Nightmare at Scapa Flow: The Truth About the Sinking of HMS Royal Oak
Nightmare at Scapa Flow
THE TRUTH ABOUT THE SINKING OF HMS ROYAL OAK
This eBook edition published in 2012 by
Birlinn Limited
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Newington Road
Edinburgh
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www.birlinn.co.uk
First published in 1980 by Cressrelles Publishing Company Limited, Malvern
This edition published by Birlinn Ltd, 2008
Copyright © the Estate of H.J. Weaver 1980
The moral right of H.J. Weaver to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form without the express written permission of the publisher. .
ISBN: 978-1-84341-042-3
eBook ISBN: 978-0-85790-518-5
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Dedication
The battleship HMS Royal Oak was lost in Scapa Flow, the ‘impregnable’ main anchorage of the Home Fleet, on the night of October 13–14, 1939. Each year, on the Saturday closest to that date, surviving members of the crew gather before the war memorial at Southsea to pay tribute to the 833 officers and men who went down with their ship or died in the inhospitable waters of the Flow. No chaplain was present at the first service of remembrance I attended, and ‘Taffy’ Davies, a Royal Marine corporal at the time of the sinking, stepped with quiet dignity into the role of what he called ‘the sin bo’sun’. The usual brief silence was observed, and he asked everyone to remember not only former shipmates, but ‘sailors of every nation who fought and died for a cause they believed to be just’.
To those same men I dedicate this book.
H.J. WEAVER
January 1980
Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored –
ALDOUS HUXLEY
Contents
Illustrations
Glossary
1 The Roots of Controversy
2 Wrong-way Charlie
3 The Car on the Shore
4 What the Hell was that, then?
5 Daisy, Daisy
6 Escape
7 Board of Inquiry
8 Flowers for a Fallen Hero
9 Things Bad Begun
10 Neger in the Woodpile
Sources
Acknowledgements – Appendix A
Flaws in the Scapa Defences – Appendix B
The Admiral and the Bandmaster – Appendix C
Illustrations
The U-47 sailing from a French port
HMS Royal Oak during the First World War at full speed showing her guns at full elevation
Construction of the Churchill Barriers
HMS Royal Oak at anchor in Scapa Flow in 1939
The U-47
Buoy that marks the wreck of HMS Royal Oak and the grave of her crew
Günther Prien and Oberleutnant Hans Wessel receiving congratulations from the builders of U-47
Günther Prien being greeted by Vice Admiral Dönitz on 13 December 1939
Günther Prien being honoured by Hitler, October 1939
Part of one of the torpedoes which hit HMS Royal Oak
A sketch map of Scapa Flow
A letter written by Prien
Part of U-47’s log-book
Glossary
In order to keep things as simple as possible, distances are given in yards and land miles, which everyone understands, rather than sea miles. It has not been possible, however, to avoid nautical terminology altogether, and this very brief glossary may be helpful to some readers. The prefix HMS is used for the first mention of each naval vessel.
Port
The left-hand side of a ship, looking towards the bow.
Starboard
The right-hand side of a ship, looking towards the bow.
Latitude
Position north or south of the equator, given in degrees, minutes and, sometimes, seconds (55º06'18"N). One degree equals 60 miles (69.09 land miles). There are 60 minutes in a degree, 60 seconds in a minute.
Longitude
Position east or west of Greenwich. One degree equals 60 sea miles at the equator but diminishes as you travel north or south.
Knot
One sea mile per hour (equivalent to 1.151 m.p.h.).
Bearing
The relation of a ship to another ship, or to one or more fixed points on land. The compass is divided into 360 degrees. North is 0º or 360º; east, 90º; south, 180º; west 270º.
ACOS
Admiral Commanding Orkneys and Shetlands.
PWSS
Port Wireless and Signal Station.
1
The Roots of Controversy
No naval incident of the last war has caused such a complex and enduring controversy as the sinking of HMS Royal Oak. The event has been dealt with in official and unofficial histories of the war at sea, it has been the subject of dozens of newspaper and magazine articles; and it has inspired one novel and three investigative books, the most recent of which appeared in 1976. All of these accounts are incomplete, inaccurate or contradictory – and frequently all three – with the result that, after 40 years and several million words, exactly what happened in Scapa Flow on that disastrous night for Britain is still far from clear.
It is the normal practice for writers lacking any formal qualifications in naval or historical matters to nod in the direction of their betters at about this point and acknowledge that ‘no serious historian doubts that Royal Oak was torpedoed by the German submarine U-47, commanded by Kapitänleutnant Günther Prien’. However, if facts are the raw material of history, it is extraordinary how many facts historians have failed to provide about what is recognised as one of the great submarine exploits of all time. It is possible to read everything published to date about this spectacular feat of arms without being able to give a precise answer to any of the following basic questions:
• What ships of the Royal Navy were in Scapa Flow on the night Royal Oak was lost?
• Lt. Prien says in his log, or war diary, that the main Fleet anchorage was empty. Is this unlikely statement true? If not, what ships were there?
• When did the hunt for a suspected U-boat begin . . . what ships took part . . . when were the first depth charges dropped?
