In a lonely parish church situated in the Lake District, there is a stained glass window that commemorates one of the least known incidents of World War Two. The incident occurred on the 8th June 1940 when the aircraft carrier HMS Glorious and her two escorting destroyers HMS Acasta and HMS Ardent, were sunk by the German battle cruisers Gneisenau and Scharnhorst in the Norwegian Sea.
It was a very alert seaman, on watch on the Scharnhorst, who first sighted smoke just after 16 00 hours. Scharnhorst and her sister ship Gneisenau were patrolling off the coast of Norway hoping to intercept Allied convoys evacuating troops after the disastrous Allied campaign in Norway. The German ships turned towards this sighting and soon recognised the unmistakable profile of aircraft carrier HMS Glorious, escorted by two destroyers steaming west.
In a short gun action lasting just over an hour, all three British ships were sunk. Several hundred men survived on rafts and floats, but in the Arctic cold and without food or water, many died of their wounds and of exposure. When rescue finally came three days later, there were only thirty-nine survivors from Glorious and one each from Acasta and Ardent. More than one thousand five hundred officers and men of the Royal Navy, Royal Marines, and Royal Air Force were lost, including highly trained RAF pilots who had gallantly flown their Hurricanes and Gladiators on board the previous evening rather than abandon their aircraft in Norway.
In 1940, the exact circumstances of this tragedy were shrouded in wartime security, but, even after the war, the official explanation left questions which puzzled historians, politicians and the families of those who had died.
Why had the Glorious left the main troop convoy to proceed independently? Why was she not flying a reconnaissance patrol for her own safety? Why did British Intelligence give no warning that the German battle cruisers were at sea? Why were the survivors not found for three days?
The severely embarrassed British Admiralty ordered that the official report should be closed for one hundred years, but pressure from families and relatives led to some earlier releases.
HMS Glorious was the second of the Courageous-class cruisers built for the Royal Navy during World War One. Glorious was completed in 1916 and spent the rest of the war patrolling the North Sea and was present when the German High Seas Fleet surrendered at Scapa Flow. After World War One, the Washington Naval Treaty of 1922 compelled the Royal Navy to scrap many of her older ships. However, some could be converted into aircraft carriers, and the Courageous-class ships with a combination of a large hull and high speed made them ideal candidates for conversion. Glorious was re-commissioned as an aircraft carrier on February 1930 and could carry up to 48 aircraft.
On the outbreak of World War Two, Glorious was serving with the Mediterranean Fleet. Later in November 1939 she moved through the Suez Canal into the Indian Ocean where she became part of the task force that was organised to hunt for the German pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spee. Then in April 1940 she joined the Home Fleet to provide air cover for British forces in Norway.
Glorious and Ark Royal sailed several times between Scapa Flow and Norway to ferry aircraft to shore bases in Norway. But, when Hitler launched his blitzkrieg in the west, Allied troops and aircraft were needed to counter the threat, and ordered to evacuate from Norway. Glorious arrived off the coast to provide air support and take on board land based aircraft. Gladiators and Hurricanes were flown aboard during the afternoon of 7th June.
The Hurricanes had a much higher landing speed than the biplanes, and the pilots showed great skill in performing this feat without loss. Particularly, as this was the first time that high speed monoplanes without arrester hooks had landed on an aircraft carrier.
Meantime, Norway’s King Haakon together with his family and government were rescued and taken aboard the cruiser HMS Devonshire. The commander Admiral Cunningham was under strict orders to maintain radio silence. This was to have serious implications for the Glorious.
The Germans now tried to cut off the Norwegian evacuation, and on 8th June the battle cruisers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau approached, intending to intercept a troop convoy carrying ten thousand men. Their attention was, however, diverted when Glorious and her escorting destroyers Ardent and Acasta appeared on the horizon.
Ark Royal and Glorious were originally to have sailed together in convoy to provide air cover. But in the early hours of that morning, the captain of Glorious requested permission to proceed independently to Scapa Flow. The request was approved and Glorious and her two destroyers parted company from Ark Royal and the main convoy. Unfortunately she was sent right into the jaws of the enemy.
The commander of Glorious, Captain D'Oyly-Hughes was a former submariner and almost totally lacked knowledge of naval aerial warfare. Therefore, he did not believe in the necessity for aerial reconnaissance. He failed to grasp that the security of carriers depended on continual spotter plane observation. This would have given the ship visibility on a clear day of about 60 miles; thus allowing her to avoid interception and give warning long before the enemy could have threatened.
D'Oyly-Hughes wrongly assumed that the carrier was in no danger and did not exercise adequate measures to protect his ships from unexpected attack. He was a hot-blooded man who had in prewar years, declared that given the chance he would take on a battleship with only the guns on his carrier. How he would achieve this with his 4.7 inch guns against a battleships 15 inch guns is questionable.
D'Oyly-Hughes frequently feuded with, and rejected the advice of, experienced airmen; refusing their urging to fly any reconnaissance or to form a Combat Air Patrol around the carrier and escorts. Therefore, no fighters or torpedo bombers were made ready for action, which is in total disregard of Fleet Air Arm doctrine. Being virtually defenceless, Glorious was an easy target for the tragedy that was about to unfold. Had aircraft been launched to give advance warning, Glorious certainly would have been able to spot incoming surface threats, and decide whether to run or fight.
But, by keeping the aircraft on deck and in the hangars, the captain denied himself these options. At the very least, Glorious should have been prepared to launch aircraft on short notice once German ships were detected; especially when neither of her escort destroyers were fitted with radar and the carrier had no lookout in her crow’s nest.
