The Glamour of the 1960s Big Carrier Royal Navy

It takes a while coming, but when, finally, the warship is spotted cruising across the Mediterranean – through the cabin window of a Wessex helicopter of the Fleet Air Arm, no less – KGB agent Ilya Kuryakin (Armie Hammer) enquires what on earth it is.

With the crisp and dry sarcasm only the head of British naval intelligence could deliver, Commander Waverly (Hugh Grant) explains: ‘It is an aircraft carrier Kuryakin – for a special agent you are not having a very special day.’

HMS Hermes 1960

British aircraft carrier HMS Hermes on sea trials, a type of ship featured in ‘The Man from U.N.C.L.E.’
She would be the last of the RN’s big deck aircraft carriers of the 1960s. Photo: Strathdee Collection.

It is indeed a flat top, and a British one rather than a Yank variant (as is usually the case in movies). From its appearance, as the Wessex approaches for a landing, the ship in question is Victorious or Hermes.

She has a flight-deck bursting with other helicopters and, most wonderful of all, nifty little Seahawk fighter jets. That for once the Royal Navy gets the glory in a Hollywood movie, is only sensible (and accurate). For a taster (including naval elements) watch this extended trailer:

At the time ‘The Man from U.N.C.L.E.’ is set – around 1964 – the British fleet still ruled the Mediterranean and, in fact, routinely deployed several big deck aircraft carriers all the way from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean.

Of course back in the mid-1960s the Soviet Navy did not have an aircraft carrier at all, so perhaps it is understandable that the sight of such a vessel might flummox a KGB agent.

Having spent a fair bit of time writing about the wielding of UK and US Navy carrier power and the rise of Soviet maritime power (including carriers by the late 1960s) I was thrilled to see proper, authentic hardware depicted in this movie. It really did capture the essence of certain other aspects of the Cold War era (not just the fashion either but also espionage  and the whole East-West rivalry thing) as touched upon in my own Hunter Killers’.

Movie director Guy Ritchie has a real eye for naval detail and, as someone in his late forties, no doubt recalls the fantastic 1970s BBC TV documentary ‘Sailor’ about the big deck carrier HMS Ark Royal. For many of us born in the 1960s that show was incredibly exciting, as was the original ‘Man from U.N.C.L.E.’ television series. Both were very, very cool.

Throughout the 1960s and into the 1970s the big deck carriers of the Royal Navy – and the dizzying succession of strange and fantastic fighter jets that flew from them – were the epitome of a Britain that, despite all its woes, still burned with the white heat of technology. It aspired to be up there with the naval big boys because it could and should.

Anyway, Ritchie’s movie only reflects the reality that there were two main players out there doing business in the fight against the Soviets during the Cold War (especially in the realms of intelligence and naval forces), namely the UK and USA.

In ‘The Man From U.N.C.L.E.’, a stylish, sexy romp that takes us from East Berlin to Italy and out into the Med, the Russians and Americans – and eventually the British – unite against fiendish neo-Nazis seeking a nuclear weapon.

The man form UNCLE

Art work from the new movie, ‘The Man from U.N.C.L.E.’ (Warner Bros).

The climax of  ‘The Man from U.N.C.L. E.’ movie features a Royal Marine (or SBS) raid under cover of darkness with Kuryakin and CIA operative Napoleon Solo (Henry Cavill, a Brit using an American accent) along for the ride. The Royal Navy later delivers the coup de grace of the whole drama.

Both Hammer and Cavill live up to the roles originated by Robert Vaughn (Solo) and David McCallum (Kuryakin) while in today’s ‘U.N.C.L.E.’ Alicia Vikander (Gaby) is a welcome addition to the team. Grant’s Waverly is among his better performances of late.

I had afternoon tea with the original Kuryakin once and he was a very charming chap. I must confess I was especially eager to talk about his other famous role, in ‘The Great Escape’ movie, in which he played a Fleet Air Arm aviator on the run from the Nazis, but thereby hangs another tale.

