Similar to many other coastal bombardments which occurred throughout the First World War such as the Bombardment of Ancona and the Raid on Scarborough, Hartlepool and Whitby; historians involved with chronicling the Bombardment of British Columbia find themselves rather spoiled for first hand information. Prominent Canadian Naval Historian Roger Sarty explains this phenomenon rather eloquently,
“This period in Canadian history is undeniably a rather sobering moment from the perspective of a Canadian citizen but similarly from that of an academic, it is also completely enthralling. A hostile warship entered a major port city on a sleepy Sunday morning and proceeded to utterly annihilate both the shipping and local infrastructure alike in full view of all bystanders. Such a sudden and traumatic experience created a variable treasure trove of material from the people directly involved. Over the years there has been countless interviews and firsthand accounts from parties on both sides of the engagement and as could reasonably be guessed, the media at the time had an absolute field day. The amount of absolutely stunning photographs and harrowing tales that emerged that day are well known to Canadians as they have populated the pages of newspapers, popular media and textbooks throughout the decades. A nation or more accurately, a government that was so keen on neglecting its own defense was suddenly presented with what is likely the most direct repercussion for its folly that one could imagine.”
For the rank amateurs that they were, the crew of the Siwash Battery had put up a remarkable opposition considering that the outcome was always pitched against them.
Leipzig’s starboard 10.5cm gun amidships was completely destroyed by an impact to its protective shield and produced an accompanying shower of shrapnel into the nearby funnels. Both the gun and its crew was rendered inoperable while the splinter damage to the funnels placed further stress on the cruisers already overworked boilers. Nearby deck debris and coal dust from the previous refueling operation had stoked the embers of a fire amidships which the thinly stretched skeleton crew of
Leipzig was also forced to contend with. The second shell had penetrated high on the aft funnel and left a clean hole directly through both sides. As the third shell had struck the upper section of the 10cm thick conning tower, it’s potential for damage to the ship was largely nullified. Its accompanying detonation was certainly a very jarring experience for all involved however, the bridge staff inside and gun crews adjacent were largely protected by the various armor they huddled behind. Had Captain Haun and Manfred Baumann not entered the confines of the conning tower shortly before the hit to its protective structure, German efforts on the coast could have been decapitated then and there. Both men returned to the shrapnel ridden bridge to complete the transit of the First Narrows as such crowded waters would require the intricate local knowledge that Mr Baumann could provide and therefore, he directly instructed the helmsman on their approach. While this information would not be known until after the fact, Haun held within a uniform jacket pocket what had largely made this operation possible. The German Consul General in San Francisco had been hard at work in the time leading up to the outbreak of war and within the small pocketbook that was gifted to Haun was written a list of priority targets located within the coastal waters of British Columbia. As one of the major British ports within the Pacific, Vancouver and the surrounding area possessed a myriad of vulnerable infrastructure that would be ripe for the picking in such circumstances.
Woven within all of the tragedy of that day however can found one of the many seemingly unbelievable occurrences throughout history. In order to properly direct nautical traffic in and out of Vancouver safely, the Canadian authorities erected the Brockton Point Lighthouse in 1890 on the most eastern point of Stanley Park. The lighthouse originally consisted of a simple bell tower with alternating white and red lanterns tended by one man, the amusingly named William David Jones. Even before the war, Jones himself was viewed as somewhat of a character with locals describing him as a ‘testy Welshman’ and referring to him by the nickname ‘Captain Davy Jones’. Due to an oversight by the city, the original bell tower had no attached housing for the keeper to live so as one does, the 47-year-old keeper built himself a cottage out of driftwood found on the nearby beach and went about his business. Jones resided happily in this shack until 1902 when the embarrassed local government was forced to build the keeper a proper home due to the rapidly upcoming visit of Duke of Cornwall and York to Stanley Park. As the salary of a keeper was rather meagre in the grand scheme of things, Jones was allowed to partake in other business in the time not used tending to his duties. With a great deal of effort, he eventually transformed the surrounding government property into his own personal farm stead. While it is unknown if such things were strictly permitted, nobody seemed to stop Jones so he continued. Depending on the period and what he could exactly get his hands on, Jones has been documented raising cattle, horses, ducks, chickens, goats, and rabbits while also tending to his various crops of berries, apples, pears, plums, cherries and many more decorative species. Throughout his tenure as lighthouse keeper, Jones also seemed to have developed a fairly skilled hand at winemaking as well. One would think such an eccentric would be busy with their obviously more profitable exploits and shirk their duties, but Jones has been recorded in personally rescuing over 16 different men and women from First Narrows by 1907 alone. By 1914 the light had been replaced by a new automatic system housed in a concrete tower with the now 71-year-old keeper operating both a semaphore station and the daily 9-pm signal cannon in the area.
