Island near Tromsø. Up to 1,000 of her crew are killed in the attack or its aftermath.
The funnel of Tirpitz being lifted into place during her fitting out in the Kriegsmarinewerft (Naval Shipyard) Wilhelmshaven. The battleship’s forward superstructure is already in place, while the foreground is dominated by the heavily armoured barbette ring of ‘Dora’ turret.
ATTACKERS’ CAPABILITIES TO SINK A BATTLESHIP
Aircraft of Bomber Command
The Short Stirling was one of the three British fourengined bombers produced according to the Air Ministry’s specifications. The Stirling was used in the first RAF bombing raid on the Tirpitz in January 1942, while she was moored in the Faettenfjord. The Stirling’s major disadvantage when compared to the Halifax and the Lancaster was its low ceiling.
From the outset Bomber Command decided to attack Tirpitz using four-engined heavy bombers. Smaller twin-engined bombers lacked the range. In 1942 that meant the Short Stirling, the Handley Page Halifax or the brand-new Avro Lancaster. Of these the Stirling and the Halifax were broadly similar in terms of performance. However, the Stirling had a ceiling of just 16,500ft, while the other two heavy bombers could fly at least 5,000ft higher. This made the Stirling more susceptible to enemy flak. Both the Stirling and the Halifax carried a similar-sized payload (14,000lb and 13,000lb respectively. However, to reach Trondheim from the airfield at Lossiemouth in the north-east of Scotland, the Stirling would have to reduce its payload to 12,000lb. On the same mission the Halifax could carry its full payload. So, after the initial small bombing raid on 30/31 January 1942, when a combination of Stirlings and Halifaxes were used, the Stirling squadrons were returned to other bombing duties, and the task of dealing with the Tirpitz fell to the crews of the Halifaxes, augmented in April by Lancasters.
The Lancaster was one of the outstanding heavy bombers of the war. Although its general performance was similar to that of the Halifax, the Lancaster enjoyed a big advantage in terms of range. Also, while both bombers had a broadly similar payload (13,000lb for the Halifax, and 14,000lb for the Lancaster), the configuration of the Lancaster’s bomb bays proved far more versatile. That meant that while the Halifax could be converted to carry large bombs such as the 4,000lb ‘cookie’, or ‘blockbuster’ bomb, which was used during the spring raids on the Tirpitz in 1942, it was incapable of carrying larger bombs. As a result, only the Lancaster could carry the 12,000lb ‘Tallboy’, which was used against the Tirpitz with devastating effect in late 1944. Even then, to attain the range needed to reach their target, these bombers had to be lightened by removing their upper turret. That, of course, made them extremely vulnerable to German fighters.
Short Stirling heavy bomber
Entered service: May 1940
Length: 87ft 3in (26.6m)
Wingspan: 99ft 1in (30.2m)
Weight when laden: 59,400lb (26,944kg)
Powerplant: 4× Bristol Hercules engines
Max. speed: 282mph (454kph) at 12,500ft (3,800m)
Range: 2,330 miles (3,750km) with bomb payload
Ceiling: 16,500ft (5,030m)
Armament: 2× machine guns (MG) in nose turret, 2× MG in upper turret, 4× MG in tail turret
Bomb payload: 14,000lb (6,350kg)
Crew: 7
Handley Page Halifax heavy bomber
Entered service: November 1940
Length: 71ft 7in (21.82m)
Wingspan: 104ft 2in (31.75m)
Weight when laden: 54,400lb (24,675kg)
Powerplant: 4× Bristol Hercules engines
Max. speed: 282mph (454kph) at 13,500ft (4,115m)
Range: 1,860 miles (3,000km) with bomb payload
Ceiling: 24,000ft (7,315m)
Armament: 1× MG in nose cupola, 4× MG in upper turret, 4× MG in rear turret
Bomb payload: 13,000lb (5,897kg)
Crew: 7
Avro Lancaster heavy bomber
Entered service: February 1942
Length: 69ft 4in (21.11m)
Wingspan: 102ft (31.09m)
Weight when laden: 55,000lb (24,948kg)
Powerplant: 4× Rolls Royce Merlin engines
Max. speed: 282mph (454kph) at 13,000ft (4,000m)
Range: 2,530 miles (4,073km) with bomb payload
Ceiling: 21,400ft (6,500m)
Armament: 2× MG in nose turret, 2× MG in upper turret, 4× MG in rear turret
Bomb payload: 14,000lb (6,400kg), although this could be modified to 22,000lb (10,000kg) for single heavy ordnance such as Tallboy or Grand Slam, at the expense of range and performance
Crew: 7
Aircraft of the Fleet Air Arm
Tirpitz’s sister ship Bismarck was crippled by a single 18in torpedo hit on her vulnerable rudder. The aircraft which released it was a Fairey Swordfish, a lumbering biplane which looked obsolete, but which actually proved a highly effective aircraft. The Swordfish was designated a Torpedo/Bomber/Reconnaissance aircraft (TBR) by the Fleet Air Arm, and so had to perform three roles. This merely added to its versatility, and explained why it remained in active service throughout the war. However, the Swordfish never saw action against the Tirpitz That task fell to the Fairey Albacore, another biplane that was billed as the replacement for
A Fairey Albacore taking off from the deck of an Illustrious-class fleet carrier – probably Victorious –while behind her a Seafire is preparing to begin her take-off run. This Albacore is unarmed, so is probably flying on a reconnaissance patrol.
the elderly Swordfish, but which was actually taken out of service before its predecessor. The Albacore (nicknamed the ‘Applecore’ by the Navy) proved less manoeuvrable than the Swordfish, even though it was both faster and more comfortable, having an enclosed cockpit. However, in May 1942 it was the only aircraft embarked in the carrier Victorious which could damage the Tirpitz
During the Fleet Air Arm’s attacks on the Tirpitz in the Kaafjord in the summer of 1944, the fleet’s main strike aircraft was the Fairey Barracuda. It was designed as a replacement for the Swordfish and the Albacore, although with the exception of its speed and manoeuvrability, it was not significantly better than either of its predecessors. The Barracuda was slightly easier to fly, and its improved visibility made it better suited to carrier landings. The largest ordnance it could carry, apart from an 18in aerial torpedo, was a 1,600lb armour-piercing (AP) bomb, and it was this, together with the 500lb semi-armourpiercing (SAP) bomb and the 600lb anti-submarine bomb, that it used against the Tirpitz. For all this, though, it was still too slow to attack the German battleship effectively before word of its approach reached the ship and her protective smoke screen was deployed. Ultimately, it was this lack of speed which condemned the Fleet Air Arm to failure in their efforts to put Tirpitz out of action.
Fairey Albacore TBR
Entered service: March 1940
Length:
39ft 10in (12.14m)
Wingspan: 50ft (15.24m) – wings could be folded for storage
Weight when laden: 10,460lb (4,755kg)
Powerplant: 1× Bristol Taurus II engine
Max. speed: 161mph (225kph) at 1,625ft (500m)
Range: 817 miles (1,497km) with torpedo or bomb payload
Ceiling: 20,700ft (6,310m)
Armament: 1× forward-facing MG on starboard wing, 1–2× MG in rear cockpit
Bomb/torpedo payload: 2,000lb (907kg) of bombs, or 1× 18in torpedo
Crew: 3
Fairey Barracuda TBR
Entered service: January 1943
Length: 39ft 9in (12.12m)
Wingspan: 49ft 2in (14.99m) – wings could be folded for storage
Weight when laden: 13,200lb (6,000kg)
Powerplant: 1× Rolls Royce Merlin engine
Max. speed: 228mph (367kph) at 1,750ft (533m)
Range: 686 miles (1,104km) with torpedo or bomb payload
Ceiling: 16,600ft (5,080m)
Armament: 2× MG in rear cockpit
Bomb/torpedo payload: 1,800lb (820kg) of bombs, or 1× 18in torpedo
Crew: 3
In addition to these bombers, the Fleet Air Arm used a number of fighters in their air strikes against the battleship. Of these, the American-built Grumman Hellcats and Vought Corsairs were capable of carrying small 500lb bombs, and therefore inflicting some minor damage to the battleship, if they were able to target her. Other naval fighters of British design – the Supermarine Seafire and the two-seater Fairey Firefly – were purely used as fighters, although in theory both could also carry a small bomb payload. Incidentally the Firefly also functioned as an anti-submarine aircraft, and as a reconnaissance plane. The advantage of these naval fighters over the Barracuda was their speed. The Hellcat had a top speed of 391mph, while the Corsair could manage an even more impressive 446mph. During Operation Goodwood this proved invaluable, as they were able to reach the Tirpitz before she could deploy her protective smoke screen.
Photographic reconnaissance
Before any operation could be planned, the attackers needed to know as much as they could about the battleship, her anchorage, and the defences around her. This information was supplied in part by Norwegian agents, but mostly it came from photographs, supplied by the Photographic Reconnaissance Unit (PRU). These flights, usually carried out by specially adapted Spitfires and later by Mosquitos, would continue for as long as the Tirpitz remained at large. When the battleship moved to the Kaafjord in northern Norway, the British planners had to rely on information gathered by Soviet reconnaissance planes, which lacked the specialist photographic equipment used by the PRU. However, by the summer of 1944 the PRU was able to operate from bases in northern Russia, and after an initial evaluation the photographs were flown to Britain by flying boats, where they were fully analyzed.
Between 1942 and 1944 these would provide operational planners with the basic information they needed. Not only did this
The American-built Grumman F6F Hellcat entered service with the Fleet Air Arm in late 1942, where for a time it was known as the Grumman Gannet, to conform with British nomenclature. During Operation Tungsten, Hellcats operating from the escort carrier Empress successfully strafed and bombed the Tirpitz in the Kaafjord.
The Vought F4U Corsair was another Americanbuilt fighter, which entered service with the Fleet Air Arm in November 1943. After some minor modifications it proved a robust and highly effective aircraft. During the spring and summer of 1944 Corsairs operating from the carriers Formidable and Victorious provided fighter cover for the Fleet Air Arm strikes on the Tirpitz
The 2,000lb armourpiercing (AP) bomb was specifically designed to be used, as its manual claimed, ‘for attacks against heavily armoured targets, such as capital ships’. It was strongly built so that it didn’t break up on impact, and its sleek lines and hardened nose cone encouraged it to penetrate a ship’s armoured deck before exploding.
reveal exactly where the Tirpitz was moored, and which direction she faced; it also showed her degree of operational readiness. In addition, regular PRU sorties gathered information on shore defences, torpedo nets, patrolling guard boats, the location of escort warships and supply ships, and weather conditions. Without this information the air operations against the Tirpitz would have had almost no chance of success.
Ordnance
While Tirpitz was being built, the bombers attacking Wilhelmshaven and Kiel used 250lb and 500lb general purpose bombs, designated as mediumcapacity (MC) ordnance by the RAF. These were dropped at night, from a high altitude, and so the chances of hitting the battleship were slim. Even if they did strike her they would do little damage due to her well-protected armoured deck. The best that could be hoped for was the reduction of her fighting potential through damage to sensors, fire-control equipment and flak guns. During 1944 these smaller bombs were used by the Fleet Air Arm during their attacks on Tirpitz. By then, semi-armour-piercing (SAP) and armour-piercing (AP) bombs were being used, but while these could pierce unarmoured decks, they were still incapable of inflicting a mortal wound.
A more powerful bomb was needed to inflict any real damage. In the port raids of 1940–41, a number of experimental 2,000lb high-capacity (HC) bombs were dropped. These were the first specialized British heavy bombs of the war. Their cast-steel cylinders were packed with Amatol explosive, and when released a drogue would deploy to stabilize the bomb as it fell. Although this type of ordnance proved ineffective in these port raids, by late 1941 a smaller but theoretically armour-piercing version was available. This was carried during the abortive January 1942 raid on Tirpitz in the Faettenfjord.