The only jarring note of the new movie is a so-called Nazi submarine that is clearly an Oberon Class (British design) boat. Bearing in mind that it is CGI creation it is a puzzle they could not create a U-boat, as there were plenty of former Nazi submarines still in commission during the 1960s. That’s a trivial moan more than made up for by the unusually prominent and accurate portrayal of the 1960s Royal Navy, which looks dynamic and decisive.

Commander Ian Fleming, who, in addition to creating naval superspy James Bond had a part in originating ‘The Man from U.N.C.L.E.’ for TV, would be most gratified.

This is a variant of an article is to be published in the October 2015 edition of WARSHIPS International Fleet Review magazine, available from September 18.

‘The Man from U.N.C.L.E.’ (Warner Bros, Cert 12A) can still be seen at the cinemas and will be released on DVD and Blu Ray in the near future. 

Iain Ballantyne’s next book, ‘The Deadly Trade: A History of Submarine Warfare’ is currently being worked on most diligently, and is due for publishing by Orion Books in 2017. 

 

 

The Peculiar Cruelty and Mercy of War

A visit to the Imperial War Museum North in Manchester provoked thoughts on the peculiar cruelty and mercy of war, particularly in relation to a warship blown apart at the Battle of Jutland just over a century ago.

When soldiers fall in battle there is often, though not always, some spot in a foreign field that will forever be a place of pilgrimage for their descendants to go and commemorate their loss.

At sea, those killed in action are often lost with no sign of their passing. The wreckage of their vessels soon disappears below the waves. Smoke and blood lingers for mere moments before dissolving on the surface of the sea or being diluted to nothing. The fact that there will never be any fixed grave for the loved ones of those killed in sea combat makes the loss all the harder and more devastating.

Such was the case for the battle-cruiser HMS Indefatigable, last in the fighting line among David Beatty’s hard-charging battle-cruisers at the Battle of Jutland on May 31, 1916. Hammered by German shells, Indefatigable rolled over and blew up. Not long afterwards the battle-cruiser HMS Queen Mary was also sunk with huge loss of life.

HMS-INDEFATIGABLE-b

The Devonport-built and manned battle-cruiser HMS Indefatigable, which was blown apart at the Battle of Jutland, 31 May 1916. Photo: Strathdee Collection.

An officer in the super dreadnought battleship HMS Warspite – steaming fast with the rest of her heavyweight squadron to provide the battle-cruisers with support – later remarked: ‘I suddenly saw our battle cruisers coming close by about four cables in the opposite direction and I realised they had turned back. I saw Queen Mary and Indefatigable were adrift but never for a moment realised they had gone.’

Like Indefatigable, the Warspite was both a Devonport-built and manned ship. While the latter survived the battle to fight another day, the destruction of Indefatigable and the obsolete cruiser Defence (also manned by men of the Devonport division) delivered a devastating blow to hundreds of families in the city of Plymouth (which to this day plays host to Devonport dockyard and naval base).

In the aftermath of Jutland worried relatives gathered at the dockyard, outside the office of Commander-in-Chief Plymouth and at the Western Morning News Building in the city centre. Reports based on an official Admiralty communique were placed in the windows of the newspaper offices: 1,017 men had been killed in Indefatigable with a further 900 lost in Defence.

On seeing the names of destroyed ships confirmed in black and white, wives and mothers broke down and had to be escorted away by friends and relatives. A few sad souls remained late into the night, lingering outside the newspaper offices hoping for further news that might hold out some hope a loved one had survived after all.

The names of Devonport-based sailors killed in the two world wars of the 20th Century are recorded at the Naval Memorial that dominates Plymouth Hoe. In its shadow are information plaques on selected ships lost and how they met their fates, not least Indefatigable and Defence. The Imperial War Museum North, in Trafford, Manchester also has a moving reminder of the loss of Indefatigable. There is even a remnant of the ship herself.

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A grizzled Royal Navy sailor as carved in stone on the Naval Memorial, Plymouth Hoe.
Photo: Iain Ballantyne.

