[Battle Cruiser]
AT GLASGOW - COMMISSIONING
Monday, 7th May
I am writing this in my cabin on board the Ramillies, where I have been installed for 24 hours. We commissioned the day before yesterday, though I have been in Glasgow since the 1st May, living at the Central Hotel, and coming down here every day. The ship has been built at Beardmores, Dalmuir.
We commissioned her on Saturday, 5th May. I had never commissioned a ship before, and though it was certainly a trying day, it was not so bad as I should have expected it to be, judging from what I had heard. We already had 300 men living in the Dalmuir Town Hall, and they marched on board first. A draft of 500 or 600 arrived at about 9 a.m. from Devonport. Most of the forenoon was spent in settling into the ship, showing them where to put their gear, etc. After lunch we exercised fire, collision, Wireless Telegraphy, doors, and Action stations. Everyone slept on board for the first time. It was most uncomfortable living in the ship, as here was no water on, no lights would work, and the ship was full of dockyard workmen making the devil's own noise with pneumatic riveters, caulkers, electric drills, and every species of instrument.
On Sunday I escaped from the dirt and noise in the afternoon and went up to see the Rankens, where I had tea and supper.
PASSAGE DOWN THE CLYDE
Monday, 7th May
We left Beardmores, and escorted and dragged by 6 tugs, we started down the Clyde.
Our trouble is that, owing to the fact that when she was launched she hit the river bank on the south side, her stern post is cracked, and her bottom plates buckled. The exact amount of damage is unknown until we are docked at Liverpool, but for the time being we have no rudder which can be used. The tugs supplied were not up to much, but we started off all right, amidst the cheers of thousands of men and women who had built her, and with an aeroplane doing stunts overhead. We had four tugs aft, and two forward. All went well until we had just got past Dumbarton Rock, when abreast of No. 6 Buoy she suddenly sheered to Stbd. and, notwithstanding the frantic efforts of the tugs, she grounded heavily. To make matters worse the tide began to turn to ebb. All the tugs tried hard to get us off, and there were some amazing jumbles of tugs round our stern. One tug had her mast cut off by a wire lying across her, and at the same time another wire got underneath her and, catching in her paddle wheel, threatened to turn her turtle.
The shouting and cursing that went on can be imagined only by those who have assisted at a similar show. Of course, we completely blocked the river, and traffic began to accumulate above and below the stranded monster.
Strange to relate, but probably owing to one side of her being waterborne, we came off into the channel at 3.30 p.m. By a stroke of luck we avoided the mud on the other side, and by 4 p.m. we were once more literally staggering down the river. The tugs were much too small, and had very little control over us. It must be remembered that we are of some 30,000 tons displacement. (Sir William Beardmore told me they launched her weighing 19,700 deadweight); we have large anti-submarine blisters on our sides, and no rudder, and worst of all, the tide was with us. About 2 miles further on, off Gourock, we took the ground again, bang in the middle of the channel. The falling tide had defeated us, due to our first delay.
It was hopeless to try and get on, and we lay there, a fixed fort until 11.30 p.m. Meanwhile, owing to lack of circulating water, the condensers had got greatly overheated, and everything in the Engine room was full of mud. At 11.40 we got her off again, and though we had at least three very narrow squeaks as we yawed from side to side of the narrow channel, we eventually more or less drifted sideways into deep water off Greenock, where we thankfully let go an anchor at 2.30 a.m., and everyone turned in. Our troubles were considerably increased from midnight onwards, as a cold wind sprang up on the stbd. quarter, and she kept on flying up into it, in a most uncontrollable manner.
Tuesday, 8th May
We have had to remain at anchor whilst the Engineers try and get things right below. We have also discovered that in one of the bumps the old rudder has been pushed up into the ship. It is, of course, probable that other damage will be revealed when we dock at Liverpool. I have been made temp. Chief Censor, which rather bores me.
Thursday, 10th May
After lying for one day off Greenock, we started off to Liverpool this morning. We had four tugs to see us clear of the entrance to the Clyde, and four destroyers and four sweepers as escort. As soon as we started we began to surge about in an alarming manner, and notwithstanding the desperate efforts of the tugs, we drifted (there is no other word) more or less broadside on through the gate, hitting but not damaging one gate drifter. Once outside we cast off the tugs and tried to steer with our engines. Each time we went ahead she kept perfectly straight until we had gathered way, when she would swing violently to port or stbd. and head straight for the shore. It was then necessary to go "Full speed astern both" to prevent beaching her. By noon we had proceeded about 3 miles in a series of gigantic swoops. It was obvious that the ship was quite unmanageable, so with our four tugs dragging first one way and then the other, we crept back to our anchorage at 6 knots, managed to catch the gate entrance in the arc of one of our swoops, and anchored at 3 p.m.
Experts from Beardmore are now on board discussing the situation, as it would be almost impossible to get to Liverpool as we are under peace conditions, and with submarines it is unthinkable. We are going to dive and have another look at the rudder to-morrow, and if it is very misshapen, there is some talk of trying to cut it off.
I think the only plan is to have an escort of about 12 T.B.D.'s, and then tow a tramp and make her steer us, or else try and fit relieving tackles to the rudder and work them off the capstan. The question is, how much rudder is down there?
Monday, 14th May
On Saturday we tried again, as the experts discovered that only a small portion of the large rudder remained. We stayed inside the gate this time, and as far as steering the ship was concerned, it was a dismal failure.
The small rudder has no effect on her at all, and we found it quite impossible to steer with the engines. Once she starts swinging one way or the other, she goes on until her stern is up in the wind. The only way to get her straight again is to stop all her way, and turn her on her heel.
