U.S.S. Holland, U.S. Navy's first commissioned submarine Photo credit: moddb.com

A Brief History of Submarines, Part 2

As the 19th century drew to a close, submarine design innovation began to accelerate. Irish inventor John Phillip Holland, working in America, resolved the thorny problem of propulsion by combining an internal combustion engine for surface travel with electric battery power for submerged operation. The “Holland Type VI,” his most successful model, became the U.S. Navy’s first commissioned submarine in 1900.

In the first decade of the new century diesel engines became the preferred source of surface propulsion, reducing the fire danger posed by gasoline or kerosene engines. More powerful battery-driven electric motors provided greater range underwater. A further innovation allowed batteries to be recharged by a submarine’s main engines while running on the surface. During this period, France introduced the now-classic double-hull design (a pressure hull inside an outer hull).

On the eve of World War I, the Royal Navy fleet included 74 submarines, 15 of which were oceangoing boats with a range of 2,500 miles and cruising speed of ten knots. These were the first submarines equipped with a deck gun forward of the conning tower, producing a silhouette recognizable as the first modern submarine.

Yet, with all these innovations and developments, the submarine’s full potential as a weapon of war was not apparent to Europe’s naval commanders. Battle strategies anticipated squadrons of surface vessels, led by massive battleships (dreadnaughts) throwing shells 20 miles or more, slugging it out for control of the high seas. By contrast, the submarine was seen as best suited for coastal protection and attacking blockades.

But World War I would lead to changes in naval strategy and tactics that would favor the submarine’s unique characteristics. More about that in our next blog.

The first practical submarine was built in 1620's by Dutch inventor Cornelius Drebble. Photo credit: Civilian Military Intelligence Group

A Brief History of Submarines, Part 1

From the earliest days of sail, ancient civilizations dreamed of a vessel that could carry sailors underwater to unlock the ocean’s mysteries and, not surprisingly, to attack enemy ships by surprise. Over centuries many ideas were committed to paper, but none proved practical when brought to life.

The first successful submarine was developed by a Dutch inventor, Cornelius Drebbel, working for the King of England. Drebbel tested his wooden ship in the early 17th century on the River Thames. Powered by oars, the craft could submerge and surface at will and could remain underwater for up to three hours with the help of snorkel-like tubes. While Drebbel’s design validated the concept of the submarine, the world would wait another 250 years for advances in science and technology to begin to unlock its full potential.

A German-American engineer built the first modern submarine in 1866 for the Pacific Pearl Co. The “Sub Marine Explorer” could reach a depth of 100 feet, used compressed air to equalize pressure on the hull, and maneuvered underwater with a hand-powered propeller. Unfamiliarity with “decompression sickness” (known today as “the bends”) and overfishing the pearl beds off Panama’s coast led to the craft being abandoned three years later.

Across the Atlantic, the same year the Sub Marine Explorer made its maiden voyage, the first modern, self-propelled torpedo was designed in England. Powered by compressed air, the torpedo could travel eight miles per hour and reliably strike a target at 700 yards, potentially making the submarine a more viable weapon of war.

Submarines and torpedoes came together in the 1880’s. Incorporating design advances from French and Spanish engineers, the Nordenfelt IV, built by a Swedish industrialist, was armed with two torpedoes. The 100-ton, twin screw vessel was powered by steam on the surface and propelled underwater by pressure built up when the engine ran on the surface. Nevertheless, technical problems remained – chief among them was need for a source of long-distance underwater propulsion.

The most promising answer to the propulsion question appeared to be electric motors. In 1884 a Polish-Russian engineer successfully tested a battery-driven one-horsepower motor in a submerged boat in the Neva River. But the limitations of early batteries restricted the submarine’s range underwater and failed to attract the support of naval officials in Europe and the Americas. Yet each subsequent design added new innovations (i.e. periscope, hydroplanes, electric gyroscope) that would prove indispensable with the development of the modern submarine at the dawn of the 20th century.

