Losing one to a torpedo just outside of Scapa Flow will surely lead to more torpedo protection.
Dread Nought but the Fury of the Seas
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- Start date
The weakness shown here is in torpedo protection. Improvements might have to narrow the engine spaces.
A series of test targets; sections of different torpedo defence bulkheads. These could each receive a standard torpedo hit. We might never see tubes added to actual ships' bulges as even spaced vertical layers are proven.
Furthermore the damage control has room for improvement. There is no reason coal doors aren't easier to shut off from encroaching seawater. The hatch issues (plugging and lighting) also need attention.
ASDIC arrays for the home base?
A series of test targets; sections of different torpedo defence bulkheads. These could each receive a standard torpedo hit. We might never see tubes added to actual ships' bulges as even spaced vertical layers are proven.
Furthermore the damage control has room for improvement. There is no reason coal doors aren't easier to shut off from encroaching seawater. The hatch issues (plugging and lighting) also need attention.
ASDIC arrays for the home base?
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Absolutely, if they're going to lose a ship, there are worse ones to lose ... even so, they're one more BC down.
It will certainly reinforce the need for torpedo protection, but to be fair that was (and is in the story) well underway by May 1916 - being caught by submarines was Jellicoe's biggest worry for much of the early part of war.
In the story, all the BCs up to the Follies have virtually no torpedo protection, other than coal bunkers and internal bulkheads abeam the magazines. C & G and Furious are better, as they do have a torpedo bulkhead over the vitals and an 'internal bulge', which is too shallow but better than nothing. The 'Admirals' protection is much better (but not quite as good as the real Hood).
RN battleships were better than the battlecruisers in this respect, as most of them had a torpedo bulkhead over both magazine and engine spaces.
In reality, Hood was the first RN ship to have 'proper' underwater protection, with R&R and the Follies as an intermediate step. The Americans started their improvements a little earlier, and achieved much the same result at the same time with their layered system on the Tennessee class.
It's 1916, so the Chatham Float is already up and running (it was used to test bulges, then R&R and Hood's protection).
As you say, the trick is to keep experimenting.
Damage control - definitely lessons to be learned there. A lot was learned from Audacious, and now they have an example of what went wrong onboard a ship that sank relatively quickly.
Coal hatches were always a bit of a problem, as explosions had/have a tendency to distort bulkheads and hatches (which might easily have happened here), so the trick is to have them firmly shut before impact - there's a lesson they might learn.
Definitely need to do better on lighting, plugs/pads and bracing beams.
To be fair to them, I've described a tricky scenario. The I-class had very little torpedo protection (not really much better than the Aboukir, Cressy etc..), and between the engine and aft boiler room is about the worst place for the ship to be hit, as it would flood two huge spaces, both biased to produce a list to port (BR No.4 was asymmetrical due to the midships magazine).
They varied somewhat as the bulge designs were modified (Ramillies was the first major ship to be bulged - before she was completed in 1917). The others were bulged immediately after the war. There were lots of test-tank studies on bulges and they apparently didn't have that much of any effect on speed - about a knot for Renown, 3/4 knot for a QE.
The best figures I could find for the Rs are Ramillies (bulged) 21.5kts @ 33,000t, Revenge (unbulged) 21.9kts @30,800t.
Obviously, that's when they were new-ish.
They grew in weight, and by the late 30s I believe most of them were at about 35,000 tons and had to be pushed to reach 20 knots, and then only if the aging machinery was in adequate condition.
One More Day of Coaling
One More Day of Coaling
The Midshipman was black from head to toe; except for his eyes, which he daren’t rub with his filthy hands or sleeves. Every part of him was ingrained with coal dust, just like everyone in his mess, just like everyone else in the ship.