A larger 4,000lb HC version was developed, which had a similar cylindrical appearance, but due to its weight a drogue was omitted. The poor aerodynamic qualities of this bomb meant that its path was unpredictable once released, but by 1943 this problem was overcome by the addition of a nose cone and a circular drum fin. This allowed them to be optimistically designated AP bombs. These 4,000lb HC bombs were termed ‘blockbuster’ bombs by the press, as they were primarily designed to demolish urban areas. The airmen, though, nicknamed them ‘cookies’. Each contained over 3,000lb of Amatol, and if an AP version hit the Tirpitz it was hoped that it would pierce her armoured deck and explode deep inside the ship. In practice, however, these large, thin-skinned bombs proved little more effective than conventional bombs.
The Fleet Air Arm used an American-designed 1,600lb AP bomb. Specifically designed to penetrate the deck armour of an enemy warship, it had a hardened, pointed nose and a box fin. Although theoretically capable of piercing Tirpitz’s armoured deck if released at a high enough point during the dive, it proved another disappointment. The effectiveness of those bombs that hit Tirpitz was limited, as they had been filled with only half the requisite amount of explosive thanks to defects during production. They were also plagued by a faulty detonator.
250lb MC (medium capacity) bomb
User: Royal Air Force, Fleet Air Arm. Introduced October 1941
Structure: Cylindrical, with nose cone, thin casing and banded stabilizer at tail
Effect: Conventional bomb, incapable of penetrating armoured plate
Note: This superseded the 250lb GP (general purpose) bomb first introduced in 1926
500lb MC bomb
User: Royal Air Force, Fleet Air Arm. Introduced October 1941
Weight: 499lb (226kg). Explosive charge varies depending on explosive, but usually 232lb (105kg) Torpex
Fusing: Instantaneous (contact)
Structure: Streamlined, with thin casing and banded stabilizer at tail
Effect: Conventional bomb, incapable of penetrating armoured plate
Note: This superseded the 250lb GP (general purpose) bomb first introduced in 1926
500lb SAP (semi-armour-piercing) or AP (armour-piercing) bomb
User: Royal Air Force, Fleet Air Arm. Introduced February 1942 (SAP), March 1942 (AP)
Weight: 490lb (222kg) for SAP, 450lb (204kg) for AP. Explosive charge 90lb (41kg) TNT for SAP, 83lb (38kg)
Shellite for AP
Fusing: Delay (6 seconds) for SAP, delay (12 seconds) for AP
Structure: Streamlined, with thickened casing (up to 1.3in/3.3cm), hardened nose cone and drum stabilizer at tail
Effect: SAP capable of penetrating 2in (5cm) of deck armour from 2,500ft (762m). AP capable of penetrating 3.5in (8.9cm) of deck armour at 3,100ft (945m)
2,000lb HC (high capacity) Mark II bomb
User: Royal Air Force. Introduced December 1941
Weight: 1,723lb (782kg). Explosive charge varies depending on explosive, but usually 1,230lb (558kg) Amatol
Fusing: Delay (12 seconds)
Structure: Cylindrical, tapering to rear, with thin casing and rear cylinder stabilizer, although some were adapted to use conventional MC banded stabilizer at tail
Effect: Conventional bomb, capable of wreaking considerable damage to unarmoured structures
Note: This was essentially a precursor of the larger Blast Bombs, designed to destroy non-armoured targets. Although available from late 1941, these bombs were still being developed, and only entered service officially in June 1943
Structure: Cylindrical, with thin casing and rear cylinder stabilizer in tail
Effect: Blast bomb
Note: These bombs were fitted with a light-gauge metal plate nose attachment to improve aerodynamic performance
On board HMS Furious, London-born naval armourer Bob Cotcher chalks a message on the side of a 1,600lb AP bomb slung beneath a Barracuda of 830 Squadron, shortly before the commencement of Operation Tungsten. The addition of graffiti to ordnance was not unknown in the Fleet Air Arm, although it was generally frowned upon in Bomber Command.
1,600lb AP Mark I bomb
User: Fleet Air Arm. Introduced February 1943
Weight: 1,590lb (721kg). Explosive charge 209lb (95kg) Explosive D (Dunnite)
Fusing: Delayed contact (12 seconds)
Structure: Conical, hardened nose cone, with stabilizing fins at tail
Effect: Armour-piercing, designed to penetrate 5in (13.7cm) of deck armour from 4,500ft (1,370m)
Note: Of US manufacture, first introduced in US Navy in May 1942
The Fleet Air Arm also employed the 18in Mark XII torpedo, introduced before the war, which had a range of 1,500 yards at 40 knots, and carried a warhead of 388lb of Torpex explosive. This was the torpedo which crippled the Bismarck, so in March 1942 it could have done the same to the Tirpitz. However, torpedoes were only useable if Tirpitz put to sea. Once the battleship took refuge in its Norwegian lairs, torpedo attacks were pointless, as the battleship was always protected by multiple barriers of anti-torpedo netting and moored in narrow fjords which lacked the space for a torpedo run to take place.
Effect: Underwater detonation against target hull, with standard depth setting of 25ft (7.5m)
Range: 1,500 yards (1,370m) at 40 knots, 3,500 yards (3,200m) at 27 knots
Note: Air-launched torpedo
Various types of mines were dropped during these attacks, including the Mark XIX spherical contact mine, adapted for use by the RAF. The casings of these mines were strengthened
to allow them to be dropped from the air, and their horns removed. They contained 770lb of Amatol, and in theory they should have been effective. Instead they proved another disappointment, and they were only used during the spring raids of 1942. The Fleet Air Arm tried using 600lb anti-submarine (AS) Mark VIII bombs, which effectively were airdropped depth charges. The idea was that if they hit the Tirpitz, they would inflict the same damage as a 500lb AP bomb. If they missed, they would explode in the water and inflict underwater damage. They proved another disappointment. So too did the bizarre 500lb ‘Johnny Walker’ (JW) mine-bomb. Once dropped this ‘oscillating mine’ would sink to the seabed, then repeatedly rise and fall while moving laterally, until it came into contact with the underside of a ship, when it would explode. When used during Operation Paravane they failed to inflict any damage.
Fusing: Hydrostatic, with depth settings up to 260ft (79.3m), or delayed contact (8 seconds)
Structure: Cylindrical, thin casing, with detachable nose cone and stabilizing fins at tail
Effect: Anti-submarine bomb, operating like a depth charge, but also capable of being used as a conventional GP bomb of similar capabilities to a 500lb SAP
Note: Nose cone designed to detach on entering water
Fusing: Contact fuse, and self-destruct mechanism when all compressed gas was expended
Power: Compressed CO2 gas system
Structure: Cylindrical, with buoyancy chamber and parachute housing in tail
Effect: Oscillating mine. On landing in water the mine would sink to the seabed, and a hydrostatic/timer switch would trigger the injection of compressed gas into the buoyancy chamber at 60ft (18.29m), raising the mine to the surface. The air would then be expelled, and the process would be repeated until the gas was expended
Note: Designated ‘JW’ as an abbreviation for ‘Johnny Walker’, a reference both to the popular brand of whisky and to the appearance the mine had of ‘walking’ across the seabed towards its target. A parachute was attached to the tail, which was deployed when the mine was released from the aircraft. It was designed to fall away when the mine entered the water. Lateral ‘walking’ range was estimated at approximately 30ft (9.14m)
Effect: Delayed detonation on surface, or hydrostatic detonation under water at 12–18ft (3.6–5.4m)
Note: Originally a small naval mine, introduced in 1938. Modified for RAF use by the removal of strengthening of the casing, and the removal of the mooring fittings and the eight external switch horns
Officially designated the 12,000lb Deep Penetration (DP) Bomb, Mark I, the Tallboy was so large that it could only be carried by Lancasters which had their bomb bay doors modified to accommodate them. It was filled with 5,200lb of Torpex. When released from 18,000ft from a bomber travelling at 200mph, the bomb had a strike velocity of 1,097fps.
Finally, there was the Tallboy. Designed by Barnes Wallis, the inventor of the ‘bouncing bomb’, this huge 12,000lb MC bomb was specifically designed to attack hardened targets. It was designated an ‘earthquake bomb’, as it was designed to burrow into the earth on impact, where its explosive blast would shake the earth enough to cause fortified structures to collapse. These pointed, aerodynamically shaped bombs had a thick, hardened-steel casing, were fin-stabilized and when dropped from high altitude would reach supersonic speeds on impact. They could penetrate or undermine thick concrete structures – and could do the same to the armoured deck of a battleship. Each Tallboy was filled with 5,200lb of Torpex, and it was felt that a near miss would cause almost as much damage to the Tirpitz as a direct hit. This was certainly the case during Operation Catechism, when the hits may have caused intensive internal damage to the battleship, but it was the near misses that not only caused her to capsize, but effectively dug a grave in the seabed for her.
Fusing: Impact detonation or delayed detonation (12 seconds)
Structure: Streamlined casing, with hardened pointed nose cone, and four stabilizing fins at tail
Effect: Deep penetration or ‘earthquake’ bomb, designed to burrow beneath surface before exploding
Note: This bomb could only be dropped from a specially converted Lancaster bomber. Its official designation was ‘Bomb, HE, Aircraft, MC, 12,000lb’, but Tallboy (M) was far more commonly used.
DEFENDERS’ CAPABILITIES FORTRESS IN THE FJORDS
The Tirpitz has often been portrayed as a lonely ship, stranded for most of the war in remote Norwegian fjords, far from the support network of shipyards, supply centres and support ships which usually attend the needs of capital ships. While this may have been true in terms of geography, she was far from lonely. For most of her time in Norway she formed part of a battle group of Kriegsmarine warships, which were in turn supported by ancillary vessels such as tankers, maintenance ships, flak vessels and numerous fishing boats, commandeered as tenders, torpedo net boats and patrol craft. She was protected by a ring of anti-aircraft defences and smoke screen equipment, while at least in the Trondheimsfjord a powerful coastal battery kept enemy warships at bay. She also benefited from a string of coastal radar stations, lookout posts and Luftwaffe airfields. Then of course, there was Tirpitz herself, a floating leviathan of steel and weaponry which had her own potent array of flak guns, and a highly trained crew capable of repairing almost any damage their ship might suffer.
The battleship
In April 1939, Frau von Hassel, the daughter of Grand Admiral Alfred von Tirpitz, broke a bottle of Riesling over the bow of Germany’s latest battleship Tirpitz, and as Reichsführer Adolf Hitler and a huge crowd watched, Tirpitz's flag-draped hull slid into the waters of Wilhelmshaven harbour. Her sister ship Bismarck had been launched in Hamburg two months before, and was already fitting out. When they entered service these two battleships were the most modern capital ships afloat, equipped with a powerful main armament and sophisticated fire-control equipment which made them considerably more effective than the ageing battleships of the Royal Navy. Although Bismarck was famously sunk on her first operational voyage in May 1941, Tirpitz would spend her active life in Norwegian waters. While she rarely made operational sorties, she remained a latent threat to the Allies, due to her considerable ability to wreak devastation if she ever did fall upon an Arctic Convoy.
The Faettenfjord, where the Tirpitz was based from January 1942 until March 1943, was just 2,560 yards long, with the narrow Vududalen valley at its eastern end, and the island of Saltøya to the west, where the fjord entered the Åsenfjord, which itself was the eastern arm of the Trondheimsfjord. Tirpitz was moored on its northern side, beneath the wooded hill shown here. At that point the fjord was only 300 yards wide.
The battleship Tirpitz was launched in Wilhelmshaven on 1 April 1939. The ceremony was watched by the Führer und Reichskanzler Adolf Hitler, although the launching itself was performed by Ilse von Hassel, a daughter of Grand Admiral Alfred von Tirpitz (1849–1930), the founder of the modern German Navy.
In terms of firepower her armament was conventional. Her eight 38cm guns had a range of 36,520m metres (38,280 yards) at their maximum elevation of 30 degrees – the equivalent of 19 nautical miles. They were mounted in four twin turrets – two forward and two aft – named ‘Anton’, ‘Bruno’, ‘Caesar’ and ‘Dora’, and guided by highly effective optical rangefinders. While Tirpitz carried a FuMo radar, she never attained the radar fire-control capability of her British counterparts. These guns were augmented by a secondary armament of 15cm guns, mounted in six twin turrets, three on each beam. In theory, by 1944 both her main and secondary guns could be used as heavy flak guns, firing high explosive (HE) rounds with timed fuses. However, her real anti-aircraft (AA) strength lay in her formidable array of flak guns.