In my next blog, the submarine becomes a devastating new weapon of war. 

Nine Athenia survivors attended the commemorative Halifax luncheon. They are, from left, Heather Watts, Barbara Gunyon, Geoffrey Etherington, Margaret Desanti, Scott Calder, Cynthia Gustafson, Vivian Collver, Jacqueline Bullock, and Phillip Gunyon. Photo credit: Kay Sanger

An Athenia “Reunion”

On Sept. 3, 2019, nearly 60 people assembled for a luncheon in Halifax, Nova Scotia, to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the sinking of a British passenger ship on the first day of World War II. They came from four Canadian provinces and several American states, and ranged in age from pre-teens to a nonagenarian. They were survivors and descendants of survivors of a German U-boat attack that sank the TSS Athenia.

Eight decades have caused the Athenia tragedy to fade from our collective memory. Over the years, survivors and descendants have told their family stories to local audiences, given interviews to news media, published accounts of their experiences, and contributed to websites devoted to the war. Most of these activities have taken place in relative isolation.

Until last Sept. 3, no one had mounted a physical event to bring together the dwindling number of survivors. The 80th anniversary of the sinking motivated three Canadian survivors – Vivian Collver, Phillip Gunyon, and Heather Watts – to reach out to contacts they had gathered over the years, people with a family or professional connection to Athenia. When the email invitations to attend a commemorative luncheon at the Halifax Marriott Harbourfront Hotel, there were close to 75 names on the list.

The organizers expected perhaps 25 people would respond. In fact twice that many said they planned to come. As the grandson of a survivor and author of a historical novel based on the sinking, Without Warning, I was pleased to attend the luncheon. (Later that evening, I was honored to tell Athenia’s story with an illustrated lecture at the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, a few blocks from the Marriott Harbourfront.)

The luncheon was the first organized a “reunion” for Athenia survivors, and as they began to gather in a beautiful hotel dining room overlooking Halifax Harbor, the atmosphere was electric. Most of them were meeting for the first time. It struck me that much of the energy in the room derived from the participants’ opportunity to associate with such a large gathering of people who shared their experiences, emotions, and the unseen scars the sinking visited upon their families. Despite their differing ages and backgrounds, they also shared a bond that acknowledged the courage and sacrifice of their forebears. Laughter and occasional tears punctuated the afternoon as guests exchanged stories and worked through their understanding of how those long-ago events had shaped their lives.

Six other survivors – Jacqueline Bullock, George (Scott) Calder, Margaret Desanti, Geoffrey Etherington, Barbara Gunyon, and Cynthia Gustafson – joined Vivian, Phil, and Heather in Halifax. All of the nine had been children traveling with parents when their ship was torpedoed. They credited their parents’ positive attitude throughout the ordeal for keeping them from understanding the dangers they were facing at the time.

For descendants it was a chance to confirm with survivors the details of family stories, to gain insights, and to commiserate over the emotional toll the sinking had on their parents or grandparents. Some luncheon guests revealed their parents never spoke to them about what they had endured, leaving them with questions that will never be answered.

The afternoon left me with a renewed understanding that history doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It happens to people. The impact of events radiate out like the ever widening ripples from a stone dropped in water. Even eighty years later, the ripples of Athenia’s sinking continue to affect those who survived it.

Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, Halifax, Nova Scotia Photo credit: Wikipedia

Athenia’s 80th Anniversary

At the start of World War II, the passenger ship Athenia was torpedoed by a German submarine and became the first British ship sunk by the Nazis in the war. While Athenia’s story has faded over the intervening decades, people intent on keeping her memory alive will assemble in Halifax, Nova Scotia, on Sept. 3, 2019, to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the sinking.

Athenia was bound for Canada with 1,418 souls aboard, when she was torpedoed by a German U-boat northwest of Ireland. One hundred twelve passengers and crew members died as a result of the attack that shocked the world on the first day of the war. By the end of the war, however, Athenia’s sinking had seemingly been lost in a tangle of Nazi denials and overrun by the scale of the war’s carnage.

