Fort Cornwallis today |
In my blog last week I described Fort Cornwallis, at
Georgetown, the main city on the island of Penang off the west cost of Peninsular
Malaysia. Though built in the early 19th Century to deter French
attack, it was never to experience direct assault – a measure indeed of its
value as a deterrent. It was however to be the witness to a spectacular battle directly
before its walls over a century later, one that involved a foe that was
undreamed of as a menace by the original builders. And three decades thereafter
it was also to see a most unexpected naval group based in the harbour that it
was designed to protect.
When war broke out in Europe in August 1914, Penang must
have seemed to be an unlikely battleground. German and Auto-Hungarian naval
power was almost entirely concentrated in European waters and though limited
German cruiser units were scattered around
the globe (Click here for more details), the most direct threat in the Indian
Ocean, the cruiser Konigsberg, based
in Tanganyika, East Africa, was quickly bottled up and neutralised, if not yet
destroyed. The most powerful single German naval force overseas was the East
Asiatic Cruiser Squadron, based in China – which seemed very far indeed from
the by-then sleepy anchorage of Penang which had been overtaken in importance
by nearby Singapore. The bulk of the East Asiatic Cruiser Squadron was to
disappear into the Pacific, only to reappear off the coast of Chile in late
October (Click here for details of the Battle of Coronel) but one of its ships,
the light cruiser SMS Emden, was
detached to create havoc in the Indian Ocean.
SMS Emden - and her chivalrous captain |
The Emden was a Dresden-class cruiser which entered
service in 1909 and spent most of her pre-war service in the Far East. Of 4268
tons and 388 feet long, her main armament was ten 4.1-inch guns and –
significantly, as it would later prove – two 18-inch torpedo tubes. For two months she ranged freely over the
Indian Ocean, capturing more than twenty merchant ships, with scrupulous
attention to preventing loss of life by their crews, and bombarding oil-storage
tanks at Madras, India. Her “Will o’ the Wisp” appearances in the Bay of
Bengal, then south west of Ceylon (Sri Lanka) towards the Maldive Islands, then
south towards the Chagos Archipelago, necessitated deployment of significant
British forces, supplemented by smaller French, Japanese and Russian ones, to
hunt her down before she could inflict damage on troop-reinforcement convoys
coming from Australia. The chivalrous behaviour of her captain, Karl von Müller
(1873-1923), and his rigorous observation of internationally-recognised rules
of commerce raiding so as to minimise loss of life, made him almost as much a
hero to Germany’s enemies as to Germany itself.
Emden's captain |
In late October Müller shifted his area of operations again
eastwards, towards the coast of Malaya, with the intention of moving south
towards Sumatra thereafter. His first objective was to be Penang, where his
unexpected appearance could be relied upon to cause further confusion for
Allied search-plans. To enhance the surprise element, and to aid uncontested
entry to the anchorage there, he caused a dummy funnel to be erected. This, in
addition to the Emden’s own three
funnels would give a superficial resemblance to one of the British “Towns Class”
light cruisers hunting her.
The anchorage off Georgetown, on Penang’s east coast, was
thronged with shipping (see diagram bllow from an American newspaper of the time),
including several light French naval vessels and the newly-arrived Russian
protected cruiser Zhemchug (also spelled
Jemchug in the western press).
The Zhemchug
appears to have been one of those rare vessels that have been unlucky
throughout their entire careers. Built at St. Petersburg as one of the
two-vessel Izumrud class, this
3100-ton, 365-foot protected cruiser, she had entered service in 1904, just in time to
join the Russian Baltic Fleet’s doomed voyage to confront the Japanese navy off
Korea. Conditions on board were abysmal
with extra coal stacked crew accommodation, poor ventilation, limited food,
heat-stroke vulnerability and frequent machinery breakdowns. When the Russians finally faced the Japanese
in the Tsu-Shima Strait between Japan and Korea the Zhemchug, scouting ahead, was to be one of the first vessels to
open fire. She was to sustain serious
damage, but unlike the vast majority of Russian vessels sunk or captured in
this battle of virtual annihilation, she did manage to escape, ending up
interned by the United States at Manila, in the Philippines, until the end of
the war. By late 1905 she was back in Russian service, only for her crew to
mutiny in Vladivostok as part of the failed Russian Revolution of that year.
With order restored, she was to be based at this port in the following years though
continuing mechanical unreliability limited her to short patrols.
Zhemchug |
In May 1914 the Zhemchug was given a new captain, Commander Baron Ivan
Alexandrovich Cherkassov, an appointment that was to prove catastrophic. As the
Emden’s depredations spread, he and
his cruiser were assigned to support Allied efforts to run her down. It was somehow ironic, given her pervious
history, that Zhemchug should be partnered with the Japanese Navy’s
cruiser Chikuma to search in the Bay
of Bengal. Given Zhemchug’s record of
poor serviceability this assignment appeared somewhat optimistic, and when she
arrived in Penang on 26th October it was for repairs and to clean
her boilers.
Assuming that the Emden
must be far off, and against the advice of the commander-in-chief of the Allied
Fleet, a Royal Navy Admiral, Zhemchug’s
Commander Cherkassov gave the majority of his crew shore leave, and left the
ship anchored a short distance from shore. Other than twelve ready-use rounds
stowed on deck, all shells were locked away and all torpedoes disarmed.
Cherkassov himself then repaired to the magnificently luxurious Eastern &
Oriental Hotel (still extant – I was there
last week A.V.) where he was to entertain a lady who, according to some
accounts, may have been his wife. Considering the lead given by their captain
it can hardly be expected that the crew members remaining on board were
particularly alert.
