‘File 28/7 I War: Propaganda: local opinion’ [‎227r] (458/664)

b A.A
if lfia ble measure, the
says nothing about sinking merchant ships without warning Y e T ChTifoT
mation is lacking in very many oases, details are available to pro^ that during
the period under review at least thirty-eight Allied merchant ships excS
bLckade” a 0 rea V ° yS ’ ' “ withoUt warain §' “ - near ihe ‘‘ totll
That the Germans themselves have no extag'g'erated record fnr ;
proved by the fact that of the thirty-eight ships referred to at least sixteen were
torpedoed outside the limits of the war zone.
The development of enemy tactics m the war on shipping is a theme outside
the scope of this paper, but two aspects of the matter may pe?haps be mentioned
The first is the increase in the proportion of torpedo attacks without
warning to gunfire attacks by submarines on the surface. Whereas for the first
twelve months the ratio was rather under 3:1, for the last six months it is
yproximately 8 :1. Whatever may be the factors which contribute to this
increase, the result must be that in many more cases the last shreds of leoitimacv
are torn from enemy submarine attacks. Not even the Germans can advance
the excuse that they were entitled to sink a ship on account of her persistent
refusal to stop, if she has never had a chance of seeing the submarine
The deplorable consequences of this type of warfare have been illustrated so
often that they have almost become a commonplace. It is only when people’s
consciences are shocked by what seems a particularly brutal attack that it is
realised how deplorable they are. The sinking of the City of Benares on the
17th September, 1940, is a good example of this. The City of Benares was an
11,000-ton liner with 191 passengers on board, including nearly 100 children.
She was torpedoed without warning just outside the “ war zone/’ with the loss
of 258 lives, including seventy-seven children. It was blowing a gale, with hail
and rain squalls and a very rough sea when the torpedo struck her at about
10 p.m. In the darkness and owing to the prevailing weather conditions, at
least four of the twelve boats lowered were capsized. Others were swamped and
many people were washed right out of them. In one boat alone 16 people,
including 11 children, died from exposure; in another 22 died, including
15 children, in a third 21 died. The point to be emphasised is not the unusual
brutality of this attack but rather that such results are inevitable when a
belligerent disregards the rules of sea warfare as the Germans have done and
are doing. Probably the commander of the U-boat did not know, when he fired
his torpedo, that there were children on board the City of Benares. It may be
that he did not even know the name of the ship, although there is strong evidence
that he must have been dogging her for some hours before torpedoing her. What
he must have known, however, was that this was a large merchant ship, probably
with civilian passengers on board, certainly with a crew of merchant seamen.
T e knew the state of the weather, and he knew that they were 600 miles from
^nd. Yet he followed them outside the blockade area and deliberately abstained
from firing his torpedo until after nightfall, when the chances of rescue would be
enormously diminished. The enemy cannot disclaim responsibility for the
results of such attacks, any more than he can disclaim responsibility for attacks
like that on the Severn Leigh, which, was first torpedoed without warning and
then shelled with shrapnel by the submarine while the crew were trying to
abandon ship. At least eight of the crew w T ere killed by the shell-fire, and
nineteen died as a result of exposure during a thirteen days’ voyage in an open
boat. Five others, including the ship’s cook, were left on a raft with only one
biscuit and a small bottle of water between them. They were several times
washed off the raft by the rough seas. Two of the five died and were thrown
overboard. Two others died later. A fortnight after the sinking of the Severn
Leigh, the raft was found with the two decomposed bodies and the cook still
alive.
There are hundreds of similar stories, stories of voyages for days in open
boats in Atlantic gales, of men in the water clinging for hours to a raft and
gradually dropping off one by one, of crews being machine-gunned as they tried
to lower their boats or as they drifted away in them, of seamen being blown to
pieces by shells and torpedoes and bombs. The enemy must know that such things
are the inevitable results of the type of warfare he has chosen to employ.