'Captain' Davy Jones standing beside one of the many ornamental trees that he had cultivated over his long tenure, taken sometime in the 1930's.
The declaration of war against Germany in early August 1914 saw the establishment of militia guards at many key infrastructure points in the Vancouver area as while the threat of sabotage was an old and tired concept to Jones by this point, the government itself at least had foresight to provide some protection. They had done this before to a lesser extent as Jones had been issued a single Lee–Metford rifle decades ago for use against Imperial Russian landing parties but as one would expect, such a weapon had largely gone unused besides firing at the occasional predator in the area. Sometime before the arrival of the Germans in Vancouver, a trio of militia guards were stationed at Brockton Point, ending up being present when
Leipzig made her dash down First Narrows. One would think that without wireless contact to their compatriots elsewhere and with only their Ross rifles as weapons, the sound of rapid thundering of oncoming naval guns would have caused the young men to simply observe the heavily armed cruiser as it passed however, youthful ignorance and patriotism is a dangerous combination. The same men that ran to the recruitment offices upon the declaration of war to fight the Hun did not even have to leave their home province to be provided with such a chance and as that black Imperial Eagle came flapping by, the Militia opened fire. Captain Haun attests in his biography that once they were roughly 700 meters away from the lighthouse, they came under sporadic rifle fire from the surrounding area. Fearing yet another imminent attack by hidden coastal batteries, Haun immediately ordered 10.5cm and 3.7cm suppressing fire to be liberally applied to the seemingly reinforced concrete pad surrounding the light. While the lighthouse itself remained largely standing but riddled with small caliber bullets and cannon shot, the valiantly futile stand of the Militiamen would prove to be their last.
‘Captain’ Davy Jones himself had been finishing up his breakfast when he first heard the rifle fire, shortly followed by the rhythmic thumping of automatic weapons and a great thundering crash that shook the entire house. A pair of high explosive shells had gone high over their intended target and pummeled the front dormer of his house into splinters while one of the large decorative trees that he had spent the past 24 years nurturing had been thoroughly delimbed. More shells fell around the property and kicked up a fair bit of chaos but always the character, Jones did not take particularly kindly to the Germans bombarding his home, his livelihood and his life’s work. The old keeper picked up as much ammunition as he could carry alongside his old rifle and followed the Germans down the shoreline in a furious fusillade of gunfire and colorful language that would last until his ammunition was depleted. While return fire this time was rather light as the cruiser rapidly pulled away into the harbor itself, Jones was forced to reposition multiple times due to machine gun and cannon fire. Eventually Jones retreated to assist the soldiers but only a single one of the men was alive upon his return and would pass soon after. While none of the men at the lighthouse managed to wound or kill any Germans that day, their actions would live on through one of the many propaganda campaigns of the war itself. The iconic poster depicting Jones standing amidst the fallen bodies of the Militiamen while taking the ‘retreating’ warship under fire with the caption of “THEY DID THEIR PART, WHAT ABOUT YOU?” was a common sight all up and down the west coast in the coming years. Davy Jones has transformed into a quasi-folk hero over the decades for his actions that day, being lauded in media throughout countless interviews and newspaper articles. The most famous work of all would be the classic mid 1990’s Heritage Minute which showcased the events as yet another example of Canadian determination in the face of impossible odds. Close acquaintances of Jones have gone on record stating that Jones himself felt a large amount of guilt for not being able to help the three men lost that day and wasting valuable time in petty revenge against the Germans but as one could expect, such information contrary to the historical narrative has largely failed to gain traction.