• One of the reasons given by Lt. Prien for making his escape from Scapa Flow after sinking Royal Oak is that he thought he had been seen by the driver of a car which stopped opposite him on the shore. Assuming that there was a car on the shore, who was the driver . . . where was he going . . . did he see the U-boat . . . why has he never come forward?
• According to Wilhelm Spahr, navigator of U-47, crew members on the submarine’s bridge saw three guards on the shore as well as a car. Assuming this statement to be correct, who were these guards . . . what were they doing . . . why did they not see the U-boat?
• Lt. Prien also claimed to have torpedoed a twin-funnelled ‘northern ship’, subsequently named as the battlecruiser HMS Repulse, anchored some 600 yards beyond Royal Oak. The official British version of events is that Repulse was not in Scapa Flow at the time and Lt. Prien mistook the elderly, and comparatively tiny, sea-plane carrier HMS Pegasus for the battlecruiser. Where precisely was Pegasus anchored in relation to Royal Oak?
• In the light of what can be deduced about visibility in Scapa Flow on the night in question, is
it likely that Lt. Prien saw Pegasus at all?
• According to the crew of U-47, part of the Scapa Flow defences reacted as if Royal Oak had been bombed, not torpedoed, and searchlights criss-crossed the sky above the U-boat. Was there an air raid alarm in Scapa Flow . . . how many land-based searchlights were in position . . . what action was taken by their crews?
• One version of the U-47 story claims that the submarine, having escaped from Scapa Flow, was subjected to an attack by an armada of Royal Navy destroyers and patrol boats from dawn to dusk on October 14. Which British warships were involved in this action, assuming that it took place?
• According to another version of the U-47 story, this attack took place on October 15, not October 14. Assuming that this is the correct date, which British warships were involved?
• Who was blamed officially for the loss of Royal Oak?
• Was the blame justified?
It is the lack of firm answers to questions such as these which has ensured the continuation of the Royal Oak controversy for 40 years. The roots of the controversy are embedded in the fact that nobody has yet succeeded in reconciling Lt. Prien’s story with the story told by the Royal Oak survivors, who, in the forthright manner of men of the sea, say that the German version of events is largely ‘a load of old cobblers’.
‘Taffy’ Davies, the former Royal Marine corporal mentioned in the dedication to this book, is considered one of the most reliable Royal Oak witnesses, having escaped from the ship fully clothed and without even getting his feet wet, and he is today on terms of personal friendship with some ex-members of U-47’s crew. Yet the first time I met him he said: ‘Sinking the old gal when we all thought we were safe inside Scapa Flow was an exploit of which the German Navy could be proud. Why didn’t they leave it at that? Why all the inventions?
‘The only way to avoid the conclusion that Lt. Prien was a complete and utter bloody liar is by saying Dr Goebbels put words into his mouth to make a better story for the German people – and, even if that was the case, he must have connived at it, which is not what you might expect of a German naval officer.’ Mr Davies is also convinced that the only reason why the Admiralty has never officially denied Lt. Prien’s story is ‘because it shows the Admiralty in a much better light than the truth does’.
Naval historians shrug aside these objections with the explanation that ‘Lt. Prien may have made a few mistakes in the course of a difficult night operation’. The Royal Oak survivors reply that this is rubbish and the inaccurate statements in the German story cannot be explained away as a few understandable errors in the dark. Even after all these years some of them still maintain that Lt. Prien’s account is at such variance with the truth that there can be only one explanation: he never saw the inside of Scapa Flow and their ship was either torpedoed by another U-boat commander, or blew up accidentally, or was blown up by a saboteur.
The situation is complicated by the fact that what might now be called the German story is made up of several strands. First there is Lt. Prien’s log. Then there is the war diary of Grand Admiral Karl Dönitz, who (as Commodore Dönitz) was in charge of the U-boat war in 1939. This gives details of radio reports from U-47 and Lt. Prien’s personal report on his safe return to Germany.
Furthermore, some unofficial sources exist. Lt. Prien made a broadcast from Berlin about his exploit. A number of newspaper stories also appeared, based on interviews with him and his crew. These were followed in 1940 by an autobiography, Mein Weg Nach Scapa Flow, which was published in English after the war. In addition, his crew have added various elements in post-war interviews, including the three guards on the shore, the searchlights in the sky, and the attack on U-47 on either October 14 or 15.
One of four typed copies of Lt. Prien’s log, together with an accompanying map which shows the course taken by U-47 inside Scapa Flow, was captured at the end of the war. The log, with two different translations, is now held at Greenwich Maritime Museum. There seems no reason to doubt its authenticity. A document attached to it shows that it was examined by several German planning officers in March, 1942, when an aerial torpedo attack on Scapa Flow was under consideration.
The log describes how Lt. Prien slipped into the Flow through Kirk Sound, one of the four narrow eastern entrances, shortly after midnight, having negotiated a northerly course on the surface around the blockships which were supposed to make the passage impossible. By 0027 hours, still on the surface, he was heading westwards across the Flow towards the main Fleet anchorage. It was so bright that he could see from a range of 9,000 yards that the anchorage was empty. He also feared that U-47 was about to expose herself to detection by the guard at Hoxa Sound, one of the Flow’s southern entrances, which was protected by a boom. U-47 went about and made for the north-east corner of the Flow.