Her 10.5cm guns, carried in eight twin mounts, had a rate of fire of around 16–18 rounds per minute, and a range of 17,700m (19,357 yards), with a ceiling of 12,500m (41,010ft). Their job was to lay down a box barrage of heavy flak, to deter enemy bombers from flying through it. Supporting them were a similar number of 3.7cm medium flak guns, with a rate of fire of 30 rounds per minute, a range of 8,500m (9,300 yards) and a ceiling of 4,800m (15,750ft) when firing tracer. Finally her 20mm light flak guns provided ‘point defence’ at ranges of 4,900m (5,360 yards) or less, with a rate of fire in excess of 120 rounds per minute. By early 1944 her 20mm armament had been dramatically increased by the addition of 18 quadruple 20mm flak mounts. This gave the flak batteries of Tirpitz a formidable level of firepower.
The battleship had an armoured belt 320mm thick which protected her hull, but which tapered below the waterline to a thinner 170mm-thick belt, designed to protect her from torpedo attack. More importantly in terms of air attack, this belt formed the sides of an armoured citadel, covered by an armoured deck designed to protect her vitals (her magazines and engine spaces) from aerial attack. It was humpbacked in shape, so it sloped towards the
OPPOSITE TIRPITZ'S ANTI-AIRCRAFT ARMAMENT AND FIRE CONTROL
KMS Tirpitz had a conventional layout, similar to the German ‘super-dreadnoughts’ which entered service during the last years of World War I. The eight 38cm guns of her main battery were mounted in four twin turrets, labelled (from bow to stern) ‘Anton’, ‘Bruno’, ‘Caesar’ and ‘Dora’. Their fire was directed by two 10.5m rangefinders, mounted on rotating domes sited in her foretop and atop her after superstructure. Secondary rangefinders, to permit the turrets to fire under local control, were also mounted in each turret.
Her secondary battery of 12 15cm guns was carried in six twin turrets, three on each beam. These were designated as either ‘P’ or ‘S’ (for port or starboard), and numbered (from bow to stern) ‘I’, ‘II’ or ‘III’. They were directed by a 7m rangefinder mounted on top of the bridge. This could also serve the main gun battery if required. Similarly, a 6.5m rangefinder was mounted in each secondary turret, for firing under local control.
Her anti-aircraft defences consisted of 16 10.5cm guns, mounted in eight twin turrets, two on each beam of her forward and after superstructure. They were augmented by 16 3.7cm medium flak guns, in eight twin mounts, also grouped in a similar way, with four mounts on each beam, split between the forward and after superstructure. Tirpitz had four fire control stations for these heavy and medium flak guns, two on either side of the mainmast, one behind the mainmast and one behind ‘Caesar’ turret. Each of these contained a 4m SL-8 rangefinder. The 3.7cm flak guns were also equipped with manual sights, in case the anti-aircraft fire control system was not operational.
A large number of 20mm light flak guns were mounted around the ship, as shown in the diagram. The numbers of these increased markedly while Tirpitz was in Norwegian waters. These were fired using manual sights, although the quadruple mounts added in 1942–43 were linked to the SL-8 fire control system. Finally, Tirpitz carried a pair of quadruple torpedo mountings, fitted amidships, one on each beam.
10.5cm (4.1in) SKC/33 on LC/37 twin mounting
Max range: 17,700m (19,360yd) at 45 degrees elevation
Ceiling: 12,500m (41,000ft) at 80 degrees elevation
Rate of fire: up to 18 rounds per minute 3.7cm (1.457in) SKC/30 on LC/30 twin mounting
Max range: 8,500m (9,300yd) at 35.7 degrees elevation
Ceiling: 6,800m (22,300ft) at 85 degrees elevation
Rate of fire: up to 30 rounds per minute 2cm (0.787in) Flak 38 on L38/43 quadruple mountings or L41 single mountings
Max range: 4,800m (5,250yds) at 45 degrees elevation
Ceiling: 3,700m (12,100ft) at 90 degrees elevation
Rate of fire: up to 220 rounds per minute
sides of the ship, where it eventually joined the armoured belt. These sloped sides increased the protective capabilities of the deck. This armoured deck lay two deck levels below the actual upper deck, a steel deck clad in teak which was more lightly protected, but was still thick enough to shield the compartments beneath it from splinter damage or smaller bomb hits. The citadel did not protect the bow and the stern of the ship, which were primarily covered by her upper deck plates, although her propeller shafts were screened by a 110mm-thick armoured layer.
Taken together, the anti-aircraft batteries and her protective armour made Tirpitz a difficult target for Allied bombers. She had weaknesses, though. Although the armoured deck might protect her vitals, many of the ship’s living spaces were situated above it, and so were vulnerable. While her main and secondary turrets were well protected, her smaller flak guns were not, and the smaller weapons lacked gun-shields to protect their crews from bomb splinters or strafing attacks. This would prove particularly problematic during Operation Tungsten. Her other weakness was to underwater damage, from torpedoes, mines, or the explosive power of earthquake bombs. In several attacks she suffered flooding damage, and ultimately it was this weakness which would prove her undoing.
KMS Tirpitz | Bismarck class battleship
Built: Kriegsmarinewerft, Wilhelmshaven
Laid down: 2 November 1936
Launched: 1 April 1939
Commissioned: 25 February 1941
Length: 823ft 6in (251m) overall
Beam: 118ft 1in (36m)
Draught:
Displacement:
Propulsion:
30ft 6in (9.3m) standard lading
45,474 tonnes (50,425 tonnes fully laden, rising to 53,500 tonnes in 1944)
3× Brown-Boveri geared turbines, 12× Wagner high-pressure boilers, powering three propellers, and generating 160,796 steam horsepower (shp)
Max. speed: 30 knots
Range:
8,870 nautical miles at 19 knots
Armament (1942): 8× 38cm (15in) SK/C-34 main guns in four twin turrets
12× 15cm (6in) SK/L-55 secondary guns in six twin turrets
16× 10.5cm (4.1in) SK/C-33 heavy flak guns in eight twin mounts
16× 3.7cm (1.5in) SK/C-30 medium flak guns in eight twin mounts
12× 2cm (0.8in) Flak 30 light flak guns in 12 single mounts*
8× 53.3cm (21in) torpedoes, in two quadruple mounts
* During the winter of 1943–44, this was augmented by the addition of another 78 2cm (0.8in) Flak 30 light flak guns in 18 quadruple mounts
Sensors: FuMo23 ‘radar’, Gruppenhorchgerät (GHG) hydrophone system
Protection: Belt: 320mm (13in)
Turrets: 360mm (14in)
Armoured deck: 100–120mm (3.9–4.7in)
Upper deck: 50mm (2in)
Complement: 2,608 officers and men (1943)
The
Norwegian lairs
During her time in Norway, Tirpitz used four anchorages. One of these in the Bogenfjord near Narvik was only a temporary sanctuary, a mustering place for Kriegsmarine naval forces, and a base used for summer training exercises or temporary repairs. It was protected by flak positions and torpedo nets, and by the booms and patrol boats which guarded the entrance to the main Ostfjord. However, this was not really Tirpitz’s true home. She had two of those. From January 1942 until March 1943 it was the Faettenfjord near Trondheim, and after that it became the Kaafjord, near Alten, and the northernmost tip of Norway. Then, from October 1944 until her sinking in November, Tirpitz was moored off the island of Haakøy, near Tromsø. This last berth proved the exception to the rule – all the others were carefully chosen so that the landscape played a major part in the battleship’s defence.
The Faettenfjord was a small spur of the Åsenfjord, 16 miles northwest of the town of Trondheim. The Åsenfjord was at the eastern end of the Trondheimsfjord, while the town itself, on its southern shore, lay another 65 miles from the open sea. The Trondheimsfjord was protected from naval incursions by coastal batteries at Hysnes and Brettingen, but the real defensive value of the Faettenfjord was that it was only 300 yards wide, and flanked to north and south by steep hills. While its western end opened out onto the Åsenfjord, the entrance was split in two by the small hilly island of Saltøya, where the Tirpitz’s crew established shore facilities, including sports fields and a rest camp. To the east the Faettenfjord opened into the narrow valley of Vadudalen, but the wooded slopes and steep mountains to the south made it an unattractive avenue for aviators. Tirpitz was moored close to the northern slope of the fjord, with her stern facing west. This facing, the narrowness of the fjord and the torpedo nets surrounding the ship rendered Tirpitz immune from torpedo attack. So, any attacking aircraft had to use bombs, and attack from the west. This lack of options helped the Germans immensely as they planned the local defences.
The Kaafjord was similar to the Faettenfjord, in that it was a narrow fjord, about 1,000 yards wide in the part where Tirpitz had her moorings. Here she lay end-on to a point of land, nestling in the curve of a small bay called Barbrudalen. In the spring of 1944, after Operation Tungsten, Tirpitz was moved to the other side of the fjord, with her stern moored to a spit of land called Straumsneset. The Kaafjord was 3½ miles long, and lay at the southern end of the larger Altenfjord. The ship herself lay 5 miles from the small town of Alta, while the open sea lay 75 miles away from the ship, at the north-western end of the winding fjord. Like the Faettenfjord, the Kaafjord was flanked by high ground, with a high ridge on the south-eastern shore of the fjord, high hills to the south, and even higher ground leading to a mountainous plateau on the north-western side. So, once again a torpedo attack was impossible, leaving attackers with the option of coming in up the fjord, or over the mountains.
Tirpitz’s final lair was her least favourable. It lay next to the small island of Haakøy, and the neighbouring smaller island of Grindøy. It was 3½ miles to the west of the town of Tromsø, which lay on the far side of another island, Tromsøya. To the east and south of the anchorage was an even larger island, Kvaløya. The small stretch of water between the southern side of Haakøy and Kvaløya was known as the Sørbotn Channel. It formed part of the network of small fjords which separated Tromsø from the open sea, 32 miles away. As the largest town in northern Norway Tromsø was an important strategic asset, and Tirpitz was sent there to defend the port from Allied attack. However, compared with her other smaller anchorages the Haakøy one was exposed, with an open body of water on one side, and no towering mountains to shelter beneath.
Tirpitz moored in the Faettenfjord, with her stern pointing towards Saltøya Island, which can be glimpsed in the background. She was usually surrounded by ship’s boats, tugs, lighters and supply vessels, as well as rafts carrying camouflage nets. Further out, the line of buoys delineates the position of her anti-torpedo nets.
Brekstad
Agdenes Fort
Hysnes Fort
Trondheimsfjord
Trondheimsfjord
Island
Trondheimsfjord
Frosta Peninsula
Åsenfjord
Fættenfjord
Luftwaffe airfield
Søroy Strait
Silden
Seiland
Stjernøy
Jokelfjord
Øksfjord
Stjernsundet
Langfjord
St Haldde Heights Talvik
Høyvik Aroya Altenfjord
Alta Kaafjord
Trondheim
Tirpitz
Vaernes Vikkamar
Tautra
Lade
AA gun positions
Tirpitz
OPPOSITE THE FAETTENFJORD AND KAAFJORD ANCHORAGES
In all these cases, the real bonus of these lairs was their distance from British air bases. The Faettenfjord lay 632 miles from the forward airfields in north-east Scotland used by the Royal Air Force (RAF) in the spring raids of 1942. That was within range of British heavy bombers. The Bodenfjord was nearly 963 miles away, which theoretically was just within range of Lancasters. So too was the Haakøy anchorage near Tromsø, which was 1,049 miles away from Lossiemouth and neighbouring airfields, and so was reachable only if extra fuel tanks could be carried. At 1,146 miles, the Kaafjord lay well beyond the range of British bombers flying from Scottish airfields. That was why, in September 1944, the RAF used an airfield near Archangel in the Soviet Union for Operation Paravane, a mere 600 miles from the Kaafjord. These distances, though, are direct. The need to choose an approach avoiding enemy radar or airfields, and a route which gave the attackers some degree of surprise, often meant opting for a much longer flight path. So geography combined with the performance of British bombers conspired to make an attack on the Tirpitz a tough proposition.