Upon their entrance into Vancouver Harbor proper doing a spritely 17 knots, the signalmen of
Leipzig likely stood somewhat leerier on the exposed bridge wings after their engagement with Brockton Point Light, even as the occasional ping of an errand bullet against the superstructure died down somewhat. Haun had wished to limit civilian casualties to a minimum in the following engagement however with the previous event in his mind and a potential submarine attack looming, they would be unable to stop and scuttle each merchant they came across. This would be doubly so for any ships moored alongside the local piers as Vancouver would almost certainly mobilize its militia to engage any boarding party
Leipzig could dispatch. As such, the wireless operators would be repeatedly broadcasting a warning message to all stations while the signalmen would provide direct abandon ship orders to the appropriate vessels in the area. Such formalities were not technically required in warfare but in attacking a populated port in daylight, such comparatively little effort could save countless lives. In the end while such attempts were indeed admirable, Canadian and British propaganda mills would have an almost endless supply of material regardless of the Germans actions. With the view of Vancouver opening up, it became clear rather quickly to the Germans that they had stumbled into a port absolutely brimming with bottled up merchant traffic. The lack of any luck out in the sea lanes had quickly changed but before any action could be taken against the trove of merchants tied at their moorings, a vessel was spotted sailing towards them through the Second Narrows.
Initially thought to be an approaching torpedo boat due to its low-slung silhouette and single funnel, the vessel was quickly identified to be flying the flag of a British merchant. As the range closed and the vessel continued its course towards the harbor entrance,
Leipzig signaled for the vessel to stop immediately and evacuate its crew. A prompt warning shot across her bow reinforced this point to the crew of the ship now identified as the 5,500t freighter
SS Wapello. Even as the vessel heaved to almost in the center of the harbor, the German crews watched with bemusement in how almost comically swiftly the evacuation order was undertaken, so much for that dogged British determination they were so used to. As the few boats loaded with crew frantically paddled with all their might towards the shores,
Leipzig bore down on her first target of the day and unleashed a broadside from her full portside battery at 0650. With a second and soon third broadside following at less than 1,000 yards and shredding the merchant’s waterline, the Germans came to the uncomfortable realization why her crew had been so quick to abandon ship. A large black smear had made its way out from the vessels damaged hull and drifted out across the harbor in winding swirls. As fate would transpire,
Wapello was no normal cargo vessel, but a tanker of the Anglo-American Oil Company chartered to carry 2,700t of bunker oil to Prince Rupert and Juneau, Alaska. That cargo was now express delivered into the waters of Vancouver Harbor courtesy of the German Navy. The tanker settled evenly downwards for another 20 minutes before slipping below the waves, continuing to bellow oil from her hull for the foreseeable future. While luckily none of the major fires in the area ignited the oil slick, the residents of the Vancouver area nevertheless came to refer to August 16 as
‘Black Sunday’ due to both the thick black smoke in the air and the dark vicious sludge that coated the shorelines for countless months after.
SS Princess Victoria passing by the Brockton Point Lighthouse, one can clearly see the reinforced seawall and the keepers house surrounding and adjacent to the light itself.