Here, at last, Lt. Prien found two ‘fat fellows’. A pencilled note in the margin identifies them as Repulse and Royal Oak. In the first attack, one torpedo struck the starboard bow of Repulse. Lt. Prien stood off, reloaded and returned for a second attack with a salvo of three torpedoes on Royal Oak. All three torpedoes struck their target, there was a spectacular explosion, and Lt. Prien decided to make his escape, partly because he feared he had been seen by the driver of the car on the shore, partly because – as one would expect in the ordinary course of events – the anchorage had ‘sprung to life’.
Back in Kirk Sound, he took the gap to the south of the blockships. The tide was now falling and he had to battle against a fierce 10-knot current. Nevertheless, by 0215 the U-boat had regained the comparative safety of the open sea. By dawn, when she submerged, U-47 had crossed the Moray Firth. From there the U-boat made her way home largely as she had come, proceeding by night, lying hidden by day, and eventually reached Wilhelmshaven on the morning of Tuesday, October 17. Later, Lt. Prien and his crew were flown to Kiel, then to Berlin, where they received a heroes’ welcome and a personal audience with the Führer.
According to Admiral Dönitz, U-47 sent a radio message on October 15 saying that Royal Oak had been sunk and Repulse damaged, and, on reaching Wilhelmshaven, Lt. Prien repeated these claims. His subsequent broadcast and the newspaper accounts which appeared next morning added some minor details. The really dramatic version of his story, however, is contained in Mein Weg Nach Scapa Flow, given the title I Sank The Royal Oak when it was published in Britain in 1954.
After dealing with the first attack, in which Repulse was damaged, this is how it describes the last moments of Royal Oak: ‘A wall of water shot up towards the sky. It was as if the sea suddenly stood up on end. Loud explosions came one after another like drumfire in a battle and coalesced into one mightily ear-splitting crash. Flames shot skyward, blue . . . yellow . . . red. Behind this hellish firework display the sky disappeared entirely. Like huge birds, black shadows soared through the flames, fell hissing and splashing into the water. Fountains yards high sprang up where they had fallen, huge fragments of the mast and funnels. We must have hit the munition magazine and the deadly cargo had torn the body of its own ship apart. It was as if the gates of hell had suddenly been torn open and I was looking into the flaming furnace . . .’
Lt. Prien then goes on to describe how the harbour ‘awoke to feverish activity. Searchlights flashed and probed with their long white fingers over the water and died. Lights were flitting here and there . . . small swift lights low over the water, the lights of destroyers and U-boat chasers. Like dragonflies they zig-zagged over the dark surface. If they caught us we were done for . . .’
Then, as U-47 struggled against the fierce current in Kirk Sound, ‘the headlight [sic] of a destroyer detached itself from the welter of light and came streaking towards us . . . It was a nightmare. There we lay, held fast by an invisible power, while death came closer, ever closer. A spot of light flashed dot-dash-dot. “He is signalling,” whispered Endrass [note: one of U-47’s two watch officers]. The boat shuddered as it strained against the current. We must get out . . . we must get out . . . Then �
� wonder of wonders – the pursuer turned aside. The light slid away over the water and then came the weeyum of the first depth charges.’
It is Lt. Prien’s story which the world has accepted. But the Royal Oak survivors maintain that it is false in most major respects: it was a dark night, not a bright night; Repulse had left Scapa Flow and the only ship anywhere near Royal Oak was Pegasus; the end of Royal Oak was quiet, not spectacular; and Scapa Flow did not spring to life but remained gloomy and silent while they struggled for their lives in the chill October sea.1
In the course of various attempts to reconcile these two opposing versions of the exploit, there is hardly a detail, no matter how small, that has not been mulled over and argued about. For everyone prepared to say one thing, it is usually possible to find someone prepared to say exactly the opposite, even when the point at issue can easily be settled by simple research.
The car on the shore has become a car with one blazing headlamp, a car with two blazing headlamps, a truck with two blazing headlamps and a man on a bicycle, and the incident is supposed to have occurred as U-47 passed the village of St Mary’s on the shores of Kirk Sound during the penetration of Scapa Flow; immediately after the salvo of three torpedoes struck Royal Oak (although U-47 was nearly two miles from the nearest road at the time); and as U-47 passed St Mary’s on her way out of Scapa Flow.
Debates about visibility include confident assertions that there was a big, bright moon and no moon at all, brilliant Northern Lights, intermittent Northern Lights and no Northern Lights. It has been said that Lt. Prien torpedoed no other ship except Royal Oak. Alternatively it has been argued that, in addition to Royal Oak, he torpedoed Pegasus, the twin-funnelled battlecruiser HMS Hood, the twin-funnelled battlecruiser HMS Renown,2 or the twin-funnelled and partly demilitarised battleship HMS Iron Duke, which served as the headquarters of Admiral Sir Wilfred French, Admiral Commanding, Orkneys and Shetlands (ACOS).