German postcard 1914 - Emden in left foreground |
Just before dawn on 28th October the Emden sailed boldly from the north into
the Penang anchorage, unchallenged due to her disguise. Had she been
efficiently manned, the Zhemchug
could have been a worthy opponent since her armament – eight 4.7-inch guns and
four 18-inch torpedo tubes arguably gave her a slight superiority. As Emden approached the still unsuspecting Zhemchug, Captain Müller ordered the German
colours to be run up and fire to be opened at point-blank range. As she passed
the Russian vessel Emden launched a
torpedo, hitting her aft. Limited as they were by shell-availability, the
Russians opened an ineffective fire, hitting a merchant ship anchored nearby. Emden arced around to reverse course so
as to leave the anchorage by the way she had entered. As she passed the
stricken Zhemchug she fired a second
torpedo, this time hitting her below the bridge. This was the coup de grace – the Russian cruiser
broke in two and sank, taking 89 men with her and leaving another 143 wounded.
As she made her escape Emden was
pursued by one of the French destroyers present – their state of readiness does
not seem to have been much better than the Russians’. This small craft, the Mousquet, was quickly overwhelmed by the
Emden’s guns.
April 2013: Crew from Russian destroyer Marshal Shaposhnikov pay tribute to the Zhemchug's crew at the memorial at their graves in Penang |
The Emden’s
retreat encountered no further opposition but her days were numbered. On 9th
November she was run down and destroyed by the Australian cruiser HMAS Sydney at the Cocos Islands, south of
Sumatra. During her three-months cruise Emden had sailed 30,000 nautical miles
and had sunk or captured over 70,000 tons of Allied shipping. Karl von Müller
was brought to Britain as a prisoner of war, and while there led a breakout,
though he was subsequently recaptured. He died in 1923, at the tragically young
age of 50, as a result of malaria-associated illness dating from his days in
the tropics.
German U-boats at Penang, 1943-45 period |
The Emden’s daring
attack was not however to be the end of German naval involvement with Penang. In
1942, as Japanese forces advanced through the Pacific and South-East Asia, the
idea was mooted in Germany of sending U-Boats to the Indian Ocean to operate
together with Japanese units. The proposal may have had some value in publicity
terms as regards emphasising unit of purpose within the Axis but the logistics
involved were formidable. Refuelling would be essential for units sent from
Germany – by necessity by the Cape of Good Hope route – and this would require
stationing of submarine tankers off Brazil and surface units in the Indian
Ocean. By the time that the plan was implemented in 1943 the Anglo-American
navies were gaining the upper hand in the anti-submarine war and the “Gruppe
Monsun” force of German U-boats was to suffer a horrific casualty rate. The
first step was to send large Italian-origin submarines to establish a base at
Penang and thereafter seventeen U-bats were sent to follow in two waves. Of
these only five reached Penang due to Allied air attack en route and to Allied submarines stationed off Malaya in response
to decrypted information on German movements. A further eight U-boats reached
the Far East thereafter. At the time of Germany’s surrender in May 1945 the six
U-boats still in Japanese-controlled area were taken over by the Japanese Navy.
Some successes were scored by the
Penang-based U-boats – including sinkings as far south as off Fremantle in Australia, but the gains were
totally disproportionate to the resources squandered in what was largely a
propaganda-motivated campaign.
And in Penang today no memory seems to remain of the fact
that the Nazi Reichsmarine once had a
base there. Sic transit…
Great post. I have been to Penang several times and its is a wonderful blend of all sorts of history, One of my favourite places in SE Asia.
ReplyDeletePS It is also an unlikely spot for a WW2 Italian Submarine to have been reflagged into the IJN.
Thanks Paul - glad you enjoyed this. The Italian submarines played a very important role in the effort to set up the Penang base - they were large craft and well suited to Ocean operations. I'm not sure what the strategic purpose was of developing these craft as one would expect the emphasis to have been on Mediterranean operations. Another topic worth following up is that of Italian submarine operations - and sinkings - during the Spanish Civil War. Another day, another blog perhaps... On a slightly different note it's interesting to wonder how German crews spent shore leave in Penang and how Japanese crews did so when they reached the French Atlantic Coast. Could be a starting point for interesting fiction!
ReplyDeleteThe Italian boats were deemed so obsolete that they were considered useless for anything but the journey there with essential war materiel. The story of those journeys is very impressive actually - stripped down to bare bones (guns removed, no torpedoes) the seamanship and navigation of the Italian Captains is quote incredible. One arrived with barely a few gallons of fuel remaining. The Kriegsmarine had promised to replace them with brand new Type VII U-boats and a couple were even delivered before the Italian armistice (at which point they were seized and returned to Germans service).
DeleteBTW Among other punishments, Captain Baron Charkassov of the Zhemchung was sentenced to perpetual bachelorhood by the Tsar so that "he could not perpetuate his disgraceful family name" !
ReplyDeletehttp://pauljamesog.blogspot.com/2008/09/captain-baron-cherkassov.html
Two great comments Paul - the Italian submarine story could make a splendid basis for a novel in the Douglas Reeman tradition.
ReplyDeleteAnd if Charkassov as condemned to "perpetual bachelorhood" then it casts doubt on the story that the lady with him in the Eastern and Oriental was his wife! I presume that after regime change in 1917 he might have been able to put an end to his bachelorhood - if he survived!