Come Sept. 3, Athenia’s memory will be revived when nearly a dozen survivors and descendants of survivors meet in Halifax, the city that welcomed 236 passengers from the ship after they were picked up at sea by an American freighter 80 years ago.

The Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, located on the city’s historic waterfront, will host an evening program devoted to the Athenia. I am honored to be the featured speaker and hope to share the dais with survivors telling their stories of survival. The program is open to the public and will begin at 6:30 p.m. The museum will remain open until 8 p.m.

Eighty years ago, today’s remaining survivors were children traveling with their parents when Athenia sailed into harm’s way. With most now in their mid to late 80s, the gathering presents a rare opportunity to preserve their eye-witness accounts for our documentary film. Our film crew will be on hand for several days to conduct one-on-one interviews with the survivors and descendants about their families’ encounter with history.

Athenia should not be forgotten, nor should the sacrifice of the men, women, and children who died that night in the North Atlantic when their ship was torpedoed. Our documentary is dedicated to preserving their memory and Athenia’s place in history.

Writing the novel was the easy part. Photo credit: Kay Sanger

The Writing Game

Getting started as an author is a time-consuming and daunting task. When I wrote my historical novel, Without Warning, I learned that researching and writing the first draft, which sometimes felt like pulling teeth, was the easy part.

After editing, revising, and polishing my manuscript to a fine sheen, I conducted a lengthy search for a publisher to deliver my novel to readers in print and electronic form. When River Grove Books (a division of Greenleaf Book Group) published Without Warning, I discovered the most demanding part of my journey still lay ahead: selling my book to the public. That/s right, most authors become the main sales representative for their books. Here is why.

On average, more than 10,000 new book titles are published every week in America. Last year the total number of books published topped 1 million for the first time. Publishers simply do not have the resources to launch advertising campaigns on behalf of every one of their new titles. “A”-list authors get that treatment because they’ve earned it. It’s up to the rest of us to somehow make a lasting impression of our own in this crowded market.

Fortunately, the folks at Greenleaf offered plenty of ideas for me to pursue on the Internet, making sure I established a presence with author’s pages on Amazon, Facebook, and Goodreads. A year before my novel’s publication I established a website and began a regular blog. My wife and I set up a book launch event at our local library and speaking engagements up and down the West Coast and Florida to tell the story of my novel’s central event, the torpedoing of the British passenger ship Athenia at the beginning of World War II.

We are not marketing experts. Some of these efforts have been hits and some have been misses. As I indicated in my last blog, the latest sales figures show our efforts sold nearly 400 books in nearly two years. Not bad, when you realize the average sales for each book published in the U.S. is 250 copies.

You can imagine how thrilled we were with two recent developments that were quite unexpected. First, in early June, Without Warning won the San Diego Book Award for historical fiction.

That same month, I received word from my publisher that Barnes & Noble had selected Without Warning to launch its new program, called “Digital Deals.” For one day only, June 29, B&N made electronic copies of my novel available on its Nook e-reader for a purchase price of $0.99. When the dust settled, we learned 1,220 e-books were sold through the promotion. What a thrill to be chosen by B&N for this promotion and to see my novel triple its reach in one day.

It is most gratifying to gain all this exposure now, as we approach the 80th anniversary of the start of WWII and Athenia’s sinking. I’ll have more about a big anniversary event planned for Halifax, Nova Scotia, in my next blog.

Photo credit: Mashable

Athenia Story: A Compelling Documentary Subject

Two years ago I published my historical novel, Without Warning, about the British passenger ship Athenia, which was sunk on the first day of World War II. In writing a novel, I hoped its emotional impact would bring this long-forgotten event to the attention of a wide audience and honor the sacrifice and heroism of Athenia’s passengers. Sales to date total 391 books. Obviously, I am a long way from realizing my goal. The question is how to reach a wider audience more quickly?