We should take a good many days to get her to Liverpool at this rate. We crawled back to our anchorage at 6 p.m. Whilst everyone was racking their brains as to what to do next, a wire came which summoned the Captain to the Admiralty. He left on Sunday evening, and to-day we have been lying quietly here. It has been raining hard, but in a temporary break Pelly and I landed and tried to play golf at Gourock. We got soaked to the skin.
Sunday, 20th May
Lunched with Lord Inverclyde, who had asked some of us over to his place near Kilcreggan.
PASSAGE TO LIVERPOOL
Tuesday, 22nd May
At 11 a.m. we set out on our ticklish journey to Liverpool. We had an imposing escort consisting of eight sweepers, eight Liverpool tugs, eight trawlers and drifters, and six destroyers. Our procedure was to have an outer screen of T.B.D's, the sweepers ahead, and an inner screen of trawlers. Four tugs in two tandems towed forward. Two tugs steered us on either quarter. The expensive whiskers they have fitted to our quarters are quite useless, and will simply have to come off again at Liverpool! Two other tugs are spare numbers.
We successfully managed the gate entrance at 10.30 a.m. and slowly went down river. At 1 p.m. we passed out through the Cumbraes and at 2.30 p.m. about six miles further on, the trawler Muse, one of our inner screen, distant about 3000 yards on our port beam, and senior officer's trawler, struck a mine, and was blown to atoms. There was a large cloud of white and grey smoke, and in a few seconds this cleared away, and nothing was left but some bits of wood. The two officers, her captain, Lt. Fane, R.N.R., and her gunner, were in our smoking room at 10 a.m. this morning. There were no survivors; she had a crew of 12. I saw her go as I was on watch.
The weather was luckily very fine, as we yawed abominably from 3 to 7 points either side of our course. Our speed made good was 4½ knots. We were able to warn a heavily laden passenger ship that was bound from Brodick and was steering straight for the spot where the Muse went down. At 8.30 p.m. we drifted past Ailsa Graig, which looked very beautiful with the sun sinking behind it. I had the middle watch, and a breeze sprang up, which made it very hard to steer her. We do it by signalling to the quarter tugs, and careful manipulation of the engines, as one has to be very much on one's guard against over-running the tandems. The tide set against us in my watch, and at times we only made good 2 knots.
Wednesday, 23rd May
Our run from noon yesterday was 108 miles. The weather continues fine and hazy, which suits us. I think she would be quite, unmanageable in the slightest lop. We are slowly creeping down with the Isle of Man on our stbd. beam. At noon we had 90 miles to go to Liverpool. We went to collision stations twice to-day, in the forenoon.
A submarine was seen yesterday just where we are now. I wish we were not so helpless and one welcomes the night. At present, 1.55 p.m. I am going to get my head down for an hour and repair the ravages of the middle last night !
ARRIVE LIVERPOOL
Thursday, 24th May
Arrived at Liverpool and lay for a day off the Gladstone Dock. It was ludicrous to see Cammell Lairds hard at work cutting off the whiskers which had been put on at such expense at Glasgow, and then never used.
Friday, 25th May
Entered Gladstone dock and bumped on the way in, but not badly.
Saturday, 26th May
Proceeded on leave. The submarine war seems to go in periodic waves, and I much fear we are approaching the crest of one of these. I pray nothing happens to the Kenilworth on her way out this time.
On my arrival on board I found that the boys, some 95 in number, had just arrived on the scene. This is my division, and the organization of their instruction and their general supervision entail a great deal of work. They seem a very smart lot, and have been well shaken up in barracks. The ship is in the Gladstone dock, which is at a place called Seaforth Sands. Communication with the centre of the town is effected by the overhead electric railway, which staggers along a badly laid track just behind the docks on the North side of the river.
Nowhere have I seen anything which impressed me so much with the commercial might of England as these seven miles of docks and warehouses, storing sheds, and serried rows of rolling stock. Some of the warehouses have their doors open, and from the train it fascinated me to see the heaps of golden grain lying on the floors. There are a lot of ships unloading, and every dry dock is full. In one dock there is a steamer with her bows blown off by a mine.
Communication with Seacombe, Birkenhead and the South side of the river is maintained by a continuous service of large ferry boats. I am surprised they have not got an electric railway running under the river. There are some very large buildings in the centre of the town. A huge edifice with an ugly bird, the Liverpool crest, on top of each of two towers is the Cunard Company's new offices. It is like a cross between a sky-scraper and the Wesleyan, or is it Baptist, cathedral in London. On the whole, viewed from the South side, the North shore of the river is an imposing enough spectacle. It suggests wealth, and the terminus of trade routes.
Friday, 20th July
The ship has been delayed through a strike of the Iron workers. They have come back to-day. It is an ill wind that blows no one any good, and the net result of this is that we are getting some more leave.
Friday, 7th September
Left Ramillies and arrived Vernon on 10th, via London and Brighton.
SUMMARY OF LATER NAVAL CAREER OF STEPHEN KING-HALL
A brief summary of Stephen King-Hall's naval career after he left the Ramillies is given below:
1917 Specialised as Torpedo-Lieutenant at HMS Vernon, Portsmouth.
1918 Appointed to the 11th Submarine Flotilla at Harwich.
1919-20 Admiralty. Author of Cruiser Manual.
1921 Naval Staff Course.
1922-23 HMS Durban. Cruiser on China Station. Torpedo Officer.
1924 Army Staff College, Camberley. Student-Instructor.
1925-7 Staff of C-in-C Mediterranean. Chief Staff Officer Intelligence.
1928 HMS Repulse. 1st Lieutenant and Torpedo Officer. Promoted Commander.
1929 Retires from Royal Navy.
Any reader who is interested in a a more detailed description of Stephen King-Hall's naval career is strongly recommended to read My Naval Life by SK-H..