With such a valuable kill under her belt,
Leipzig executed a wide turn to port in which she could double back around on her previous course and pay some attention to the North side of the harbor. The main target in North Vancouver was the concentrated sprawl of machine shops, slipways, gantries, and warehouses that made up the Wallace Shipyard. While this yard had largely specialized in local wooden vessels commonly used as barges, tugs and fishing boats, the facility had expanded to the point where its prime waterfront location was also a capable repair and even building yard for modern steel hulled vessels. Contrasted heavily against the rather grimy and rustic shipyard was the splendid three funneled visage of
SS Princess Victoria, the pride of the Canadian Pacific Railroads coastal fleet. Built in 1902 and coming into service shortly after, this 300ft long vessel was capable of comfortable speeds of just below 20 knots while offering all the amenities found in the finest ocean-going liners, all available between her usual triangle route of Vancouver, Victoria and Seattle. Having encountered a malfunction within her triple expansion engines days before, the vessels luck in choosing Vancouver for her repairs would be a damning event in her career. With a shrill sounding of the cruisers siren and a somewhat poorly aimed warning shot which plowed through some of the nearby piers supporting spiles, the vessels fate was sealed. If anybody within the yard had been previously unaware of the ongoing situation, they were promptly informed when a high explosive shell splintered
Princess Victoria’s bridge and send her foremast toppling down over the nearby pier. The following minutes are best described as a rapid scrapping as
Leipzig’s gun crews systematically demolished the once proud liner as they passed, her wooden superstructure and decadently furnished interiors quickly feeding a blazing inferno which eventually engulfed the ship from stem to stern. Such an aggressive fire threatened to spread to the pier and creep its way into the yard until the damage to the liners side finally overcame her buoyancy, sending the vessel rolling away from her moorings towards the harbor bottom in a tremendous cloud of steam.
Through three separate passes on the yard including the one focused against the helpless liner, the destruction caused was almost total. A pair of wooden hulled vessels still on the stocks awaiting their upper works were quickly pounded into kindling by a salvo of high explosive shells, steel sided warehouses buckled from internal and external detonations and most distressingly of all, a large fire had sprung up from one of the machine shops. Sporadic explosions rang out from the yard as the flames continued to make their way across the area, causing overhanging structures and gantries to tumble down in every direction.
Leipzig once again put her rudder to good work and made her way towards the packed coastline of central Vancouver, her starboard side facing the familiar trees of Stanley Park momentarily as she came perpendicular with the crowded shores of Vancouver proper. The Canadian Pacific Railway’s
‘Pier A’ presented the natural first target to the incoming Germans in the form of a high sided monolith of black steel and white upper works that sat moored to the western side of the dock, the 500ft long and 12,500t ocean liner
SS Ionic of the now infamous White Star Line.
Leipzig wasted little time in pouring salvo after salvo into the waterline of the great liner but it soon became apparent that such tactics as was used previously against smaller vessels would be much less effective against their larger counterparts. The sheer mass and increased subdivision of these larger ocean-going vessels meant that while shell fire would eventually sink or destroy them, more severe damage would be required to promptly and hopefully permanently put these valuable troop or cargo vessels out of service.
Photographs showing the partial aftermath of the Wallace Shipyard fire of 1914.