The local defences
In the Faettenfjord, Tirpitz lay at the centre of a ring of flak defences which were there purely to protect her and other nearby warships from attack. A total of 16 flak batteries of various types and sizes were scattered over the immediate area of the fjord, and the nearby anchorage of Lofjord, used by German cruisers such as the Admiral Hipper and Prinz Eugen These included 24 heavy flak guns of 8.8cm calibre, while six more protected Trondheim. A total of 16 lighter flak guns, of 3.7cm and 20mm calibres, made up the rest of these antiaircraft defences, which were placed to cover both naval anchorages. Another 15 light flak guns protected Vaernes airfield, 7 miles south of the Faettenfjord.
In addition, two flak ships were moored nearby, one in the Åsenfjord and the other in the Lofjord. These were obsolete Norwegian warships captured by the Germans, and provided with an assortment of flak guns of various calibres. They would subsequently be moved to the Bodenfjord, to the Altenfjord and finally to the waters off Haakøy. Antiaircraft fire would also come from the numerous warships in the area. This usually included a number of destroyers, but could include larger vessels, such as the battlecruiser Scharnhorst, the armoured cruisers Admiral Scheer or Lützow , or the heavy cruisers Admiral Hipper or Prinz Eugen. Searchlight positions were mounted at two points on the southern shore of the Faettenfjord, while others protected Vaernes airfield and Trondheim. Tirpitz herself was surrounded by anti-torpedo nets, as she
The defences of the Faettenfjord, 1942–43
This shows the location of flak batteries surrounding the Faettenfjord and the nearby Lofjord, the searchlight battery facing the Tirpitz on the far shore of the Faettenfjord, and the various moored trawlers serving as smoke screen vessels. They were augmented by more smoke generators mounted around the shore of both anchorages. The numbers refer to the semipermanent mooring assigned to various major Kriegsmarine warships:
Tirpitz in the Altenfjord, being guided through the channel by tugs in March 1943, on her way to her new ‘lair’ in the Kaafjord. The photograph was taken by Torstein Raby, a member of the Norwegian resistance movement, using a camera hidden in his suitcase.
was in all her anchorages, operated by boom defence trawlers. Further naval patrols combed the waters of the Trondheimsfjord, and a boom spanned its western end, near Brettingen battery.
However, of all the defences put in place to protect Tirpitz , the most effective was her smoke screen. This was provided by chemical smoke generators, which were mounted around the shore of the Faettenfjord and in parts of the Lofjord. In addition, yet more smoke generators were mounted in smoke boats – converted trawlers, eight of which were permanently stationed on the seaward side of both anchorages. In the event of an air attack these would be set off electronically, and it was reckoned that within ten minutes an impenetrable barrier of white smoke would shroud not only the Tirpitz, but the whole of the Faettenfjord as well.
In the Kaafjord a similar arrangement was put in place. In fact, most of the flak guns and smoke generators were simply transported up there in coastal convoys, along with their crews, stores and equipment. In the spring of 1944 there were 38 heavy flak guns in place around the fjord, supported by 22 light flak mounts, some of which were quadruple flak pieces.
Air warnings tended to come from one of the chain of radio direction finding (RDF, or ‘radar’) stations which covered the Norwegian coast. They could detect approaching aircraft at a range of about 50 miles, but it was only in the winter of 1943–44 that improved radar sets and a more thorough coverage made this early warning system truly effective. Similarly, the network was never fully extended so it could detect aircraft approaching from the east, where the mountainous spine of Norway and Sweden made accurate detection difficult. However, in Lapland the Germans maintained coastal radar stations which were able to provide some coverage over the flat landscape to the south. These RDF stations were augmented by lookout posts, and by observers standing watch in other key locations, such as on airfields, in towns or at military barracks. Despite a somewhat convoluted command chain, the system worked, and in most cases the captain of the Tirpitz was able to sound ‘Action Stations’ and deploy his protective smoke screen before the enemy bombers appeared.
The weak link in the German defensive screen was air cover. Luftwaffe airfields near the battleship’s lairs – Vaernes near the Faettenfjord, Banak near Kaafjord and Bardufloss near Haakøy – should in theory have provided fighter cover for Tirpitz in the event of an air attack. These airfields were also linked in to the radar network, so intercepting an approaching bomber formation or naval air strike should have been a reasonably simple undertaking. However, intense rivalry between the Luftwaffe and the Kriegsmarine, a complicated command structure and a general reluctance to risk precious air assets meant that in virtually every case, the attacking aircraft were never intercepted. So, for instance, in the spring of 1940 there were 30 Bf 109 fighters at Vaernes and 30 Bf 110s. None of them intercepted the spring bombing raids that year. The biggest failure came in November 1944, where despite a direct phone link between Tirpitz and the airfield at Bardufloss, no fighters took to the air to protect the Tirpitz on the day of her loss.
CAMPAIGN OBJECTIVES THE
BATTLE FOR ARCTIC WATERS
A fleet in being
The Tirpitz was sent to Norway to join the Kriegsmarine forces there, and to form the core of a battle group which could disrupt the Allied convoys sailing to northern Russia. Norway was the ideal base for this mission, as it lay close to this convoy route, particularly in the north, where from sheltered anchorages such as the Altenfjord this battle group could easily venture deep into the Arctic Sea. The same coastline also provided a haven for U-boats, which took only two days to form a patrol line astride these convoy routes. Norway contained several air bases, and the Luftwaffe had built up their bomber strength there. So, while the Arctic Convoys could be harried from the air and from below the surface, warships such as Tirpitz would bide their time and choose the right moment to strike.
This, however, was only the theory. While U-boats and land-based aircraft played havoc with these convoys, surface forays were rare. The principal reason for this was the Reichsführer, who, after the loss of the Bismarck, was wary of committing surface ships to an action where the odds might not be completely in their favour. So, for all her immense fighting potential, Tirpitz spent much of the war at her moorings in the Norwegian fjords, screened by camouflage netting and torpedo nets, with her crew growing increasingly frustrated as the war was being waged elsewhere. In the two instances where Tirpitz did make a sortie, she failed to make contact with the enemy, except when she was attacked by British naval aircraft. This strike, carried out by Albacore torpedo bombers from HMS Victorious, led to two directives from Hitler. The first was that in future she would only sortie if there were no British aircraft carriers operating in the area. The second was that no offensive operation would be undertaken without Hitler’s consent.
The result was the atrophy of the battleship’s fighting potential. So, instead of forming a key part of a surface battle group which could sever the strategically vital convoy route between the Western Allies and the Soviet Union, she was relegated to becoming the centrepiece of the naval doctrine of a ‘fleet in being’. This concept, famously proposed by the American naval strategist
In early July 1942, the German naval battle group in Norway sailed north from the Bogenfjord near Narvik to the Altenfjord, which they planned to use as a base from which to attack Convoy PQ-17. This photograph, taken from the stern of a German destroyer, shows two of these warships – the armoured cruiser Lützow, followed by her sister the Admiral Scheer. During this voyage, the Lützow struck an uncharted rock, and had to return to Narvik for repairs.
UK
ARCTIC OCEAN
Scattering of PQ-17 1942
Battle of the Barents Sea 1942 Battle of North Cape 1943
Norwegian Sea
Fættenfjord
NORWAY
SWEDEN
FINLAND
SOVIET
DENMARK
Bodo
Bergen
Stavanger
Murmansk
Narvik
Trondheim
Alta
Tromsø
Hammerfest
Kola Inlet
Shetland
Orkney
Scapa Flow
Lofoten Islands
Haakoy
Kaafjord
Petsamo Kirkenes
Banak
Bardufoss
Vaernes Bodenfjord
Alfred Thayer Mahan (1840–1914), explained how a naval force could influence a naval war, even without leaving port. If it did so, it might lose the battle, and hence the war. However, by remaining in port it served as a ‘fleet in being’, forcing the enemy to continually deploy a bigger force, just in case it ever did sortie. Thus, even though she remained in the Faettenfjord or the Kaafjord, the Tirpitz would force the British Home Fleet to deploy precious battleships and aircraft carriers in support of the Arctic Convoys. This would then prevent these capital ships from being deployed in more active theatres, such as the Mediterranean or the Far East.
So, for Captain Topp of the Tirpitz and his successors, their objective was to survive, and to maintain their fighting potential. This stratagem, endorsed by Grand Admiral Raeder and then his successor Admiral Karl Dönitz, meant doing whatever was required to protect the battleship from attack, which could only come from submersibles or from aircraft. Naval defences were therefore put in place – an outer ring of search aircraft, then destroyers, followed by booms and guard vessels screening the seaward entrances to the fjords where the Tirpitz lay. Finally, coastal sentries, torpedo nets and lookouts would play their part. The defences against air attacks have already been described, but the problem of cooperation with the Luftwaffe was never overcome.
The naval command structure was also particularly complex. A Commanding Admiral Norway controlled all Kriegsmarine resources in Norway. The country was divided into North, South, West and Polar Coast areas, and at various times Tirpitz came under the control of the North and Polar commands. The commanding admiral, though, was answerable to the Chief of Naval Command in Germany, and through him to the Commander-in-Chief of the Navy, and to the Reichsführer. The Luftwaffe had its own command structure, with Luftflotte 5 based in Oslo controlling all air units in Norway, Finland and northern Russia. Under it, Fliegerführer Nord had operational control in Norway, and it in turn was divided into three regional commands. A separate structure dealt with Luftwaffe administration. What this meant for Tirpitz was that any request for air support had to surmount several administrative hurdles. This, combined with inter-service rivalry, meant that the Tirpitz and her crew were badly let down by the Luftwaffe.
The British goal
The British goal was simply the reverse of the German one. It needed to sink the ‘fleet in being’ in order to send its muchneeded capital ships to other hard-pressed theatres of war. Prime Minister Winston Churchill was particularly aware of this – he understood the concept of ‘a fleet in being’ with much greater clarity than Hitler ever did. So, from January 1942 on, he pressed both Bomber Command and the Admiralty to deal with the Tirpitz. For the Admiralty, this meant maintaining the capital ship strength of the Home Fleet, so that if Tirpitz ever did sortie to attack a convoy, a distant covering force of two battleships was on hand to intercept it. Where possible this distant covering force was supported by an aircraft carrier, as was the case with Victorious in March 1942. Effectively, all the Navy could do during 1942 and 1943 was to contest control of the sea, and so help the vital convoys reach Murmansk and Archangel.
Grand Admiral Erich Raeder (1876–1960) had to juggle the two strategic demands of his warships in Norway – attacking the Arctic Convoys and maintaining a ‘fleet in being’. He resigned in early 1943, following Hitler’s criticism of the Kriegsmarine after the battle of the Barents Sea. Here he is inspecting Tirpitz in the Faettenfjord anchorage, accompanied by two of his senior staff, and followed by Captain Topp.
ARCTIC OCEAN
Carrier Task Force: Tungsten, Mascot and Goodwood
Kaafjord
Carrier Task Force: Sportpalast
Tirpitz attacked at sea, March 1942
Norwegian Sea
Obviate and Catechism
Fættenfjord
Spring 1942 raids
Stavanger
Scapa Flow
Lossiemouth
North Sea
FINLAND
NORWAY UK
SWEDEN
DENMARK
Winter limits of pack ice Front line 1942–44 Tirpitz anchorage
Banak
Bardufoss
Bodenfjord
Bodo
Vaernes
Bergen
Oslo
Murmansk
Yagodnik
Narvik
Alta
Tromsø
Hammerfest
Barents Sea
Kola Inlet
Shetland
Orkney
Lofoten Islands
North Cape
Bear Island
Haakoy
Petsamo Kirkenes
Trondheim
Paravane
OPPOSITE BOMBER ROUTES AND CARRIER LAUNCH LOCATIONS
By 1944, though, new fleet carriers had entered service, and a new breed of small escort carriers were available, to protect convoys and augment the fleet carriers for special operations. Even then, the Home Fleet had to gather all its available carrier strength in order to carry out the air offensive against the Tirpitz that ran intermittently throughout the spring and summer of 1944. This was a risky undertaking, as the torpedoing of HMS Nabob demonstrated (see page 65). Still, while the Admiralty might not agree, Churchill argued that the loss of one or two fleet carriers in exchange for the Tirpitz might be a price worth paying.