A tour of the capacious, softly lit interior of the Main Exhibition Space in IWM North brings you face-to-face with the disaster as revealed in a simple, but powerful wall display. In addition to horrifying photographs of the ship exploding, it presents a lifebelt emblazoned with the ship’s name. Notes reveal that it was retrieved from the sea by a British warship searching desperately for survivors. A Jutland veteran donated the lifebelt to the IWM in the 1930s.

What really rams home message of war’s cruelty is the notion that the lifebelt not only weathered a cataclysm that ripped apart steel and the mere flesh of her men, but also that it failed to serve its function. It is more than likely nobody was able to use the lifebelt while they awaited rescue.

One of the only two survivors from Indefatigable does, however, get to tell us his tale, via a quote extract that is included in the display. Interviewed by the IWM in 1964, as part of efforts to ensure veterans’ accounts are preserved for all time, Signaller C. Farmer recounted how he clung for dear life to a piece of wood.

As night clashes between the Grand Fleet and the German High Sea Fleet raged around him, he prayed for salvation. By 3.00 a.m. on the morning of June 1, Farmer was giving up hope of being saved. In a transcript of the IWM sound archive recording he recounts: ‘all of a sudden I could hear something coming towards me and I had to gaze up. It was a German destroyer. Two sailors got down, picked me up and dragged me aboard…’

GrandFleet1915

The very symbol of British maritime power a century ago: The battleships of the Grand Fleet steaming in line abreast formation in the North Sea, 1915. Photo: U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command.

While Farmer was in the hands of the enemy, he was at least luckier than the 6,097 sailors and marines of the Royal Navy killed at Jutland. Despite that loss it was ultimately considered a strategic victory for the British, as the Kaiser’s fleet rarely poked its nose out of its bases from then on and mutinied before surrendering in 1918.

Showing the human face of war and terrible loss is the core rationale of the IWM North, which also numbers among its exhibits a heartbreaking exchange of letters between the parents of a child evacuated to Canada and the Children’s Overseas Reception Board, the organisation running the process.

The letters crossed in the post. Even as her parents’ asked if she had reached Canada safely, nine-year-old Beryl Myatt had already lost her life. The evacuation ship SS City of Benares was torpedoed on September 18, 1940 by U-48, with 83 children killed among the 260 who lost their lives. A subsequent request for a wreath to be dropped on the spot where Beryl died was requested by her mum and dad, but was refused by the Admiralty due to the risk from U-boats.

In addition to such letters, the same display at IWM North tells us that Marion Evans, also being sent to Canada, survived the sinking of SS Volendam. Remarkably, though hit by two torpedoes, the Dutch evacuation liner did not sink. The vessel was taken in tow after suffering only a single death. The bitter twist in the tale is that Volendam’s near sinking was in August 1940 and some of the children who survived that attack were later put aboard the City of Benares and lost their lives to U-48’s attack.

While the large central void of IWM North is used very effectively for performances that bring to life aspects of war at home and on the front line, it is also filled with larger artifacts. These illustrate the technology of warfare and also convey the results of conflict, not least a US Marine Corps Harrier and jagged fragments of the Twin Towers destroyed by Al-Qaeda attack.

In one of the displays along the walls of the Main Exhibition Space there is even J.R.R. Tolkein’s revolver. The ‘Lord of the Rings’ and ‘The Hobbit’ author saw action on the Somme during the summer of 1916, but, after contracting trench fever, was rendered unfit for further service. Anyone who has read his novels or seen the movies based on them can be in no doubt that, as he lay in hospital during WW1 – and for many years thereafter – Tolkein brooded on the many faceted nature of war and men, its mass cruelty and moments of kindness.

Among these could be included the Germans who blew apart the British battle-cruiser Indefatigable one moment and held out the hand of mercy to save one of her sailors the next. Then there was the lottery of being evacuated to Canada for safety’s sake and straying into the path of a prowling U-boat. Such are the thoughts stirred up by a visit to the IWM North.