Three more large single funneled vessels were moored in a line at a long section of waterfront known as the Canadian Pacific Railway wharf, their high black freeboards melting together to resemble a monolithic 1300ft long vessel from the initial angle of approach. Behind these vessels sat a busy railyard but with the more important targets blocking direct fire at this point, the yard itself would have to wait. The next unfortunate victim of the Germans attack was
SS Protesilaus of the Blue Funnel Line, a roughly 10,000t freight and passenger vessel that featured a pair of distinctive connected derrick posts forward of the superstructure to aid in the moving of cargo. Amidst the shower of incoming gunfire, an immense geyser of water leaped skywards as a 17.7” torpedo launched from
Leipzig’s starboard submerged tube tore through the outer hull and introduced a flood of seawater into one of her expansive cargo holds. In normal circumstances it would have been frowned upon to waste one of the only five torpedoes aboard to sink a mere merchant vessel but as one could surmise, the circumstances at hand were nothing ordinary. Little attention could be paid to the vessels worsening list outwards as the gun crews scrambled to resupply their ready ammunition for the next ship in line. Ahead of her was a much more traditional passenger liner belonging to the Union Steamship Company of New Zealand, the 8,000t
SS Willochra. The Kiwi’s hull plates and flammable upper decks gave little resistance to the oncoming shell fire as she lurched against her moorings but due to the cramped interior of the torpedo compartment aboard
Leipzig, the reloading process would take a considerable amount of time. This would leave the most attractive option for a rapid attack as simply utilizing the other vessels opposite broadside. The third and final ship in this steel conga line was the Canadian Pacific Line’s own
SS Montreal, very similar in overall size to her Blue Funnel Line compatriot to the rear except with a much more traditional crane setup and large number of boom arms. By this time, the Militia units stationed around Vancouver had begun to mobilize in their prearranged duties but as was noted by Captain Haun, it seemed initially that it was more a panicked scurry than any kind of organized action. Coal loading infrastructure was forcefully disabled via scuttling or fire while the soldiers rushed to both evacuate nearby civilians and bring any of their field artillery in the area into action against the Germans. Various units of militiamen took cover inside buildings and other structures as cover, letting loose barrages of annoying but ineffective small arms fire against the cruiser who had been too preoccupied to return the favor.
It was unlikely riflemen alone would have provoked another barrage of 10.5cm counterfire regardless due to the fact no Captain wants to be responsible for needlessly throwing high explosive shells into the midst of a large and very bustling city. The downtown area of Vancouver itself presented seemingly zero targets in comparison to the fruitful CPR docks and yards further up the harbor, there was little use wastefully expending shells to try and render large piers, lumber yards and sugar mills out of action. These largely civilian infrastructures had minimal influence on direct wartime resources and by the look of the American flagged vessels moored alongside such establishments, taking them under fire would be a politically risky move regardless. With no more targets seemingly ahead,
Leipzig plotted her course to swing back around and unleash her opposite broadside on the harbor but as she did, a lookout noticed one familiar vessel nestled amidst the downtown piers. As luck would have it, the cruiser had stumbled upon
SMS Seelowe’s sister ship, the
SS Prince Rupert herself at Grand Trunk Pacific terminal.
Prince Rupert was not sheltering in Vancouver like her larger ocean-going counterparts but was preparing for a previously planned Alaskan excursion for Canadian and American passengers which was delayed after the Canadian Government takeover of
SS Prince George. Due to the high speed of the cruiser and the poor firing solution against the coastal liner,
Leipzig only managed a handful of hits on her initial attack, but this soon changed as she circled and brought her portside armament into action. As was the case with
Princess Victoria, explosions aboard from shell fire had managed to set the large amount of wooden upper works aflame while her waterline swiftly flooding through the engine rooms and stern compartments. Unlike her rival across the harbor,
Prince Rupert did not capsize and simply sank alongside with a 25-degree list away from the terminal wharf itself. The fires aboard ravaged the internals of the vessel and eventually reached her fuel tanks, causing an internal explosion which blew large plumes of flame and debris upwards. While the ferocious flames did not heavily spread to the nearby infrastructure, the ship continued burning for days until her superstructure and funnels collapsed inwards, smothering most of what remained. A handful of stray shells plowed straight through the large GTP signage present on the adjacent warehouse, exploding inside the structure and amidst the pier on which it stood.
SS Prince Rupert alongside the GTP Terminal in Vancouver Harbor. As one can see, the close proximity of surrounding docks would make any burning merchant a severe hazard.
On the second pass on the waterfront, the
Montreal received a barrage of continued gunfire and a torpedo from
Leipzig’s port tube which lanced out and struck her directly below the superstructure, increasing her list even further as a faint orange flicker could be gleamed through her portholes.
Willochra absorbed another round of blistering shellfire as one of her forward cargo derricks toppled down over the side, dipping its uppermost sections into the harbor below.