The situation was different for Bomber Command. While the bomber crews who took part in the spring raids of 1942 might not have experienced that kind of highly specialist attack before, they were at least well-versed in the business of flying bombing missions over long distances, and knew what was expected. The use of heavy bombs such as the ‘cookie’ gave these air crews a reasonable chance of inflicting damage on the Tirpitz if they could hit her, and the attacks themselves were pressed home with a grim determination. However, the lack of any serious damage inflicted during these costly raids meant that Bomber Command became reluctant to commit more of their precious bomber force on such a problematic target. Logistically, though, these missions paved the way for the RAF raids of late 1944. They demonstrated that a large bomber force could reach Norway from forward airfields in north-east Scotland, and that with the right ordnance much better results could be achieved.
The move of the Tirpitz to the Kaafjord placed her beyond the range of another strike of this kind, but by 1944 the ordnance to do the job had become available. The 12,000lb Tallboy bomb was almost custom-built for the task, and by 1944 Bomber Command’s 5 Group had two squadrons which had already used these mammoth bombs, and their aircraft were equipped to carry them. Operation Paravane in September 1944 was the result of extensive planning by the staff of 5 Group, who not only oversaw the modification of the Lancasters to reach a forward base in northern Russia, and planned this epic flight across northern Europe, but also masterminded the raid which followed. The real stars of the operation, though, were the men of 9 and 617 Squadrons, led by Wing Commander ‘Willy’ Tait. They demonstrated the effectiveness of the Tallboy, causing the damage which would bring the battleship within range of the same bombers, this time flying from British airfields.
The planning of all these air operations, from the spring of 1942 on, had been meticulous. Large relief models of the target areas had been produced by both the RAF and the Royal Navy, and these helped the pilots understand the target area. This was important, as the geography of the Faettenfjord and Kaafjord played a major part in the operation. This was less true of the final attacks on the Tirpitz as she lay off Tromsø. What was needed there was the ability to fly further than a British bomber force had flown before on a mission of this kind, and clear skies when it reached the target. The first hurdle was overcome by good planning and ingenuity. The second relied on luck.
The first mission, Operation Obviate, was thwarted by a sudden change of weather which no meteorologist could have predicted. The second, Operation Catechism, took place in near-perfect flying conditions, and as a result, Tirpitz was destroyed. The Allies had finally achieved their objective, after what was one of the longest air campaigns of the war. By then, however, the Tirpitz had ceased to be a viable ‘fleet in being’. This dénouement, then, was more about ‘payback’ than strategy.
In March 1943 Admiral Otto Schniewind (1887–1964) became the commander of the Marinegruppenkommandos Nord (Marine Group Command North), responsible for all Kriegsmarine warships in Norwegian waters, as well as in the Baltic and the North Sea. His attempts to use Tirpitz more aggressively were thwarted by Hitler.
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is past, the temperature falls very rapidly, and one sees no more of these insects.
On February 4 we started to complete the circuit of the lake and reach Delgi by way of the Zegi peninsula. Our road lay across flat land, bordered by marshes and full of swamps and quagmires. Sometimes the marshes stretch a long way into the land, and long detours had to be made to avoid them. I saw yams for the first time in Abyssinia growing just above the swampy tracts in this region. We had to cross three rivers with rocky beds, which were made rougher and more slippery by loose stones. To add to our difficulties, our guide twice led us out of the right path, and once to a ford which was impassable for the donkeys. In this way we lost nearly three hours. At lunch time we sent the baggage-train on ahead of us. The latter part of the journey was over a beaten track, and gave us no trouble. We overtook the baggage animals and their escort just as they entered the undulating ground which forms the approach to the peninsula of Zegi. We pitched our camp near the shore of a little bay of which this promontory was the further boundary.
While we were on the road I received a scribbled note from Crawley, who told me that one of his soldiers was ill, had lain down and refused to move. I rode back at his request, and found the invalid under a tree. He said, “Leave me alone. I want to die.” It was evident at a glance that he was suffering from ague. The only remedy which we had at hand was chartreuse. I gave him a big “nip” of the cordial, and it had an excellent effect upon him. He was able to ride to the end of the journey, and was none the worse for the effort. I venture to commend this incident to the consideration of strict teetotalers.
The village near which we were encamped is that which is marked as Furje on Stecker’s map. The district affords a curious example of feudal tenure in Abyssinia. We had quitted Tecla Haimanot’s dominions, and the land on which our camp stood was under the control of a certain chief called Fituari[97] Ali, a feudatory of Ras Mangousha. He dwelt close to the town of Zegi, but had no jurisdiction within its boundary, though his lordship was valid in a region extending beyond the town to the Abai.
The chieftain had gone to attend the marriage of Ras Mangousha’s daughter, and had left his son in authority. So we sent a messenger with an escort to carry the news of our arrival to this young Habash with due formality. He brought back an uncivil reply to the effect that the Fituari’s son was absent, and if we wanted anything we had better go and find him. This was sent by his majordomo. While we were waiting for tea to be served, Johannes reported that the young Habash was approaching, and we saw him at a little distance attended by a band of followers, some of whom carried guns. Our interpreter asked what he should say to this truculent young man, and we bade him explain that we only asked leave to pass through the land, and should require nothing unless it were to purchase a little grain for our animals. We always sought to avoid trouble with the natives, and therefore impressed upon Johannes that he should show we wished to be friendly, and say we hoped the Fituari’s son would come and have a drink with us.
Johannes departed with his message, and presently we heard a great hubbub—many Habashes talking at once at the top of their high-pitched voices. We wondered what gave rise to so much excitement. Presently Johannes emerged from the crowd and approached us slowly. The young man’s answer was that he would speak with us when he had seen the King’s letter. Now, this permit and all our credentials had been dispatched on February 1 from Bahardar Georgis to Ras Mangousha that we might obtain his leave to travel through his territories beyond the Abai, and we did not expect our messenger to return until late on the following day
It was an uncomfortable situation. The Ras’s reply might be unfavourable. In that case we should be confronted by the necessity of retracing our steps over the whole of the toilsome journey by the lake side. We all longed to kick the tiresome coxcomb who was in our way, and went to dinner in a glum mood.
We were obliged to spend the following day (Feb. 5) in inaction awaiting the return of our messenger with Ras Mangousha’s answer. I busied myself with the camera, having every reason to believe that no photographs of this tract of country had ever been taken.
During the morning we received a visit from the head man of Zegi. We thought it a favourable sign that he gave us a very pleasant and courteous welcome. This young man, Hyli by name, was about nineteen years of age. I learned afterwards that he was studying the ancient Geez language under the tuition of the priests of Zegi, and presume that he intended to “go into the Church.” These candidates for orders are not permitted to smoke or drink strong liquor while they are in statu pupillari. A similar restriction would scarcely be popular in our own ancient universities.
Hyli, we found, had a large consignment of coffee to send to the market at Gallabat. It is his business to collect the dues payable on this produce before it leaves the village, and the revenue so obtained is handed to Ras Mangousha. Hyli had now come to request that his caravan might join ours during the journey through the “raincountry”—that borderland between Abyssinia and the Soudan, which, as I have said, is infested by bandits. We had every reason to win friends where we could, and every wish to please the young Habash, so we consented willingly. He told us that the coffee was already at Delgi, and that he had been informed of the date of our arrival at that village, at Korata and at Woreb, and had been looking forward to our coming for a month past. In the evening he sent us a present of flour and fowls.
After this visit, I walked to the township of Zegi. It is surrounded by a thick hedge of incense-bush, and this forms the boundary between the Fituari’s jurisdiction and Hyli’s. Zegi very closely resembles Korata. It consists of groups of tokhuls scattered among small, square enclosures where the coffee bushes grow apparently untended. These plantations, with the cottages and churches among them, cover the whole promontory. I should estimate the population, when I saw the place, at about three thousand souls.
Dr. Stecker’s account of his visit to the town is brief and interesting, and I quote it. I saw nothing of the stone dwellings which he describes, and think they must have been replaced by straw tokhuls since 1881. He wrote:—
“On June 7 I made a tankoa-journey to the peninsula of Zegi, and climbed to the highest peak, Tekla Haimanot (2074 metres above sea-level, according to barometrical measurement), which afforded extremely important survey-bearings.” The traveller then mentions his visit to Livlivo, Adina, and the island of Dek, and adds, “The Zegi peninsula is especially famed for its coffee plantations. Some coffeetrees are as much as a metre in girth. The coffee is mostly exported to Metemmeh” (Gallabat), “less goes to Massowah, but it is not considered so good as that of Korata. Besides coffee the Ensete banana flourishes here conspicuously, and also the edible species (Musa Ensete edulis); but, unfortunately, in recent years these charming plantations have been almost entirely destroyed by a species of pig called Assama (potamochoerus penicillatus),[98] which is found here in hundreds. This remarkable animal feeds almost entirely on the roots of these fine bananas. What struck me here particularly was the neatness of the tokhuls, which are chiefly of stone, and in general all villages on Lake Tsana have a much cleanlier and more pleasant appearance than those inland. There is no lack of clergy on the Zegi Peninsula: there are here no fewer than seven churches with twelve hundred priests and defterers.”[99] I am bound to say that I saw no indication during my brief stay that the population was deplorably priest-ridden!
I was returning to camp about four o’clock in the afternoon, and was still at some distance from it when I met a Habash, who made me understand by signs that our messenger had brought the Ras’s letter, and as I hastened on I noticed that the news was already public property. Upon reaching camp I saw our man, grimy and travel-stained. He and a companion, with one mule to ride, had covered about a hundred and thirty miles in four days over very rough country, and they had waited while the Ras attended to our business; so they had not let the grass grow under their feet. I felt sorry for the mule. Walda Mariam had had charge of this business. We had given him one day’s rest at Bahardar Georgis after his return with Tecla Haimanot’s message, and then dispatched him on this second journey. It is expected of these runners, when they are in charge of a missive from the Negus or a great chief, that they shall
not sleep till they have delivered it. The man bowed low, and handed the Ras’s letters to me in a manner which showed that he now made me responsible for their custody. I then learned, by the aid of an Arab interpreter, that the chief’s reply was of the most favourable kind, and that he had sent mandates to all concerned to give us every furtherance on our way round the lake. He also inquired very courteously about our health and our progress, and had sent a soldier from his own guard as a special escort for the party. The Ras, moreover, had even furnished us with letters to chiefs through whose lands we should not pass on the road to Delgi, to be used in case we wished to turn aside from the way and visit the hinterland of the lake district. And, best of all, there was a communication addressed to Fituari Ali’s son, enjoining upon him that he should show us every civility. Johannes, who had been absent from camp when the messenger arrived, had returned by the time my companions came back from an excursion. The despatches were then interpreted to them in French, and we enjoyed the prospect of our enemy’s discomfiture. It was resolved that the mandate to him should be delivered on the following morning. I noticed that the Habashes did not appear to make common cause with Ali’s son, but seemed pleased at our success. Among the Ras’s letters was one to Hyli, which we sent to him immediately, though it was scarcely required in his case. Zody was the bearer of it.
