The Yankee mining squadron

Details of preparation have been only briefly touched upon in the preceding chapters, though actually their influence on the success of the operation deserves more prominence. It will not be supposed that the new squadron just grew, or that in the active operations everything just broke fair. On the contrary, success was earned by logical, consistent preparation, extending back over years and by sound organization and execution when the plan was launched. Hard work, development of doctrine, and prospective study, between 1914 and 1917, bore fruit, and, for the navy’s credit, the foresight which produced it deserves record along with the achievement itself.

While suitable and adequate material would ever be the first essential in such an operation, the all-important question lay in the personnel afloat. The excellent qualities of the new mine would be of no avail without proper laying of the barrage. Fortunately we already had a minelaying force, small but capable, so that we did not look abroad for instruction.

Prior to 1914, minelaying from a ship underway had received little attention in our navy, but when some early events of the great European war showed what a part mines were likely to play in the future, mining affairs were made the principal duty of Captain G. R. Marvell in the Navy Department, the conversion of two more minelayers was pushed to completion, and mine training was taken up in earnest in the fleet.

The hitherto solitary mine ship San Francisco was taken out of the heterogeneous group known as the Auxiliary Division of our fleet, to become the flagship of a separate organization for mining and mine sweeping, which was established on July 10, 1915, while Admiral F. F. Fletcher had the Atlantic fleet.

In the development of this new branch, which was under my command until September, 1917, one truth came out forcibly, that the sustained attention requisite throughout mining operations could only be insured by keeping everything up in man-of-war style. Laying and recovering mines was messy work, and in a ship of a type long obsolete, classed as auxiliary, and using a weapon of stealth barely tolerated, to maintain such a standard was not easy. As Sir Eric Geddes, First Lord of the British Admiralty, said in a speech in New York, “Before the war, minelaying was considered unpleasant work for a naval man, an occupation like that of rat-catching, and not attractive.”

Whatever aversion may have been felt quickly vanished in the growing interest that had been aroused. Besides its own specialty, the new branch joined the fleet’s tactical, gunnery, and strategic exercises, these last leading to new activities and to study of the possibilities of mines and of the logical functions of the Mine Force. Both Admiral Fletcher and his successor, Admiral H. T. Mayo, did all in their power to establish the new element firmly as a regular part of the mobile fleet. Their interest and encouragement had immediate effect in confirming the personnel’s sense of value, which had been engendered by the variety of their employment, the stimulating results of their efforts, and belief in the power of their weapon.

Experimenting with submarine nets was also taken up, and in our first six months of war, the Mine Force was employed chiefly in planting three nets in Chesapeake Bay, and one each in Long Island Sound and at Newport entrance. Success with the Long Island net, over five miles long, was only achieved after a hard struggle with a five-knot current, which time after time swept the net away or, crushing its buoys, pulled it under and entwined it with tons of kelp.

Such in outline was the scope of Mine Force activities during the 28 months prior to preparing for the North Sea expedition. We had not yet laid any minefields during the war, but as if in practice for the very operation to come, the Force, early in December, 1916, had laid a minefield off the Jersey Coast, below Sandy Hook—200 loaded mines, in three parallel lines laid simultaneously, and all taken up by next day—the press not notified. Various arrangements in connection with the handling and transportation of mines had been planned and actually practiced. For result—when the Northern Barrage project came under consideration, the question of practicability of the operation could be answered yes with confidence, and the subsequent working out of mining installations, organization, and training was guided by reliable data—all from our own experience.

Many-sided experience had produced a well-knit organization of units that were resourceful, self-reliant, and mutually helpful, well trained on sound lines in minelaying, singly and together. Long hours and work in all weathers were a matter of course. Quiet self-confidence was the mark of the Force spirit. And thus, although the original Mine Force was much too small for the great task ahead, its value as a nucleus and leaven for the greatly enlarged mine squadron to be formed could hardly be overstated.

Since the autumn of 1916, the principal Mine Force officers had been myself, as Force Commander, Commander H. V. Butler, commanding the flagship San Francisco and senior aid, Commander A. W. Marshall, U.S.S. Baltimore, and Commander T. L. Johnson, U.S.S. Dubuque. All these were to take part in the North Sea operation and were concerned in its preparation—myself in charge, Butler training the new crews, Marshall experimenting with the new mine, which Butler concluded, and Johnson helping to select the new ships, then going abroad for information. Their experience and their ships were invaluable both in preparation and afterwards. On the principle that, let material be old or new, discipline may be the best, the style of these seasoned men-of-war, aiming to match the highest naval standard, was always a strong influence in the squadron.

