Submarine and Anti-submarine

In Short

This work serves as a historical chronicle of the submarine and anti-submarine warfare that defined the naval conflict of the First World War. It details the evolution of submarine technology, the strategic doctrine of the British Admiralty, and the desperate, ingenious tactics employed to counter the German U-boat blockade. By weaving together technical explanations with firsthand accounts of patrols, raids, and daring surface encounters, the narrative captures the immense psychological and physical strain placed upon sailors. It has endured as a primary perspective on the era’s maritime technology and national character.

The Story

The narrative begins by grounding the submarine not as a German invention, but as a long-sought mechanical evolution, tracing its lineage back to the seventeenth-century experiments of Cornelius van Drebbel. From these early, chemical-based attempts at atmospheric regulation, the story moves rapidly to the reality of the 1914–1918 conflict. The central tension is established early: the submarine is a weapon of surprise and stealth, yet it remains fundamentally vulnerable when confronted by a prepared adversary.

The arc of the conflict follows the escalation of the U-boat blockade and the British response. Initially, the submarine is viewed by some as an instrument capable of rendering the battleship obsolete, a theory the text systematically dismantles. Instead, the book argues that the submarine is merely another tool in the long history of naval warfare, governed by the same principles of seamanship and strategy. As the blockade tightens, the focus shifts to the "anti-submarine" effort, chronicling the rise of the Q-boat—heavily armed vessels disguised as harmless merchantmen—and the specialized patrol work of trawlers and drifters.

The narrative moves from the North Sea to the Baltic and the Dardanelles, illustrating that the submarine’s impact was often psychological, forcing the enemy to hold back entire fleets. The middle portion of the book serves as a technical and moral examination of these encounters. It details the precise, often mathematical, work of ramming a surfaced U-boat or the grueling patience of a periscope watch.

The story reaches its climax in the final chapters, which recount the daring raids on Zeebrugge and Ostend. These operations represent the shift from defensive patrol to active obstruction, intended to block the U-boat sally-ports. The book concludes by framing this history within a broader philosophical argument. It contrasts the British conception of naval honor—derived from what the author views as an inheritance of chivalry—against the "piracy" and "murderous" tactics of the German U-boat commanders. The final pages leave the reader with a clear sense of the war’s conclusion: the U-boats were successfully managed not merely through machines, but through the superior discipline, seamanship, and moral resolve of the British crews who hunted them.

How It Unfolds

The origins of the machine The author establishes the long, often misunderstood history of underwater travel, beginning with Drebbel’s seventeenth-century experiments. He emphasizes that the challenge of respiration—keeping the "vital flame" alive—was the primary obstacle for early inventors.

The shift to modern conflict The narrative transitions into the mechanical realities of the Great War, describing the claustrophobic life inside a modern submarine. It highlights the psychological toll of the periscope watch and the constant dread of suffocation that persisted even in harbor.

The strategy of the hunt The account moves into the tactical struggle between the battleship and the submarine. It explains how British commanders used "offensive-defensive" methods like ramming, turning the submarine’s own stealth against it.

The war of nerves The focus turns to the Baltic campaigns, where British E-boats successfully harassed German supply lines. It details individual encounters, such as the sinking of the Undine, to illustrate how a single submarine could influence regional command of the sea.

The final blockade The book concludes with the desperate efforts to seal the German harbors. It describes the massive, coordinated operation at Zeebrugge as a testament to the "high heroic spirit" required to end the threat of the U-boat.

The People

The book focuses on the "service" as a collective entity rather than a biography of a single hero, though specific commanders emerge as exemplars of the required temperament. Lieutenant Hersing appears early as the commander of the U-21, a figure who represents the initial, surprising threat of the German submarine campaign. Conversely, Lieut.-Commander Cromie and Commander Max Horton emerge as the archetypes of British naval excellence. They are depicted as cool, scientific, and decisive, particularly in the Baltic, where their ability to sink multiple vessels fundamentally altered the flow of German supplies.

Commander Campbell acts as the face of the Q-boat service, demonstrating the cold discipline required to lure a U-boat into a trap. His success is framed as a triumph of nerves over the "pirate" mindset. Alongside these leaders are the "skippers" of the drifters and trawlers, such as Thomas Lane and Edward Kemp. These men represent the civilian transition to naval combat, illustrating that the war was not the exclusive domain of the professional officer class, but a struggle that demanded resourcefulness from anyone capable of handling a vessel. Finally, the "German commander"—often represented by figures like Peckelsheim—is portrayed as an excitable, sensationalist figure who lacks the steady, professional stoicism of his British counterparts.

In Its Own Voice

‘Drebbel conceived,’ says Robert Boyle, in 1662, ‘that ’tis not the whole body of the air, but a certain Quintessence (as Chymists speake) or spirituous part of it that makes it fit for respiration.’

This reflection on the early history of submersibles highlights the author's interest in the fundamental scientific challenges of underwater life.

The curiosity is uppermost--the experience before you is much more novel than, for example, that of a first trip in an aeroplane.

This passage captures the awe and apprehension felt by the average person encountering the submarine for the first time during the war.

It is a baffling and trying experience to live for days with your eye glued to a periscope--the field of vision is contracted, and too close to the water.

This illustrates the intense physical and mental monotony that characterized the long patrols described throughout the book.

What It's Really About

The central argument is that the submarine did not revolutionize naval warfare in the way its proponents predicted, but rather served as a test of national character. The book posits that technology is subordinate to the human element; the "spirit" of the crew determines the outcome of the machine’s performance. It explores the tension between "legitimate" naval combat and what the author defines as "piracy," using the U-boat campaign as evidence of a perceived decline in German moral conduct. Ultimately, it is a study of how a democratic, seafaring nation adapts to a novel, unconventional threat by maintaining rigid professional standards and a belief in the continuity of its martial traditions.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of naval technology will appreciate the granular detail regarding torpedo depth, periscope optics, and the evolution of depth-charges. The book provides a vivid, if partisan, look at the intellectual climate of 1919, capturing the intense post-war bitterness toward the German naval command.

The prose is precise and evocative, particularly when describing the "black and silver water" or the claustrophobic heat of a submerged hull. However, the modern reader should be prepared for the author’s unabashed bias; his insistence on the innate moral superiority of the British Navy reflects the period's fervent nationalism. The book is not a balanced, retrospective academic study, but a contemporary document that acts as a bridge between the heroic naval narratives of the Victorian era and the grimmer, industrialized reality of the 20th century. It is best read as a testament to the sailors who survived the "monotonous" and "arduous" life on patrol. What stays with you is not the politics, but the stark descriptions of small, armed trawlers charging at U-boats, and the quiet, professional resolve of men who spent their lives in the "aerial abyss" of the deep.