IB-SHOT-OF-IWM-NORTH

The striking exterior of the Imperial War Museum North, Manchester. Photo: Iain Ballantyne.
This is an edited version of an article that appeared in the August edition of WARSHIPS IFR magazine and also the Western Morning News 
Iain Ballantyne recounts the loss of the battle-cruisers and other moments during the Battle of Jutland in his book ‘Warspite’ (Pen & Sword, £14.99, paperback).
The fate of the City of Benares and the toll of Allied shipping taken by U-48 will be touched upon in the forthcoming book ‘The Deadly Trade: A History of Submarine Warfare’, which Iain is currently labouring over.
IWM North is located at The Quays, Trafford Wharf Road, Manchester, M17 1TZ. Admission is free and it is open daily from 10.00am to 5.00pm, except for December 24 – 26. Further details here.

Is the way forward for the UK’s hard-pressed Submarine Service a case of going back to the future and buying in German technology?

In 1910, the intrepid Captain Roger Keyes, who had as a young naval officer participated in operations against slave traders off east Africa and helped quell the notorious Boxer Rebellion in China, found himself in command of the Submarine Service of the Royal Navy.

A surface fleet outsider with no specific technical skills or even sea-going experience related to submarines, Keyes nonetheless delegated well. He also quickly assessed that development of Britain’s submarines was being hampered by the monopoly that Vickers held over construction of the vessels and provision of their equipment, including periscopes and engines.

Keyes went overseas for better periscopes and diesel engines and even bought in French and Italian submarine designs. The off-the-shelf engines and designs were not necessarily a success. The procurement of French and German retractable periscopes – soon copied and improved on by British firms – represented a huge step forward. Rather than a fixed scope on the outside of the hull – elevated via a knuckle pivot, with the submarine porpoising to poke it above the waves or withdraw it – the new style periscope could be extended and retracted mechanically from inside the submarine (which could keep a steady depth). Keyes’ efforts were not the first, nor would they be the last instances of the British fleet copying and improving on German technology.

1903-A-Class-HMS-A3

An early A Class submarine of the Royal Navy, which did not have a German or French origin retractable periscope at the time (1903). Photo: Used by kind permission of BAE Systems.

The three prime protagonists in the undersea contest at the core of the Cold War – the USA, Russia and Britain – all based their 1950s and 1960s diesel-electric patrol submarines on advanced technology U-boats produced for the Nazi regime during WW2.

The Royal Navy also had to move into nuclear-powered submarines to stand a chance of competing, even in a minor way, with the immense efforts of the Soviet Union. Ironically, the massive nuclear submarine fleet Moscow built played a key role in bankrupting the USSR and handing victory to the West.

Today nuclear-powered submarines are more expensive and complex than ever – a bigger challenge than the Space Shuttle to manufacture – with the Royal Navy’s new Astute Class attack submarines costing between £1.6 billion and £747million each (they get cheaper the more you build). The latest comparable Russian vessels cost well in excess of that.

As a consequence, any nation without deep pockets (or a willingness to bypass state provision of Social Welfare and universal healthcare) finds it really hard to afford more than a few nuclear-powered submarines, if any.

In an age of economic austerity, with the UK’s Conservative government beginning its new term of office with an instant £500 million sliced off the defence budget, can the UK afford to stay in the business of nuclear-powered submarines? Does building just seven Astutes offer value for money in terms of global presence and operational capability?

There have been claims the Astutes are too slow to keep up with the new aircraft carriers they are meant to protect and have suffered from other technical problems, though the Navy insists the teething problems are being ironed out.

AstuteStateside

The Royal Navy nuclear-powered submarine HMS Astute arrives at Naval Station Norfolk in the USA for combat exercises against an American attack boat. Photo: Todd A. Schaffer/US Navy.

At the moment – with the older generation Trafalgar Class submarines based at Devonport being decommissioned and the Astutes slow to come on line – the UK is lucky if it can get two attack submarines on deployment.