In October, 1917, with the original order to go ahead, which was accompanied by a word of strong approval, from the President down, the development of plans and coordination of all preparations became my principal duty in the Office of Naval Operations. Command of a minelayer and two years at the head of mining affairs in the Atlantic fleet had given me experience that was directly pertinent.

The intention being to lay the barrage as soon as possible, and counting five days as the least time between minelaying operations—coaling, embarking mines, out, laying, and back—the expected manufacturing output of 1000 mines a day demanded a minelaying squadron with capacity of 5000 mines at one time. Towards this, our San Francisco and Baltimore carried together only 350 mines. The eight new vessels would add 5350, thus providing a good margin, either for the loss of a ship or for speeding up.

No time was to be lost. The demand for ships, shipyard work, and ship equipment for other purposes was increasing every day. Within 10 days the Eastern Steamship Corporation’s fast passenger liners Massachusetts and Bunker Hill, running daily between New York and Boston, were purchased outright, becoming the Shawmut and Aroostook. Within a month the Southern Pacific freight steamers El Rio, El Dia, El Cid, and El Siglo were taken over, becoming Roanoke, Housatonic, Canonicus, and Canandaigua, respectively. Carrying 860 mines each they soon became known as the Big Four. The Old Dominion steamers Hamilton and Jefferson, familiar to passengers between New York and Norfolk, followed by December 6, 1917.

The task of making four freight ships habitable for crews of 400 men, at the same time carrying twice as many mines as any other vessel of their size, is not done by a wave of the hand, and as for the four passenger steamers taken, they were gutted like fish—saloons and cabins ripped out—before their conversion could begin. Although plans had to be based upon what could be done within a reasonable time, with material and labor scarce, all features had to conform to the requirements of the mining installations. These were almost entirely new on the scale contemplated, either in our own or any other service. There was little data available of similar installations, except some British mining memoranda and a few belated blueprints. Lieutenant DeSalis, R.N., kindly placed his experience at our disposal, which was a help, but attempts abroad had not made a success of mine elevators—which would form a cardinal feature of our installation—nor had others gone in for mine-carrying capacity to the extent we contemplated—which was the maximum number consistent with not squeezing the crew intolerably. Hence, little of their information proved applicable to our case. Experience in our own minelayers, however, San Francisco, Baltimore, and Dubuque, during the past three years, enabled many details to be decided with a confidence that subsequent results confirmed.

That winter of 1917-18 will be long remembered! Material was scarce, transportation congested, labor unsettled, fuel short, weather severe, haste and high prices everywhere. Much delay came from lack of interest among workmen. The campaign of addresses by good speakers explaining the need for the ships and the men’s own interest in doing their best, did not begin until sometime in February, and then only in a small way. There was insufficient supervision, the contractors were converting vessels to a type for which no model existed, and plans were not forthcoming as fast as wanted, often not in the logical order. Besides delays and losses of material in transportation, one trade in which labor was shortest—shipfitter—was the one on whose work much of the other had to wait.

By constant urging and anticipating probable delays, the work as a whole was kept always progressing, even if at times slowly. The captains to be, and their principal officers, came to the ships soon after their taking over, and by January 25, 1918, two of the largest ships, Roanoke and Housatonic, were enough advanced to be commissioned. Living conditions were extremely rough amid the dirt and disorder, made worse by the slush and mud in the unpaved shipyards; but the presence of officers and men on board exerted constant forward pressure, while they were becoming acquainted with their ships. In the conversion of the Shawmut and Aroostook at Boston Navy Yard, the ships’ companies worked in industrial gangs alongside the civilian employees, with such actual accomplishment and setting such an example, as to advance the date of completion materially. At the same time, their training progressed so well that, on June 16, 1918, only one week after completion, they started across.

Every 10 days or so during the five months shipyard work, I would go from Washington for a conference with the captains and the navy yard officers at New York and Boston, to keep in touch with the actual progress and the matters that appeared to need special attention. These conferences eliminated infinite writing and enabled closer touch to be kept with all preparations, additional effort to be more appropriately applied, than were possible by regular procedure alone, especially amid the swollen volume of correspondence in general. They developed, too, a good understanding among the officers, which made for future harmony and gained time towards the squadron’s readiness.

Before the new ships were delivered, a special camp at Newport had been provided for training their crews under Mine Force officers. The San Francisco and Baltimore gave some practical instruction on board, and the camp was supplemented elsewhere, so that few, if any, wholly untrained men went to any ship. Three gun crews were trained in the battleships for each minelayer, and the engineer personnel were kept under training at Philadelphia until wanted. For the officers, similar measures were taken to put them in touch with the methods and experience of the Mine Force, as far as this could be done with ships most of the time at shipyards, fitting out.