Like all his messmates, he’d spent the day aboard a lighter alongside his ship, shovelling coal into sacks and dodging the hoist’s hook as it was repeatedly lowered into the filthy hold of the barge. These days, he knew to avoid the coal sacks as the men on the battleship’s deck above threw them back down after they’d emptied them into the chutes. ‘Bagging a Snotty’ was part of the tradition for the men; trying to test their aim at one of the young gentlemen helped to relieve the boredom of the back-breaking work. There were tactics to the game too; the men above knew it was preferable to throw the empty sack when both the target and the Lieutenant of the watch weren’t looking, but to be caught ‘idling’ while waiting for the perfect opportunity was unsporting, and could easily earn the idler a snarled rebuke.
The Midshipman was an old hand at this game by now, but two of the ship’s newest and youngest had caught a few sacks on the head today.
Even once he’d showered, he was still grimy, and he was exhausted, but he still had his diary to write. Lieutenant Smythe would overlook the odd mistake and give him a quiet nudge when he needed it, but not keeping a proper journal was sure to draw his wrath.
Two days ago, the ship had sailed on another patrol; yet another sweep out of the Flow towards the East. At least this one had been a little out of the ordinary, as they had weighed anchor just after dark and passed the boom at midnight. The rumour in the ship was that the German battlecruisers were out. As the lumbering battleship had ploughed through the lumpy grey North Sea, he’d tried to snatch a few minutes to study for his next navigation exam, while also going about his usual duties of chivvying his men along; not that sailors with a decade or more’s experience at sea could learn much from a lad barely out of Dartmouth.
But that was another tradition; today, he had charge of a few seamen who knew their places in one of the ship’s five 12” gun turrets. Next year, he could be a sub-lieutenant in a destroyer or a cruiser, then … one day, in command of a ship, or perhaps a fleet of ships, each even mightier than the Collingwood.
They’d been called to Action Stations in the afternoon, but nothing came of it. Once the turret was manned and reported ready for action, he’d been able to sit on top, staring out over the grey lines of the Grand Fleet’s battle squadrons that stretched across miles of ocean. Even with the ship closed up, the word soon circulated that it was just another drill.
It all turned out to be another bust. The Germans weren’t out, and rumours had it that they’d just been staging an exercise off the Jade, or that they’d come out and then turned back for some reason.
Feeling dead tired, he lingered in the mess just long enough to write a simple note in his diary;
‘1st of June 1916. Returned to harbour in the forenoon and moored at our buoy. Why doesn’t the Hun come out and fight!
Expect tomorrow will be one more day of coaling.’
The Midshipman was black from head to toe; except for his eyes, which he daren’t rub with his filthy hands or sleeves. Every part of him was ingrained with coal dust, just like everyone in his mess, just like everyone else in the ship.
Like all his messmates, he’d spent the day aboard a lighter alongside his ship, shovelling coal into sacks and dodging the hoist’s hook as it was repeatedly lowered into the filthy hold of the barge. These days, he knew to avoid the coal sacks as the men on the battleship’s deck above threw them back down after they’d emptied them into the chutes. ‘Bagging a Snotty’ was part of the tradition for the men; trying to test their aim at one of the young gentlemen helped to relieve the boredom of the back-breaking work. There were tactics to the game too; the men above knew it was preferable to throw the empty sack when both the target and the Lieutenant of the watch weren’t looking, but to be caught ‘idling’ while waiting for the perfect opportunity was unsporting, and could easily earn the idler a snarled rebuke.
The Midshipman was an old hand at this game by now, but two of the ship’s newest and youngest had caught a few sacks on the head today.
Even once he’d showered, he was still grimy, and he was exhausted, but he still had his diary to write. Lieutenant Smythe would overlook the odd mistake and give him a quiet nudge when he needed it, but not keeping a proper journal was sure to draw his wrath.
