Royal navy

From News of the Week, The Spectator, 12 December 1914: The week has been a week of good news. Last in order but first in importance comes the naval victory off the Falkland Islands. No summary of this news can better the Admiralty’s own report, which is splendid in its terseness and reticence:— “At 7.30 a.m. on December 8th, the Scharnhorst,‘Gneisenau,’ ‘Nürnberg,’ ‘Leipzig,‘ and ‘Dresden’ were sighted near the Falkland Islands by a British Squadron under Vice-Admiral Sir Frederick Sturdee. An action followed, in the course of which the ‘Scharnhorst,’ flying the flag of Admiral Graf von Spee, the ‘Gneisenau,’ and the ‘Leipzig’ were sunk. The ‘Dresden’ and the `Nurnberg’

From The Spectator, 14 November 1914: We have mentioned elsewhere Mr. Winston Churchill’s speech on the Navy at the Guildhall, in which he pointed out that in effect patience and vigilance must be the watch-words of our sailors now as heretofore. There seemed at one time a certain restlessness in the public mind in regard to the Navy, which if it had been reflected in our Fleets might have been of the utmost danger. Happily, however, public opinion seems now to have steadied, and there is no fear of any attempt on the part of the man in the street to try to force our Navy into premature action. Nothing

From The Spectator, 31 October 1914: We regret to record that a gallant and patriotic sailor, Prince Louis of Battenberg, has fallen a victim to the foolish prejudice that people with foreign names and of foreign birth cannot be loyal British subjects. It was announced on Friday that Prince Louis of Battenberg had resigned the office of First Sea Lord in a letter to Mr. Winston Churchill, the candour and simplicity of which do him the greatest credit. The First Lord’s reply will interest the public from its mention of the very large number of capital ships and naval craft of all descriptions which are now falling into the lap

The most curious thing of all is that the sailor should become so much a part of his peculiar element that his detachment from the land is even more marked than the landsman’s imperfect acquaintance with the sea. The sailor comes on shore like a man penetrating doubtfully into an unknown hinterland; he has the air of a foreign being in the streets of his native land; he looks about him as though adventures might fall out of the sky. The author of The Ingoldsby Legends has described the impression made by the sailor on others : “It’s very odd that sailor-men should talk so very queer— And then he hitched

From The Spectator, 24 October 1914: The Germans, as we write, have got as far as Nieuport, which is, roughly, south-west of Ostend. There they have come into the “sphere of influence” of eleven British vessels, including three river monitors bought by the Admiralty at the beginning of the war from Brazil, for whom they were being completed. These vessels, which are armoured, are powerfully armed with 6-in. and 4.7-in. guns, but, best of all, only draw some six feet of water, and therefore can be taken quite near inshore. Their guns are howitzers, or, at any rate, some of them, and therefore, though they lie under the dunes, they

It’s great news that this summer will see the launch of Britain’s biggest-ever warship, the HMS Queen Elizabeth, built on the Clyde and weighing 65,000 tons. This beast will be carrying Merlins, Chinooks, Apache and 250 troops, and also features a ‘Highly Mechanised Weapon Handling System’, which I don’t quite understand the meaning of but definitely makes me aroused. But couldn’t the Powers That Be have come up with a more original name? I love the royal family and everything, but how many things do we have to name after them? Most recently, a year or so ago it was announced that they’d come up with a name for our

Of all the Allied fighting service branches in which you wouldn’t have wanted to spend the second world war, probably the grimmest was submarines. Of all the Allied fighting service branches in which you wouldn’t have wanted to spend the second world war, probably the grimmest was submarines. Sure, their losses weren’t quite as bad as the German U-boat fleet, where your chances of being killed were four in five. But in the course of the war about one third of British submariners lost their lives; and in the earlier years your chances of coming back from a mission alive were no more than 50/50. Bomber crews, of course, had