Unlike the old Mine Force, the new was to consist of organizations on shore as well as afloat, and for this an officer of flag rank was wanted. Rear Admiral Joseph Strauss, U.S.N., was selected as the new Commander of the Mine Force.

Long identified with ordnance matters and of distinguished experience at the Naval Ordnance Proving Ground and Smokeless Powder Factory, he was Chief of the Bureau of Ordnance for some years before going to command the U.S. Battleship Nevada, which he quitted to take command of the mine operation. On February 15, 1918, he came to temporary duty in the Office of Naval Operations, where he familiarized himself with all information bearing on the operation and its preparation, and after a tour of inspection to the ships and acquainting himself with the mine situation, he sailed for England with his aid, Lieutenant Noel Davis. U.S.N. On March 29, 1918, he assumed command of the Mine Force, with headquarters at U.S. Naval Base 18, Inverness, Scotland. Thereupon the original Mine Force, consisting only of ships, became Mine Squadron One, and it became my part to complete its preparations in the United States and command the active force afloat.

The new Mine Squadron One was organized on Wednesday, April 10, 1918, at Hampton Roads, Virginia, on board the squadron flagship San Francisco. I relieved Captain H. V. Butler, U.S.N., who had been in command of the Mine Force in the interval. He remained as captain of the flagship and was also my chief-of-staff—the same association that we had in the old Mine Force. Commander Bruce L. Canaga, U.S.N., who had been my invaluable assistant in Washington since the preparations began in November, came as my senior aid.

To us who had struggled through the long winter’s difficulties, it was a memorable event when the first new minelayer, the Roanoke, Captain Stearns, joined the flag, on Friday, 12th April, 1918. She was followed closely by the Housatonic, Commander Greenslade, and by the Canandaigua, Commander Reynolds, next day. All was arranged for their loading with mines, and they began at once. By a week later the Quinnebaug, Commander Mannix, and Canonicus, Commander Johnson, had joined, completing the number ready for service at that time.

Almost immediately the Roanoke was sent across ahead of the others, an inspection only 16 days after leaving the shipyard showing that her excellent condition warranted it. She was to help the Baltimore, already there, to finish laying the minefield in the North Irish Channel, described in a previous chapter, but though she arrived in good season and ready, through a change of plan the Roanoke was not employed there, proceeding instead to Invergordon.

The other four, with the San Francisco, continued the training program. An engine accident in the Housatonic, needing 10 days at Norfolk Navy Yard to repair it, delayed us a week, which was profitable for tying up the many loose ends left by the shipyards. Our second great event came on Sunday, 28 April, 1918, when the new squadron got underway together for the first time to exercise tactics and signals while en route from the Chesapeake for Provincetown. The day began and ended with steering gear troubles, and was followed by 40 hours of fog, which deprived us of valuable time that had been counted on. Tuesday, at 5 p.m., the San Francisco and Housatonic arrived at Provincetown. The Canandaigua was already maneuvering on the measured mile course while her diver was searching for a lost anchor. Canonicus was anchored inside. Quinnebaug reported herself anchored in the fog off Nantucket Lightship, repairing an engine break.

Next day, the morning fog lifted enough for all to begin standardizing over the measured course, afterwards proceeding to Gloucester Harbor, Massachusetts, where the final mine proving and the first practice minelaying by the new ships would be done. Strenuous days these, especially for captains! Housatonic asked permission to lag behind awhile, arriving at Gloucester very late. “Sorry to drag you over at this unchristian hour, Greenslade, but I wanted to see you about to-morrow’s work.” “Oh! never mind, sir. This is the life!”

Quinnebaug joined next afternoon, but she still needed some engine repairs which required navy yard assistance, and was accordingly ordered at once to Boston. More than unwelcome there with mines on board, the work and her departure were heartily speeded.

After scarcely any let-up since the ships had left the shipyards four weeks previously, a Sunday, May 5, 1918, was devoted to a well-earned rest. And now had to be decided whether to continue training longer or not. Outside of the ships singly, little had been done. They had not even been all together since the first evening at sea. Yet the mine bases were in such need of the 500 men that we were to bring them that, although only a meager part of the training had been carried out, it was decided to push on. There would be tactics and gunnery exercise en route, and possibly other training that had been omitted might be made up then too.

And so the original period of time, estimated as necessary to prepare, was adhered to, namely: in 45 days after leaving the shipyards to be at the North Sea base, with coal and mines on board, ready for a minelaying operation. Despite the numerous delays and mishaps, our arrival in Scotland, May 26, 1918, was on the fortieth day from the fifth ship leaving the yard, and all ships were ready for duty.