CHAPTER XI
F the 6th was a market-day in Zegi. In the morning we mounted our mules and went to visit St. George’s Church. Hyli was studying in the theological school attached to this round, thatched place of worship, which resembled in all respects the others that we had seen in the country. When the Chief Priest had received a suitable offering, our Abyssinian friend took us to his house, and here, for courtesy’s sake, we were obliged to drink tedj—a vile, bitter draught. We had escaped it on other occasions. The composition of it has been mentioned elsewhere. Hyli was very anxious that we should stay and eat a meal with him—doubtless it would have consisted chiefly of raw meat smothered with red pepper and sour teff bread—but we managed to excuse ourselves from this ordeal. On our way back to camp we passed through the market-place, which was now thronged. I do not know whether any European had been seen there before; but in any case we were objects of the utmost curiosity, and the people pressed around us so thickly that we had a difficulty in making our way through them.
In the afternoon I returned to the market for the purpose of obtaining snap-shots. It is held on the top of a stretch of rising ground, under the shadow of some half a dozen big trees. Under each tree was a large stone. On market-days a priest from each of the different churches stands on the stone allotted to his parish. These men are striking figures, clad in their ecclesiastical vesture, of which a large white turban and a shama with a broad red border are the conspicuous features. The parishioners from the different districts squat around their pastor near the stone, and the priest takes tithe in kind upon the spot when any member of his flock completes a purchase or a sale. Our people bought some grain and two sheep. The ruling prices were: for an ox (without the hide), seven shillings; for a sheep, two shillings.
MARKET DAY AT ZEGI.
See p 162
In one of the photographs which I obtained, the curious plaits in which the married women wear their hair are clearly shown. Stern thus describes the manner in which the coiffure is preserved from disarrangement at night. “The woman whose hair has undergone the tedious process of plaiting, must also have it protected from becoming dishevelled while she sleeps; and as this cannot so easily be done in a country where a bullock’s hide or a mat forms the bed, necessity has contrived a bowl-shaped stool, in which the neck is
wedged. In Abyssinia, where the women are particularly proud of their copper-coloured charms, very few, even on a journey and with fifty pounds weight on their backs, will forget to take the wooden pillow and the hollow grease-filled gourd,” from the contents of which the hair is “dressed.”[100]
I purchased a leopard’s skin in the market for a dollar, but it was not a good specimen. During the afternoon I received a visit from another Abyssinian artist, who presented me with two pictures in return for a black lead-pencil and a part of a blue one. And I had a constant stream of patients, who claimed attention very freely. I am bound to say that the maladies from which the majority of them suffered fully justified the allegation of Dr. Stecker, to which I have already referred.
The letter from the Ras to the Fituari’s son was delivered early in the morning. In the evening we heard that no sooner had he received it than he disappeared, and nobody seemed to know his whereabouts. No doubt it was his intention to declare afterwards that he had not been in the village when we arrived. If his conduct came to the Ras’s knowledge, I have little doubt the vainglorious youth was flogged—this has been the penalty inflicted on other Habashes who have shown rudeness to travellers provided with the King’s safeconduct letter.
Our tents at Zegi were in a pleasant position, under a spreading fig tree; these trees are found throughout Abyssinia and in the “rain country,” and give abundant shade. I have never seen them growing thickly, in a clump.
We made an early start on the morning of February the 7th, and trotted ahead at a good speed, as the donkeys were very fresh after their rest. The country is similar to that which we traversed in approaching Zegi. At eleven o’clock we reached the bank of the Abai. At the ford where we were to cross, it is a broad river, more than a hundred yards in width, as I should judge. The water was running in a fairly rapid current, and I was told that the stream is perennial. The banks of the river are steep, and the bed is stony. The water, at that season of the year, was almost clear. But during the
rains, when the stream is in flood, it brings down vast quantities of the deposits of the white ants and other detritus. The flat island of Dek has been formed by siltage of alluvial soil thus brought, and it is matter in solution which renders the course of the Abai traceable in Lake Tsana.
At the ford we found that the water came just above a man’s knee. The crossing gave us little trouble, and there was no serious mishap. The larger loads and our valises—of the “Wolseley” pattern —were wetted, but the sun soon dried them. One donkey collapsed, and fell with his burden into the stream about two yards from the further bank; but there were many to help, and he was soon put on his feet again. He was not carrying anything which would be ruined by a soaking. The rise beyond the ford was steep, and the drippings from the wet animals made it slippery, so we had to throw earth on it to give them a foothold, as in crossing the Gelda.
After passing the Abai, we entered a flat district full of the long dry grass, of which we had seen so much on the north side of the lake. The country hereabouts is full of the kind of gazelle called oribi. We had not elsewhere in Abyssinia found these creatures in herds. Game birds abound in this region, which appeared to be almost deserted. We passed scarcely any villages, and those which we saw consisted of only five or six huts.
Our camping-ground was an open space not far from a papyrus swamp. We should not have selected this spot by choice, as the proximity of marshy soil was a danger to health. But we were obliged to halt there because no water was to be had for a considerable distance on the road ahead. All around were ruins of houses built of stone, with thatched roofs that had fallen in. The number of them showed that a town or a large village must have existed here at one time. Stone dwellings are not usual in this region, and I inquired what the name of the place was and tried to learn its history, but could get no information.
Dupuis and Crawley went out with their rifles, and added three oribis to the store in the larder. I stayed in camp “on duty,” and after treating a patient sat reading outside my tent. My servant rushed up
to me, and said that I was wanted to shoot a snake that had crept under some brushwood. I hastened to unpack my gun and ran after the boy, and soon came to where our men, in a state of great excitement, had formed a cordon round a patch of dry grass, to which they had set fire. Finally the snake came out, and all our fellows shouted at it. They were in mortal terror of it, as a fact, and certainly it looked “an ugly customer.” It was too big to be stopped by shot unless I could make sure of hitting it in the head, and this I was not able to manage before it crawled under a saddle belonging to one of the soldiers. The saddle was lifted by the aid of a long pole, and in a moment the snake’s head was smashed by the same means. I measured it, and found that it was just over two yards in length. The back was brown and the belly white, and the skull had the typical shape of the adder family. Generally speaking, we saw fewer reptiles in Abyssinia than we had expected.
After this incident, I strolled round the camp with my gun, and presently noticed a little grey animal scampering among the stones of a ruined house. It was of the same colour exactly as the stones, but presently I believed I could discern an eye, and, being anxious to ascertain what creature it was, took aim and fired. I walked up to the spot but found nothing, looked around and wondered how the animal could have vanished. At the moment I heard the rustling of a leaf beyond the tumbledown wall on the left, and, guided by the sound, discovered the animal just dead. It was a specimen of the hyrax—an interesting creature to biologists, which Huxley described as “the type of a distinct order, in many respects intermediate between the Ungulata, on the one hand, and Rodentia and Insectivora on the other.”[101] It is found only in Syria and Africa. I thought the skin worth preserving, and one of the soldiers flayed it for me.
On Sunday, February 8, our road lay, for the most part, at some little distance from the lake, which was out of sight till the end of the journey. We plodded on through long grass and past burnt patches. The track is only about a foot wide, and in consequence the loads of the donkeys extended beyond it on either side. When they were among the tall growth they had to sweep it aside from their burden as they went, and this tired them greatly
We reached the edge of the lake at two o’clock, after an unbroken journey of six and a half hours, and pitched our camp. About two hundred yards from the shore five hippos were standing, well clear of the water. They looked for all the world like rocks, even when we brought field-glasses to bear on them. After lunch Crawley had the Berthon boat put together, and I rowed him towards the hippos. When we were within a hundred yards of them, I considered that the range was quite short enough to give the marksman an opportunity of displaying his skill, and he got no nearer. He began practice at once, but the boat was pitching rather sharply, and this made aiming with the rifle almost chance-work. Presently the sport became like firing at disappearing targets, for the hippos rose only once in two or three minutes to breathe. If they had taken my friend seriously, we should probably not have left Lake Tsana, and I felt relieved when he had had enough of the pastime and we rowed ashore.
Various small offerings of milk and bread reached us from the hamlets around. The milk is always sour. The Habashes do not drink it when it is fresh, and as a consequence they never wash the gourds in which they keep it, because it “turns” sooner in a dirty receptacle. At a few places we were able to have the cows brought into camp, and stored the milk in our own vessels, but this was impossible when we only remained one night on a camping-ground.
That evening Johannes, the interpreter, had a touch of fever. On the previous night his tent had been close to the papyrus swamp, and this, no doubt, accounted for the attack.
On the following day, February 9, our road lay through more broken country and more pleasing scenery. The track led us up hills, and down them, and between them, and sometimes close beside the lake. I saw no trees in this region but mimosas; the ground was covered in places by mimosa scrub, in others by dry grass. We made a march of seventeen miles, as we reckoned, a longer distance than we had travelled on the previous day. The donkeys were tired out at the end of the journey. Some stood still and refused to move, others lay down under their burdens in the path. We camped on the shore of the lake, at a spot very similar to that which we had chosen for our last halting-place.
The interpreter’s fever had yielded considerably to the usual quinine treatment, and he seemed very little the worse for his long ride in the heat.
In the evening the wind rose and presently blew hard enough to make me wonder whether my tent would collapse or not. I observed that very soon enough wash was knocked up in the deeper water to stop the headway of a rowing-boat. The lake would be a perfect place for fishing and sailing in the dry season. But without experience and watchfulness, risks would arise—quite apart from the humours of the hippopotami.[102]
On Tuesday, February 10, after a journey of about twelve miles through tall grass that impeded our baggage-train, we reached the village of Delgi, and pitched our camp upon the same ground which we had chosen for our first halting-place beside the lake. To the best of my belief, we were the only Europeans who had ever completed the circuit of this lovely reservoir of the Nile—the distance in all is one hundred and sixty to one hundred and seventy miles. Those who love regions beyond the outposts of our civilization, where the tourist ceases from troubling, could not seek isolation amid sweeter surroundings than this sunlit lake, these tropical mountains, and the quaint, quiet hamlets of a primitive people, who as yet, thank Heaven, have not been infected with “Yankee hustle.”
The level of the surface of the water had sunk perceptibly since we were here a month ago, and many rocks were now visible which had then been covered. But I do not think the variation between the maximum height in the rainy season and the minimum in the dry is very great; I doubt if it exceeds eight or ten feet.
At midday we noticed that the climate into which we had come in the north-west corner of the lake was distinctly warmer than that of the other parts. We remembered the Soudan, towards which our faces were set, and knew that in the heat there we should think longingly of the waterside, in spite of all the worries inseparable from travelling in Abyssinia.
The “Sultan” of Delgi came to camp to welcome us as soon as he heard of our arrival. It was pleasant to meet this cheery, genial old
Habash again, and his visit put us in good spirits. He brought us a couple of chickens and some bread, and we showed our hospitality by offering him chartreuse. He drank half a pint at a draught without “turning a hair,” seemed none the worse for it, and wanted more. A man who remains sober after that performance must have a sound head and a strong body, but I do not recommend even the hardiest of my readers to attempt the feat. The Abyssinians who survive have inured their stomachs to excesses of abstinence from food as well as gluttonous excesses, an unwholesome and repulsive diet and the abuse of condiments, and they have constitutions à toute épreuve I may mention that the children, who would be the first to suffer from bad climatic conditions, and the women seemed, as a body, fairly healthy, though they eat raw flesh like the men and suffer from the consequent parasitical trouble.
Nothing was mentioned or seen of the “Deputy” who had tried to prevent us from reaching the lake. But we made kindly inquiry for the “Sultan’s” wife, who had shown us goodwill and sent us bread and tedj on our first arrival, and were glad to hear that the lady was in good health. At nightfall we saw that the grass was blazing in two places, and it was interesting to observe with what extraordinary swiftness the flames ran over the ground when the breeze from the lake fanned them.
INTERVIEWING THE SULTAN OF DELGI.
See p 170
THE SULTAN OF DELGI, AN OLD PRIEST, AND SLAVE CARRYING THE SHIELD.