Yet there are a wide variety of jobs for British submarines to do around the world, including intelligence gathering, protecting the UK’s Trident submarines and hunting other vessels. Last year, at the Undersea Defence Technology (UDT 2014) conference in Liverpool, the current head of the Submarine Service, Rear Admiral Matt Parr, suggested modern navies are perhaps pushing their people too far and destroying their quality of life. It is no secret that fewer British boats are spending more (and longer) periods away from home and it is placing a huge strain on the home lives of the submariners.

Rear Admiral Parr, who in the 1990s commanded a Devonport-based submarine and is a former deputy boss of Plymouth-based Flag Officer Sea Training (FOST), last week told the UDT 2015 conference in Rotterdam there is increased demand for Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) and Special Forces operations. Rear Admiral Parr revealed the Prime Minister himself decides the nature of modern British submarine operations.

Even so, there is a feeling that the current government is afflicted with incoherence in foreign and defence policy and it doesn’t really know what the Navy is for (or it wouldn’t cut defence spending, drive down warship numbers and make highly skilled sailors redundant).

With the strain on submariners and the mission portfolio for the smaller numbers of vessels as broad as ever, is it time for a revolutionary idea to be considered? Is it time to buy German again?

Having gone all-nuclear in the early 1990s, by abandoning diesel-electric ‘conventional’ submarines, might Britain be better off ditching the nukes and going back to the cheaper, greener and much-easier-to-build diesels?

Should it buy lots of U-boats? The Germans make excellent submarines that offer capabilities undreamed off during the Cold War. Their Type 212A U-boats are cutting edge and proven – quieter than a nuclear-powered submarine, small enough to more easily carry out Special Forces operations in shallow waters and with powerful submarine-detecting sonar. Their weapons load is impressive, though it does not currently include cruise missiles or Anti-Shipping Missiles (ASM). 

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The new Type 212 U-boat U35 undergoing tests and trials. Photo: Björn Wilke/German Navy.

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The Type 212 German submarine U32 surfacing. Photo: Björn Wilke/German Navy.

The Type 212A’s Air Independent Propulsion (AIP) means it can stay submerged (and hidden) for up to three weeks. It is capable of crossing the Atlantic without once surfacing, or even using its snorkel system, to take in fresh air and expel fumes. The Achilles Heel of previous generation conventional submarines was potential exposure to an enemy when expelling fumes or sucking in fresh air.

Each Type 212A costs 370 Euros (£260 million, around a third of the cost of a single Astute). If even bankrupt Greece can build a variant of the most modern U-boat (the Type 214 export version), could the Type 212A not be built at Devonport, the UK’s primary submarine refit yard? Babcock does still construct small surface warships, although at Appledore rather than in Plymouth, so why not conventional submarines? Submariners with long and deep experience of submarine operations will tell you that if the UK wants to remain a serious global player it does need the sheer power, huge endurance and reach of nuclear-powered attack submarines.

They are many times more capable and better armed than any diesel, the battleships of today. Why not save the Astutes for the long-range missions and use the U-boats closer to home and for specialist missions such as landing Special Forces?

That way submariners could be rotated through a less gruelling work routine and Britain would have the force levels necessary to counter the rising Russian threat and handle a lot more besides. This would include the job of training warships receiving ASW training with FOST, a task currently undertaken by the diesels of the German and Dutch navies. The new British U-boats could even be based at Devonport. It will have empty submarine berths once the last Trafalgar Class submarine has been decommissioned in 2022.

 

For more news and analysis of modern naval issues see WARSHIPS International Fleet Review . In addition to being the founding and current editor of WARSHIPS IFR, Iain Ballantyne is the author of the true-life thriller ‘Hunter Killers’ (Orion), which tells the dramatic story of British submarines and submariners in the Cold War, including how the two sides in that long confrontation developed submarines from WW2 German technology.
An edited version of this article was published a commentary in the Western Morning News on June 15.

 

 

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