I’m hoping the answer is a documentary film.

Earlier this year my wife, Kay, and I embarked on an effort to produce a documentary about Athenia. We hope to film interviews with as many survivors as we can locate.

We began last January by filming Geoff Etherington at his Florida home. Geoff was ten years old and traveling with his parents, Ruth and Harold, aboard Athenia when the ship was torpedoed. The Etherington family story is one of several dramatic tales from Without Warning that illustrate the strength and courage of the people aboard Athenia who suddenly found themselves thrust into a war they thought they had escaped.

We plan to film several more interviews with survivors or their descendants September 3, when we meet in Halifax, Nova Scotia, at the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, to mark the 80th anniversary of the start of World War II and Athenia’s sinking.

Of course, we are on a steep learning curve with this project. A book is a fairly straight-forward endeavor. Once I researched and wrote the manuscript, I relied on a few key people to help edit, design, and see my novel into print.

By contrast, a film involves many more people. We must find and interview the survivors, descendants, and experts that can help tell Athenia’s story. To do that, we need the skills of cinematographers, sound recordists, actors (to recreate some scenes described by interviewees), a film editor, sound editor, composer (for incidental music), and a director to bring all these elements together in an artistic vision. Once that vision is realized, more people will be involved with the film’s distribution and promotion.

Each of these steps requires people who combine technical expertise with artistic sensitivity. Fortunately, we live in San Diego, which supports a thriving independent film community. Additional help, if needed, lies two hours to the north in Los Angeles, a nexus of the film industry.

Of course, this effort will require a significant budget to see our film through to completion. But if all goes well, we hope to have a compelling documentary film ready to distribute by early next year.

In the next few weeks we will make some changes to this website, adding a new page that will keep you up to date on our progress toward a completed documentary. And so, in those time-honored words we hear so often, I invite you to, “Stay truned.”

Soviet soldiers advance through the rubble of Stalingrad. Photo credit: Encyclopedia Britannica

Why Don’t We Remember Athenia? Part 6

When German submarine torpedoed the British passenger ship Athenia on the first day of World War II, Sept. 3, 1939, the final death toll included 112 innocent men, women and children. The British immediately sought to condemn Germany’s Nazi government for this “barbarous act” by publicizing it around the world. Yet, at the end of the war nearly six years later, the world had largely forgotten this event.

In previous blogs we explored various reasons why Athenia faded into history’s shadows: the fact that 90 percent of Athenia’s passengers and crew survived the attack, that Germany denied responsibility for the attack until the Nuremberg trials in 1947, that the attack did not bring the U.S. into the war despite the deaths of 30 Americans, and that within months of the start of hostilities, Germany abandoned the treaties governing maritime conflicts and conducted unrestricted submarine warfare on merchant shipping for the duration of the war (followed by all other combatant nations).

One circumstance, however, likely bears the greatest responsibility for Athenia’s relative anonymity: the utter destruction wrought by World War II on humanity.

As the war progressed, people became inured to the casualty figures for individual battles: D-Day and the Battle of Normandy cost nearly 130,000 lives; the Battle of the Bulge, 187,000 lives; the Battle of Stalingrad, more than 1 million; and 112,000 killed instantly in Japan with the explosion of two atomic bombs. With the war’s end came the horrific revelation of the six million people killed in the Holocaust.

In terms of the total number of dead, the war was the most costly military conflict in history. The number of men and women in uniform who died during World War II is estimated at between 21 million and 25 million.
The number of civilian deaths, however, is estimated at between 50 million and 55 million, including deaths from war-related disease and famine.

Even taking the lower range of the military and civilian deaths, the total represented 3 percent of the world’s population, estimated at about 2.3 billion in 1940.

It is easy to see how these astounding casualty numbers overwhelm the deaths of 112 people on the first day of the war. Still, we can remember the Athenia dead as harbingers of the fate that awaited civilians around the world in the nearly six years of war that followed.