See p 170
We had determined to show our liking for the “Sultan” by treating him handsomely when we gave the customary presents. He came into camp next day (February 11) as soon as we had finished breakfast, and we arranged the gifts on the table. They were a revolver, a folding-chair, a bottle of chartreuse, and a red silk cummerbund for his consort. He appeared to be well pleased and thanked us, through Johannes, with all the formalities of the country. We suggested that he should come for a row in the Berthon boat, but he backed out of this immediately. Then he had his new folding-chair carried to the shore, and sat there surrounded by his bodyguard, a force which would have had a great success in a pantomime. He followed our movements with much interest while we put the boat together, but he was plainly apprehensive when Crawley tested in still water the electric current-meter which he had used in calculating the outflow from the lake into the Blue Nile. It made a buzzing noise, and I think he suspected that it might “go off” at any moment. He
remarked that it was a watch for the water, but he soon retired, followed by his comedians under arms.
Everything in camp that could be cleaned in water was washed in the lake during the day, and the ground near our tents looked like an improvised laundry. It was strewn in all directions with articles spread out to dry. Those boys who had no change of garments, stayed in the water while their clothes were aired in the sunshine, and enjoyed it.
Both Christians and Mussulmans received an ox on this day in order that they might make biltong for the journey We bought flour and grain and sheep and fowls, and laid in as large a stock of provisions as we could carry for use in the uninhabited borderland between Delgi and Gallabat.
February 12 was our last day beside Lake Tsana, and the prospect of leaving it filled me with regret. The “Sultan” came into camp again, and in answer to one or two questions gave us the following information: that the rainfall on the margin of the lake in the wet season is not great; the heavy rains descend upon the heights around, and the floods are carried down the rivers and khors in overwhelming torrents, so that all the watercourses are then impassable. This circumstance, of course, has a very important bearing on the possibility of a commercial development of the region.
Before quitting the subject, I will bring to the reader’s notice Dr Stecker’s thoughtful conclusions as to the present relation of the River Abai to Lake Tsana:—
“I made another extremely interesting discovery in the Gorgora mountains, viz. of a remarkable shell, which by its character reminds one of the oyster.[103] We found both the shells and the living creatures in abundance on the shore. With lemon juice they taste like genuine oysters. But it is remarkable that I had already found this species in the Blue Nile, and that I found it later on the island of Dek, enclosed in unmistakable volcanic rock (tuff). I can only offer this explanation, that, at a time when Lake Tsana already existed, a great eruption took place in the south. According to my view the lake had its origin in tertiary times as a consequence of a great volcanic
movement in the north (at the Gorgora range). The Abai, which was previously an unimportant stream, and described the great curve which is indicated on my map by arrows, and now carries it round Dek and Dega, was forced in consequence to the south-western and southern shores, though its original course can still be traced quite distinctly. The second volcanic movement took place, according to my opinion, in the south, and the islands of Dek[104] and Dega in Lake Tsana owe their origin to it, as do a whole series of islands beside the eastern shore of the lake and the masses of rock of volcanic origin which encumber the course of the Blue Nile and lie scattered in the whole valley of that river.”[105]
The moon was full that night, and the lake and the mountains formed a glorious scene, which left in the mind a longing to behold it again. Lake Tsana has that haunting, attractive power which some places possess, and which prompts one to return to them in spite of all that commonsense says about obstacles and discomfort.
On February 13 we made an early start upon our return journey to the Soudan, and reached the top of the plateau at half-past ten. We saw nothing, after all, of Hyli’s men; I did not hear why they failed to join us. As we now retraced our steps over the same ground that we had traversed on the way to the lake, I shall not give any detailed account of our progress. In one day’s journey we covered a distance which had given us an arduous two days’ climb on the upward march, and we came again into the region of the Soudanese heat. The sequence of vegetation according to altitude was strikingly apparent during the descent. Throughout the first half of it we were in the cactus country, then in the bamboo zone, and, finally, among the mimosas and desert scrub. The heat proved trying to man and beast. We Europeans felt fagged and dull; I had three fever patients among our followers in the evening; and the donkeys straggled into camp jaded and spent.
An incident of the journey will show the nature of the road. A little while after we had passed the long and narrow gorge which has already been described, I caught sight of my valise and some other luggage stacked on a bank. Upon asking why it was there, I found
that the donkey which had carried the load had slipped from the path and had fallen and rolled about ninety or a hundred feet. The beast seemed none the worse for the adventure, and the boys were bringing up the baggage piecemeal from the ledge which had stopped the donkey. I have no doubt that its burden saved it; a rider might have performed the same service if his remains had kept in place. A mirror and a candle-globe which “accomplished the descent” were not injured.
In spite of the steepness and roughness of the path—the mountains are genuine sierras (saws)—I believe that no great trouble and expense would be needed to make this approach to Western Abyssinia easy and safe, but it would be impossible for camels.
On the following day we reached the banks of the River Gerar, on which there is a thick growth of bamboos. Many of these had fallen across the track. We were not so much impeded by them as we should have been but for our previous experience of this part of the road. We sent men ahead with axes to clear the path as well as they could. In the evening we lost one of our baggage animals for the first time; two donkeys fell on the road exhausted. We left them while we moved on into camp, in the hope that they would recover. One was brought in later, but the other was found to be in such a helpless and pitiable state that nothing remained but to put it out of its misery, and it was shot. Our camp was beside the hot springs which have already been mentioned. We found in the neighbouring huts apparently the same company that we had seen on the upward journey. I was not able to learn anything about the people.
On the following day we left the valley of the Gerar, crossed a high ridge, and then followed the course of the Shemal Warhar. When we reached the place where we had pitched our camp before, we found the trees charred and the ground blackened by fire. There was no shade, and the water in the pools was very low. So we marched about three miles to another camping-ground called Ananta. Here water and shade were plentiful.
On February 16 we reached the bank of the Gundar Warhar. From midday till three o’clock the thermometer showed a temperature of 98° F. We had now entered the region in which robber bands are active. On the 17th we passed two parties of traders and heard from them our first news of the world outside Abyssinia. This was that Slatin Pasha had arrived at Gallabat on a tour of inspection. We thought of Gallabat—by contrast—as a centre of civilization. Our halting-place was a pleasant, shady spot beside the river-bed, in which water was abundant. In the afternoon Crawley shot a waterbuck. I secured a much smaller prize in the form of another civet-cat. We heard that a large crocodile had been seen in a pool about two hundred yards from camp, but saw nothing of the beast. At night we were much plagued by mosquitoes and the beetles which swarm on one and do not bite, but are malodorous in death—a most perplexing pest.
On the 18th the temperature rose to 101° F. in the shade. We made a short march, but one of our donkeys succumbed and had to be left for the vultures. We found that the grass about our former camping-ground had been trodden down and a part of it burned. The water, too, was much lower in the pools, the dry season being now far advanced, though it was still abundant to meet all the requirements likely to arise in that country before the rains. At this time of the year the trees cast their leaves, so that there is much less shade along the track. On the 19th we reached the “warsha,” which is the first from Gallabat on the road to Abyssinia and the last on the return journey The ground was in a filthy state, and it was evident that many people had encamped at the place since we left it. Water was plentiful; it was drawn from a deep pool. To our horror, just as we had settled to rest in our chairs, we saw some of our boys and camp-followers washing their persons and their clothes in the water which we were to drink! One of them was a leprous trader. We raised some first-class trouble about this, and posted a sentry by the pool. But all we could do was to boil and filter the water thoroughly—and think of the other people who had bathed in it since we last tasted it. On Friday, February 20, we arrived at Gallabat.
I will not dilate on the traveller’s delight in seeing again a batch of envelopes addressed to him in familiar handwriting. It is one of the pleasures which is becoming rare, but a trip into Western Abyssinia still provides an opportunity for it. In the town I met the Doctor of Kassala. He was then making a tour of inspection with the object of discovering cases of leprosy. The Egyptian Government has wisely ordained that lepers shall be compulsorily segregated; there is a hospital for them at Gallabat, which serves as a receiving station. An attempt is being made to form a colony of these stricken people, where they may cultivate the land and live by their labour
The water which we had drunk at “Warsha No. 1” punished us rather severely for our rashness. And while suffering from this inward infirmity, I saw the camels that were waiting to wreak their eccentricities upon us during the remainder of the journey. It was our intention to follow the upper course of the river Atbara through Sofi to Kassala. This was formerly a frequented route, but the Dervishes had destroyed all the villages that stood beside it, and, as a consequence, the disused track had become impassable. It was then being repaired, but the work was still some way short of completion, and it seemed that we might be compelled, after all, to return as we had come by the road through Gedaref. However, our chief telegraphed to Mr. Flemming, asking him to send a gang of men, if possible, to the spot where the track was in the worst condition, and this he did. So we were able to carry out our plan, and had the satisfaction of being the first travellers who journeyed by the repaired highway from Gallabat to Kassala.
On February 22 we paid off the escort and followers who had gone into Abyssinia with us. Johannes received as presents a revolver and a watch, the others a gift of money. We found that nearly all preferred a settlement by means of drafts on Colonel Harrington at Addis Abbiba. If they carried cash through the “rain country” they would run a great risk of losing both their money and their lives. Before we bade farewell to Johannes, he told us that we had on one occasion, unconsciously, been in no small danger in Abyssinia. At a certain village a rumour was spread that King Menelek had sold the lake to the British. The supposed transfer was
by no means to the taste of the Habashes—and we represented the English interest. Disregarding the niceties of French grammar, Johannes remarked that he had beaucoup de peur at the time. In our case ignorance was bliss.
On this day we said good-bye to Zodi. He had decided to return to his own country with Johannes. We all wished that he could have finished the journey with us, but felt that we should not be justified in discharging him finally in a country where he was ignorant of the language. He took his leave of us, bowing to the ground and addressing us in his own tongue. His face bore an expression which it is difficult to describe; he was showing his spotlessly white teeth in a smile, but he was half crying nevertheless. I have always wished that I could have engaged him as my servant. He was an excellent and faithful lad, and I believe that he did us valuable service when we were near Zegi, and the Fituari’s son was inclined to give trouble. Zody, as a native of the lakeside (Korata), was able to influence his neighbours on the opposite shore when a Habash from another district might have been disregarded or set at naught.
My two companions went out with their rifles in the afternoon, and there was no slight commotion in Gallabat when they were heard firing at antelopes in the distance. During our absence, as I have already mentioned, an Abyssinian band had raided two villages and carried off thirty-eight men and boys into slavery. The noise of the discharges made the natives think that the slave-raiders were at their work again. The very serious political consequences which these incursions will certainly cause sooner or later have been alluded to before.
It may interest my readers, if, before saying the last word about Gallabat, I give a brief account of the battle which took place there in March, 1889, between King John of Abyssinia and the Dervishes. Perhaps no incident in modern history so strangely combines the oriental and the mediæval atmospheres, or so oddly illustrates the effect of weapons of precision in warfare of the biblical type. A detailed narrative has been given by Mr. Augustus Wylde.[106]
The Dervishes had invaded Abyssinia in 1887, at a time when the forces of the Negus were scattered. They defeated Tecla Haimanot and devastated the region to the north of Lake Tsana. In 1888 they renewed the invasion, but in the meanwhile the King of Godjam’s army had been reinforced and his troops had been rearmed. The Dervishes suffered a severe defeat. The Negus completed his preparations in the winter of 1888-9, and gave notice to the Khalifa of his intention to march upon Omdurman. The Dervishes massed about seventy thousand men at Gallabat, where they occupied a large zareba which was protected by a dyke and some redoubts. They also had artillery in the fort where the scorpions have now become so formidable. But they were badly supplied with smallarms, whereas King John’s men had a plentiful stock of effective rifles of a French pattern.
The Dervish position was surrounded by the Abyssinian army. The Khalifa’s men were crowded in their enclosure, and, owing to its construction, could not fire from it without exposing themselves. The Abyssinian marksmen did terrible execution, and finally a body of King John’s horse, supported by a hot rifle-fire at short range, burned the thorns of the zareba at several points and filled up the ditch. The position was then “rushed,” and only a few of the Dervishes, aided by the smoke and the confusion, escaped.