Protesilaus seemed to be fairing the worst out of the large liners to that point as the flooding of her forward cargo holds had caused the vessel to sink downwards by the bow, her already empty hull beginning to rise out of the water stern first. Further fire only served to send the liner into a death roll as they passed, her masts and rigging slowly digging themselves into the muddy bottom as her stern and aftermost decks jutted out of the water. Some errant shell fire had snuck its way past the rapidly thinning line of vessels and plowed their way into the railyard behind, crumpling wooden boxcars and messily bending track into all manner of haphazard angles. After providing the lone White Star Liner with her share of the destruction,
Leipzig retraced her initial route and looped back around to hopefully begin finishing the job. While she was moving at a fairly high speed for being inside a harbor, any commanding officer does not wish to overextend themselves and place their ship at undue risk. Even with their high speed, submarines could be lurking somewhere in the harbor waiting for the right time to launch a torpedo salvo into
Leipzig’s broadside. As the cruiser came back around on
Ionic, it became clear what almost 400 pounds of TNT could do to the internals of an old civilian ship as the German warship expended a third torpedo directly amidships. Her expansive machinery spaces flooded rather quickly as the older designs watertight compartments were not up to par with more modern systems, quickly sealing her fate. With three of the five valid targets in the harbor now struck by torpedo and clearly sinking, Haun’s focused fire left the
Willochra aflame from stem to stern with a sizable list on her outward facing side. One shell managed to pass by the Kiwi and bullseye a waiting locomotive in the yard behind the stricken vessel, the accompanying high pitched steam explosion acting as a violent salute to the nearby ships end. A torpedo likely could have been expended for the sole remaining vessel but it seems that Haun wished to have a pair of torpedoes kept in reserve for any future actions. The continuous fire into her hull only ceased as
Leipzig turned away after her third run down the coast, leaving the
Willochra far from home and slowly slipping beneath the oily black surf.
Leipzig’s initial attack on Vancouver Harbor ended at 0742 that morning with the people of a rather shaken city watching the cruisers stern disappear down the Second Narrows, moving further inland to reap whatever infrastructure she could find. With major fires burning on both sides of the harbor and vessels in various states of sinking, it was obvious to the few citizens who dared peek their heads up from shelter that they had been roughly handled. The terrified American merchantmen moored along their piers looked upwards and thanked their lucky stars they had been spared, the threat of the sleeping giant having stayed true to the bloodthirsty Hun. While the German cruisers reign of terror was nowhere near over, another source of destruction was slowly but surely making its way across the Strait of Georgia towards the undefended town of Ladysmith.
Ship Name | Link |
SS Ionic |
en.wikipedia.org
|
SS Willochra |
en.wikipedia.org
|
SS Montreal |
|
SS Princess Victoria |
|
SS Prince Rupert |
Passenger Ferry Prince Rupert 1910 Swan Hunter Wigham Richardson Wallsend
www.tynebuiltships.co.uk
|
SS Wapello |
|
SS Protesilaus |
Passenger cargo ship Protesilaus 1910 Hawthorn Leslie Hebburn River Tyne
www.tynebuiltships.co.uk
|
AN: Hello everybody, it's been far too long since my last post but here I am back over two months later! If you are just here for the posts themselves and not my personal ramblings, feel free check back in due time as my uploading schedule should be back on track I hope. If anything can be said, it can at least be that I managed to get one of my longest and most important chapters out before the end of 2020. I'll be completely honest, what initially started as a short break from the story has obviously turned into an embarrassing hiatus. I have had some very annoying difficulties in trying to get to feel and overall tone of the above chapter as close to right as I can get, I swear I've rewritten this chapter too many times to keep track of. I try and hold myself to the quality that I come to expect from some of the other authors on the site which has obviously came back to bite me squarely in the ass. I just wanted to say that I greatly appreciate all of the regulars that have followed this story up to this point and everybody who has dropped by to give even a part of the story a read. 2020 has been a hell of a year but I wish you all the best for what is left of this year and hopefully the remainder of the next.
Thanks for everything, it means a lot.