U-boats began attacking merchant ships without warning less than two months into World War II. Photo credit: Torpedo Vorhaltrechner Project.

Why Don’t We Remember Athenia, Part 5

In recent blogs we explored reasons why the German submarine attack that sank the British passenger ship Athenia in the first day of World War II is largely forgotten today. The facts that more than 90 percent of the ship’s passengers and crew survived, that the Nazi government denied responsibility for the attack, and that the death of 30 Americans aboard Athenia did not bring the U.S. into the war, were all seen as contributing to this historical oversight. In today’s blog we continue our exploration with a look at the rules of war.
Press accounts of the Sept. 3, 1939, attack all expressed shock that it had come “without warning.” Today such a reference sounds quaint and naïve, but in 1939 the rules of war – agreed to under international treaties – required submarines to warn certain prospective victims of their intention to attack.
During World War I, German submarines, or U-boats, proved to be such a devastating weapon that following the war, there was talk of outlawing submarines altogether. Negotiators ultimately agreed submarines could be retained as weapons of war so long as conditions were placed on their use.
These conditions were established in 1930 and reinforced in the 1936 London Submarine Protocol, which set out rules for the conduct of submarines in future wars. Enemy warships and merchant ships sailing under escort could be attacked without restriction. But submarines could not attack unarmed, unescorted merchant ships without first giving warning, and to do that they had to be on the ocean’s surface. Once a submarine stopped a merchant ship, it could send a boarding party onto the ship, and if any contraband was found in the ship’s hold, the ship could be sunk.
Submarines are most vulnerable while they are surfaced, so the protocol’s requirements were totally impractical from a tactical standpoint. Nevertheless, 35 nations, including Germany, signed the 1936 London Submarine Protocol. For the three years following its adoption, however, there had not been a major maritime conflict to test its effectiveness.
When Athenia was sunk by a U-boat without any warning, the world feared Germany was returning to the practice of unrestricted submarine warfare that it followed in World War I.
The Nazi U-boat captain who sank Athenia told his superiors he thought he had attacked a British armed merchant cruiser, a legitimate wartime target. He only discovered his mistake after coming to the surface to observe the sinking ship. Indeed, he continued his war patrol and sank two more British merchant ships while scrupulously following the protocol rules.
But by the end of September 1939, Hitler issued several conditions under which his U-boats could ignore the protocol’s restrictions and attack merchant ships without warning. These conditions applied if merchant ships were blacked out, used their radios to report German naval positions, or were obviously armed.
The practical effect of the Führer’s order was to sanction unrestricted U-boat warfare. Within a month, U-boat attacks on merchant ships without giving warning became commonplace, which prompted all others to abandon the London protocol. Once the world’s navies adopted the tactics of unrestricted submarine warfare, the shock of Athenia having been sunk without warning quickly faded.

Next month: War’s utter devastation

America First Committee Rally, early 1940s Photo credit: American History USA

Why Don’t We Remember Athenia, Part 4

When the British passenger ship Athenia was torpedoed and sunk on the first day of World War II, it took several days to assemble a comprehensive list of survivors, as well as the names of those who died. In the final counting, 30 Americans were among the 112 persons killed as a result of the attack. Despite the deaths of innocent U.S. civilians, America did not go to war with Germany following Athenia’s sinking.

Officially, the United States was a neutral country in the burgeoning war. Not long after the sinking, Americans who survived the attack began to ask the government to seek compensation from Germany for property they had lost on board Athenia. At the time, Germany was denying any responsibility for the attack (see blog post, Feb. 1, 2019), so the passengers’ requests put the U.S. government in a potentially awkward diplomatic position.

To preserve its neutrality, the U.S. State Department asked the American survivors to file affidavits detailing under oath what they saw and heard during the sinking. When all the accounts were gathered, respondents were notified that the State Department was “making a careful investigation with a view to determining the facts and responsibility for the sinking of the S.S. Athenia.” The department promised to give Athenia survivors details about preparing their claims if and when the investigation determined “a foreign government” was responsible for the damages suffered.