“Facing King Johannes’s bodyguard,” says Mr. Wylde, “one small redoubt, strongly fortified and held by the black slave soldiers of the Dervishes, still held out, and their rifle-fire was doing some execution. The King, getting angry that it had not been taken in the rear by the troops that had entered the sides of the fortifications, and who were engaged in plundering, went forward to attack it with his followers. The gaudy dresses worn by his staff, with their silver shields and the bright silks, drew the fire of the defenders. King Johannes was struck by a bullet that traversed the lower part of his arm and entered the intestines near the navel, taking into the wound a part of his dress. He still gave orders, and kept on the field till the redoubt was rushed and those in it all killed.”
The King died about twenty-four hours after he was wounded. Quarrels with regard to the succession immediately commenced
among the Rases, and instead of following up their victory, they retired at once into Abyssinia with their captives and plunder, in order to serve the interests of their respective factions.
“On the 11th, in the afternoon, old Ras Areya, the King’s uncle, a man nearly eighty years of age, who had played a wonderful part in Abyssinian history, was left with a few followers to bring back the King’s body for burial. The body had been cut in half so that it could be carried more easily, and was put in a clothes-box so that it could be laden on a mule. Only a few of the King’s devoted servants remained behind, with a few priests and their armed servants. On the 12th, while following the Taccazze road, the sad and mournful procession was overtaken by a few Dervishes and some Arabs, who had returned on the night of the 10th to reconnoitre Gallabat, and when they found it abandoned they had followed one of the lines of retreat to find out what was going on and the reason the Abyssinian victory had not been followed up.”[107]
Ras Areya could have escaped, but died, with a few of his soldiers and the bravest of the King’s servants, defending all that remained of his liege. He “was last seen standing alongside the box containing the King’s body, after having expended all his ammunition, with his shield and sword in his hands.” He was speared by a Dervish from behind. The Khalifa made no attempt to invade Abyssinia in force after the battle of Gallabat.
Mr. Wylde received this information from a priest who was present and who escaped, though he was badly wounded. I was told that the King died in a small hut, attended by two monks and four nuns, who tried to keep his death secret, and that an old woman, a servant of the nuns, being captured later by the Dervishes, revealed, in order to save her life, the line of retreat of the party that was bearing away the King’s body.
The encounter took place at night, and such a scene in the moonlight seems more like an imagined passage in an epic than an occurrence in the closing years of the last century. I do not know whether the nuns accompanied Ras Areya, nor what their fate was.
The Dervishes cut off the King’s head and carried it to the Khalifa at Omdurman.
There are numerous graves around Gallabat of those who fell in the engagement. These are mounds, on which are laid agates brought from the bed of the Atbara. The tombs of the Soudanese have upon them a calabash, or more usually a pair, containing grain and water—presumably to satisfy the needs of the dead man’s shade. I do not know how the custom of solacing the deceased thus is reconciled with the doctrine of Islam.
CHAPTER XII
T valley of the River Atbara can now scarcely be regarded as unfamiliar country. Those who wish to read a most lively, interesting account of all the opportunities that it offers to the sportsman, should turn to Sir Samuel Baker’s book, “The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia.” Our journey from Gallabat to Cairo by way of Kassala can be quite briefly described.
In reply to our inquiry we received a telegram from Mr. Flemming, who told us that a guide would meet our party at an appointed spot to show us the now disused and obscured road, and on the morning of February 23 we left Gallabat. About four hours’ travelling over flat, rocky country brought us, by an easy descent, to the Atbara. The banks here are low, and the bed is hard and clean, with tracts of shingle in it. The breadth of the course is about a hundred and fifty yards, and there were large pools of clear, good water. Many of them were deep. At this season of the year an insignificant stream trickles from pool to pool, and sometimes disappears altogether. There are big fish in these pools, and they need cautious handling. I took my tackle after we had pitched our camp, landed a two-pounder, and was “wool-gathering” a few moments afterwards when a powerful fish seized my bait with a dash and had me off my balance in an instant; result, a bruised knee and two hooks lost.
Next day Dupuis moved ahead of the party with his Soudanese “Shikari,” and in a couple of hours stalked and shot a gazelle and a bushbuck with a fine pair of horns; later in the day a haartebeest fell to his rifle. We saw great numbers of gazelles and ariels, and the country was full of game. The tracks left by many kinds of animals going to and from the river were visible in all directions. In addition, guinea-fowl were plentiful. The ground near the river was covered with dry grass, and there was a thin but continuous growth of
mimosa scrub. The baobab tree flourishes in this region.[108] We camped on the site of a village that had been laid waste by the Dervishes. No vestige of it remained but potsherds.
When the flesh of the animals was being cut into strips for use as biltong, a host of the carrion birds of all orders gathered around us— crows, hawks, vultures, and marabous. There was something disquieting and unpleasant in the presence of these groups of eagerly expectant scavengers, which faced us wherever we turned, and eyed us from every tree. That night the mosquitoes “rushed” my curtains and made a most successful raid, retreating at sunrise from the stricken—and bitten—field.
Shortly after we had started on February 25, I saw, at a little distance from camp, a piece of neatly made basketwork, and picked it up. Further on I found another. On making inquiry I was told that these were parts of game-traps. A log is buried in the ground, and a piece of cord with a noose at the loose end is attached to it. Then a hole is dug where tracks of game are seen, the noose is “set” in the hole, the basketwork is laid down to cover the trap, and the cord is hidden by a layer of earth. When a beast steps into the hole, the movement of the basketwork pulls the noose tight around its leg. The more the beast struggles, the firmer the grip becomes; finally, as a rule, the log is pulled up by its exertions, and the hobbled creature limps away, but is easily caught, and can then be killed as the Mohammedan rite requires.
HEAD OF A HAARTEBEEST
See p. 184.
‘LATES NILOTICUS’ CAUGHT WITH A TROUT-ROD.
See p 200
The track in this region is kept open by the cutting down of mimosa scrub. It lies upon “cotton soil” with fissures in it, large and small. The camels, which stare stupidly ahead while they walk, are constantly stumbling on account of these holes; their legs seem to have a marvellous instinct for finding them. Another difficulty was the descent and ascent in numerous little khors which run down to the river bed, and the camel is singularly clumsy when it leaves level ground. We pitched our camp at midday on the site of another deserted village, called Wad Abou Simam. Before that time each of my friends had shot a waterbuck. Very sensibly, the Anglo-Egyptian Administration imposes a fine on those who shoot the females of the larger antelopes.
I think we must have seen hundreds of thousands of guinea-fowl during the last two days’ journey. They were in the jungle of mimosa scrub and neblik and on the shingle in the river bed, where by reason of their colour they can scarcely be distinguished from the
stones; in fact, they swarmed in all directions. I took my gun into the dry course of the Atbara and sat down near an islet which was covered with very dry grass. This was a favourite place of refuge for the guinea-fowl. Dupuis drove them to the bank, where they rose, and flocks of them flew towards the little island. In this way I had some fine practice, and the birds were always useful in the larder. Travellers in this region should set up their mosquito-curtains with care. I was remiss about it that night, and the determined and virulent insects bit my scalp, face, and hands through the covering. The next evening I was more attentive to the matter, and formed a frame by means of four dhurra stalks. This arrangement, with draping, had all the advantages and some of the solid dignity of a four-post bedstead.
On the following day (February 26) we encamped at Sherafa. There was no incident worthy of mention during the journey. In the afternoon Dupuis and I saw a crocodile within range in the river bed, and fired at the same moment. The only visible result was that he scuttled into a pool and disappeared.
On the 27th Crawley brought down an ariel, but we had entered a district in which game was much rarer. We reached a well at a place called Tubra Cullah. This has been dug at the edge of a rock, the water was brackish, and there was no trough for the camels. We had now left the course of the Atbara, but had, fortunately, brought with us water from the pools which was sufficient for the men. On this day the temperature rose to 107° F. in the shade. The road, which had at that time been cleared, ended at Tubra Cullah, and here we were met by the guide whom Mr. Flemming had sent to show us the unrepaired track between this place and Sofi.
HADENDOWA, CAMEL DRIVER.
See p 186
See p 186
On the following day we marched to Goratia. Our guide had misinformed us as to the distance, which was much greater than we had expected. The heat was scarcely endurable, and none of our marches had been more fatiguing. How we longed for the coolness and freshness of the lakeside! Close to the village was a well with good water and troughs for the camels, which had not drunk for nearly forty-eight hours. We found the inhabitants very willing to help our men. While we were passing through Goratia the women within the huts warbled their welcome in the usual manner and with unmistakable enthusiasm. We learned that when our party was first sighted, a rumour spread that we were Abyssinian raiders, and the non-combatants rushed to the shelter of their homes. The relief of the villagers was evidently very great when they found that we were English people.
The following instance may serve to show the difficulty which British administrators have in suppressing the slave traffic.
DINKA BOY, CAMEL DRIVER.
A certain man, a native of the White Nile region, appeared one morning before Colonel G. at Rosaires and said that while he was taking a convoy of slaves into Abyssinia, he had been stopped by the sheikh of a village in the Colonel’s district. This sheikh, he asserted, took possession of the slaves, and bound him and his companion, to whom they belonged. In order to keep what he had captured and destroy those who could bring him to justice, the sheikh had the two slave-dealers brought to a precipice and cast over it. Ono was killed, the other escaped with whole limbs. Then he repaired to the Governor’s quarters to report the matter
Colonel G. ordered the sheikh to attend and bring the slaves that he had taken. The sheikh, astounded to hear that the Moudir[109] had learned what he had done, attributed his misfortune to the Will of God with the usual phrase “Inshallah,”[110] and started for the Moudirieh accompanied by the slaves. On the way he consoled himself with the words, “God will help me” (Rabonna effrighi).
While he was upon the journey he met two native merchants returning to their village, and immediately he concluded that Allah had heard his prayer. “Um del Allah!” said he, “God is good.” He caused the merchants to be bound, and then he had the slaves brought before him, and made them all swear upon the Koran that these two men were they who had raided the village and carried the people away captive. And the merchants were forced to follow him with the slaves.
When the sheikh arrived at the Moudirieh, the Governor ordered him to deliver up the men in whose possession he had found the slaves—and the sheikh forthwith had the two merchants led forward. Colonel G. was in a dilemma. Evidently the raider who had complained to him was telling the truth, but all the slaves swore that they knew nothing of the man. Questioning was of no avail, and did not shake their evidence. Then the Moudir, turning suddenly to a little girl, asked her, “Who told you to say that these two accused men raided your village and took you away?” The little girl instantly pointed to the sheikh and answered, “Please, sir, that man.”
This decided the matter Some time after, the body of the slavedealer’s companion was found. I did not hear what befell the sheikh, but the Moudir was not a man to be trifled with, and I have no doubt that justice was done.
The sheikh of Goratia came into camp to greet us, and afterwards sent us hot coffee, which was excellent. It is the most refreshing drink of all after a tiring journey in the baking sunshine.
In this village we found a man who declared that he could act as guide to the junction of the Atbara and the River Salaam, a point which is of interest in connection with the all-important problem of water-storage and distribution. It has not been sketched or mapped —indeed, I believe that no European has yet succeeded in reaching it, though the British officers in the Soudan have been eager to discover the spot. My two companions arranged to start on the following morning and endeavour to make a rough survey of the place.
At Goratia I obtained a photograph which shows clearly the amulet worn by almost all the Soudanese. The youth who wore it had been married about a week, and the scars on his back illustrate a singular custom among the people. Sir Samuel Baker has described it.
“There is but little lovemaking among the Arabs. The affair of matrimony usually commences by a present to the father of the girl, which, if accepted, is followed by a similar advance to the girl herself, and the arrangement is completed. All the friends of both parties are called together for the wedding; pistols and guns are fired off, if possessed. There is much feasting, and the unfortunate bridegroom undergoes the ordeal of whipping by the relations of his bride, in order to test his courage. Sometimes this punishment is exceedingly severe, being inflicted with the coorbash or whip of hippopotamus hide, which is cracked vigorously about his ribs and back. If the happy husband wishes to be considered a man worth having, he must receive the chastisement with an expression of enjoyment; in which case the crowds of women in admiration again raise their thrilling cry. After the rejoicings of the day are over, the bride is led in