Two days ago, the ship had sailed on another patrol; yet another sweep out of the Flow towards the East. At least this one had been a little out of the ordinary, as they had weighed anchor just after dark and passed the boom at midnight. The rumour in the ship was that the German battlecruisers were out. As the lumbering battleship had ploughed through the lumpy grey North Sea, he’d tried to snatch a few minutes to study for his next navigation exam, while also going about his usual duties of chivvying his men along; not that sailors with a decade or more’s experience at sea could learn much from a lad barely out of Dartmouth.
But that was another tradition; today, he had charge of a few seamen who knew their places in one of the ship’s five 12” gun turrets. Next year, he could be a sub-lieutenant in a destroyer or a cruiser, then … one day, in command of a ship, or perhaps a fleet of ships, each even mightier than the Collingwood.
They’d been called to Action Stations in the afternoon, but nothing came of it. Once the turret was manned and reported ready for action, he’d been able to sit on top, staring out over the grey lines of the Grand Fleet’s battle squadrons that stretched across miles of ocean. Even with the ship closed up, the word soon circulated that it was just another drill.
It all turned out to be another bust. The Germans weren’t out, and rumours had it that they’d just been staging an exercise off the Jade, or that they’d come out and then turned back for some reason.
Feeling dead tired, he lingered in the mess just long enough to write a simple note in his diary;
‘1st of June 1916. Returned to harbour in the forenoon and moored at our buoy. Why doesn’t the Hun come out and fight!
Expect tomorrow will be one more day of coaling.’
coaling (and for that matter stoking)has never been a popular thing for the crew to do, its one of the many reasons why sailors assigned to the QEs and other exclusively oil fuled ships loved being assigned to them
War is a sorry duty. The admission that politics has reduced to the slaverings of wild dogs. There is no reason to kill men, yet they will kill you and yours if you don't. To read of this young lad eager to scrap with the "Hun", you know he is thinking more of the playground light physical exchange than the grim finality and horrendous toll of battle. He cannot imagine. Once done, never to be undone. Even victory a disaster.
I'm glad some one noticed that possibility.
No, he doesn't, nor do thousands like him ... just another missed opportunity.
But this gives the Germans more time to prepare their fleet and the RN to built up for the inevitable clash and test of strength between the two navies. Perhaps the Germans are trying to rush their BC's although they'll only have the Hindenberg ready and in service as well as possibly 2 x 15-inch gunned ships, 1 for sure.
I've lost track of the RN's building program but they'll have at least 2 x AU Renowns and the AU Furious ready.
And the RN should in theory have all 5 QE's available too.
I've lost track of the RN's building program but they'll have at least 2 x AU Renowns and the AU Furious ready.
And the RN should in theory have all 5 QE's available too.
Jutland didn't happen.
Der Tag has been postponed. The enemy apologises for any inconvenience caused...
Hear, hear ...
In due course, they will go out again, ready to give old Fritz a damn' good thrashing, genuinely worried that he'll turn tail and run before they have chance to get at him.
Of course, the enemy might not be in the mood to co-operate, and those that come home will no longer have to imagine.
As you say, it gives everyone more time to prepare, even if maybe only a month or two...
Aside from ships, it gives time for a little more lobbying and re-arranging ... and you-know-who likes that fast squadron.
That's a good point about where everything is. I'll do an update on the order of battle before 'The Day' comes.
For now, I'll say that the Renowns are in the final stages of completion/early trials, and Furious is nowhere near ready (she's about to be launched).
Hindenburg will complete earlier than OTL, but despite Fisher's convenient rumours of 1915, she's no 14" monster and she won't be around before the end of 1916. The Germans already have an 'extra' battlecruiser, the Goeben.
Coulsdon Eagle
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In addition the RN will have Emperor of India, Australia & at least one more R-class; the Germans should have Konig Albert available, possibly Baden or Bayern.
There'll probably always be a ship or two in refit or repair, however for the RN, perhaps the best news is that there are no R-class ships at all!
In the story, the 1913 battleships are the 'Royals', an economy version of the Queen Elizabeths (OTL design 'X2') ... but they're not all ready yet and they have different drawbacks.