Based on information submitted by the survivors, the State Department could not conclusively establish that Germany was responsible for the sinking. Even though few people outside of Germany doubted that a U-boat had sunk Athenia, the recovery of damages would have to wait until after the war.

America’s neutrality was the result of strong isolationist sentiment in the halls of Congress and reflected the attitude held by many in the general public. Much of this sentiment carried over from World War I in the belief that the U.S. had been duped into helping England and France supposedly to make the world safe for democracy.

Entry into the war in 1917 eventually cost the lives of 53,000 American soldiers. Millions of dollars in loans made to allies during and after the war had not been repaid. These events had left a bitter taste in the mouths of many Americans. With Europeans once again going to war to settle their differences, isolationists contended this simply wasn’t America’s fight.

To be sure, many Americans, including President Franklin Roosevelt, felt strongly that the U.S. could not afford to ignore events in Europe and that the country should come to Britain’s aid. The president knew, however, that isolationist sentiment was too strong for him to expect Congress to support a declaration of war against Germany for the deaths of Americans aboard Athenia.

It wasn’t until two years later, when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, that America was galvanized into action. By then, however, few Americans remembered that 30 of their fellow citizens had died Sept. 3, 1939, on the first day of the war.

Next month: The “rules of war” 

Karl Doenitz (top row, left, in sunglasses) listens to testimony at the Nuremberg trials following WWII. Photo credit: Newsmax.com

Why Don’t We Remember Athenia? Part 3

Throughout World War II, Germany’s Nazi government denied responsibility for sinking the British passenger ship Athenia on the first day of the war. Their denial initially hinged on the fact that no U-boat had reported any action at the time and place where Athenia had been sunk (see blog, Jan. 1, 2019).

Even after the commander of the U-boat that torpedoed Athenia, Fritz-Julius Lemp, returned two weeks later to his base in Germany and admitted his mistake, the denials continued. German Chancellor Adolf Hitler is reported to have made the decision to continue the lie rather than reverse the denials of the previous two weeks.

While few outside of Germany believed the Nazi position, the continued denials raised vague concerns in some people’s minds that perhaps their might have been some other reason for the sinking.

In 1946, as prosecutors prepared for the war crimes trials at Nuremberg following World War II, they discovered discrepancies in the war diary (logbook) of U-30, the German submarine whose combat patrol zone included the location where Athenia was attacked. The first two pages were a different quality paper than the rest of the book. On these pages the months were recorded in Arabic numerals, while Roman numerals were used for the months in the rest of the book. Also, Lemp’s signature was an obvious forgery. The new pages showed U-30 nearly 100 miles from the spot where Athenia was torpedoed Sept. 3, 1939. The alteration was part of an elaborate, if clumsy, subterfuge started within 24 hours of Athenia’s sinking to convince the world that Germany wasn’t at fault.

The suspicious war diary wasn’t the only damning evidence to come to light. A German sailor who was aboard U-30 on that fateful evening and saw the sinking Athenia, had been taken prisoner during the war. With the war now over, the sailor no longer felt bound to maintain the defeated Nazi’s subterfuge, and he testified to what he had seen.

During a deposition prior to trial proceedings, Karl Dӧnitz, the former German submarine fleet commander and later Grand Admiral of the Navy, was confronted with the evidence. He readily confirmed that U-30 had sunk Athenia on the first day of the war.

His admission was only a stepping stone for the prosecutors, who wanted to show Dӧnitz was an unrepentant Nazi, guilty of far worse crimes than covering up the sinking of a passenger ship. By then, the world was learning of the horrors of Nazi death camps and the cold-blooded execution of millions of Jews and others deemed undesirable by the self-proclaimed master race.

Against this ghastly backdrop, the Athenia dead became little more than a footnote to the Nazi’s unspeakable crimes.

In next month’s blog: Why American deaths did not bring the U.S. into the war.