Furthermore, British Intelligence at Bletchley Park had warned the Admiralty that wireless intercepts indicated that German heavy units were moving north into Norwegian waters. In one of the greatest blunders of the war, which resulted in a terrible loss of life, no alert signal was sent to the fleet. Surely, the broadcasting of a warning should have been of the highest priority!
Receipt of this information would have led naval command to deny Glorious' request to leave independently to Scapa Flow. However, by this stage of the Norwegian fiasco, the Admiralty had been lulled into a dangerous sense of complacency. The carriers Ark Royal, Furious, and Glorious had repeatedly made the 2 000 mile return trip to Norway with only a two destroyer escort. It would appear that the Admiralty took the safety of these valuable and vulnerable ships for granted.
In view of the important role played by aircraft carriers in World War Two, it is a deplorable fact that, almost to the last, the Royal Navy found itself shorter of these ships than of those of any other category. Yet, at the start of the war, it possessed five large carriers, HMS Ark Royal, Furious, Courageous, Glorious and Eagle; all having a speed of thirty knots or more.
Unfortunately, the Courageous was lost while on anti-submarine patrol in the Western Approaches, only a fortnight after war had been declared. It is the view of many naval air specialists that this exceptionally valuable ship had been thrown away through being assigned to duties she was unsuited for. It might have been imagined that after this, the utmost care would have been taken to provide adequate escort for any other large carrier force.
Shortly after 16 00 hours on 8th June 1940, the enemy battle cruisers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau were sighted and action stations sounded. On Glorious, belated attempts were made to get some of her aircraft ready for action. The Scharnhorst and Gneisenau both increased to full speed and opened fire at maximum range. Glorious would have had a better chance to escape by steaming directly downwind and away from the German ships. This would have made launching aircraft more difficult, though not impossible.
Although Glorious had no speed advantage over the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau; the decision to remain at reduced speed and on course was both unwise and inept. Desperately, the destroyer escorts tried to conceal the carrier in a smoke screen, which was quite effective and forced the Germans to temporarily cease firing. But the Germans had Glorious within range and bearing with their 11 inch main armament. The British ships were out gunned and out ranged; it was hardly a contest.
Glorious was hit by Scharnhorst's third salvo at the extreme range of 15 miles, one of the longest range hits ever recorded. The Ardent and Acasta steamed gallantly towards the enemy to attack. Acasta managed one hit from her 4.7-inch guns on Scharnhorst, but was riddled by German gunfire. Ardent also managed to hit the Scharnhorst but received multiple hits from the 5.9 inch secondary armament and sank.
Glorious received another hit in the centre engine room just after the Germans had recommenced firing. This shook the whole ship, caused a loss of speed and a starboard list. Glorious had commenced transmitting contact reports shortly after sighting the enemy and continued until the wireless station was disabled at about 17 20 hours. The flight deck of Glorious was penetrated, starting a large fire, and a further hit killed most of the bridge crew. Soon after this, the order was given to abandon ship, and she sank with a heavy list to starboard 17 40 hours.
Acasta proved to be a tough opponent for the German battle cruisers. Besides laying smoke to protect Glorious and making repeated torpedo and gun attacks; she scored several gun hits on Scharnhorst, causing damage to the much larger German vessel. Whilst Acasta was mortally wounded and sinking, Leading Seaman Carter, manning a torpedo tube, was determined to hit back. Though he had been knocked out briefly when a shell hit Acasta's engine room; Carter scrambled back into the control seat and fired the remaining torpedoes.
One of his torpedoes struck Scharnhorst aft, killing forty eight men and disabled the rear turret. Two of her engine rooms were flooded, which reduced Scharnhorst’s speed to twenty knots. Carter jumped over Acasta's side and was picked up; he was the ships sole survivor. Acasta was finally sunk after about two hours of fighting; the battle flag of the Gneisenau was lowered to half-mast and her crew brought to attention to honour the brave fight of Acasta and her crew. The damage to the German vessels inflicted by Ardent and Acasta caused them to retire to Trondheim, allowing the safe passage of convoys evacuating troops from Norway.
Regardless of the heroism, British destroyer tactics are questionable. A coordinated attack by two destroyers would have been more effective than individual attacks. Nevertheless, a terrible ordeal was suffered by the pitifully few survivors of Glorious, Ardent, and Acasta. Although many of her crew survived to abandon the ship, communication errors meant the British were initially unaware of the sinking and the men were left for three days to die in the water.
Estimates place the number of crew from Ardent, Acasta and Glorious lost to exposure, rather than direct enemy action, at approximately eight hundred. As a result of the action, one thousand five hundred and nineteen British servicemen were killed, the greatest military loss of life for Britain up to that time in the war. Apart from the fact that aircraft carriers were extremely precious, the loss of the Glorious must be accounted as a sad waste of the lives of brave men; most of them highly professional and not easy to replace. The Royal Navy knew nothing of the sinking’s until it was announced on the German propaganda radio.
A Norwegian ship on passage to the Faeroe Islands, picked up some survivors. Another Norwegian ship, also making for the Faeroes, picked up five survivors but was sighted by a German aircraft and forced to return to Norway. Those still alive became prisoners of war for the next five years. It is also believed that one more survivor from Glorious was rescued by a German seaplane.
With regards to the signals confusion; on 8th June the Royal Navy vessels in the Norwegian area had recently updated their signal frequencies. It is claimed that Glorious had not received information that she was to adjust her airway signaling to a different frequency. But at 16 50 hours, Gneisenau heard Glorious transmitting a sighting of the German ships.
There is no record of the escort destroyers sending any enemy report at all. This is inexplicable. Any suggestion that the destroyers assumed that Glorious had made the necessary reports can hardly be accepted. The destroyer Glowworm, sunk after an unexpected encounter with the German cruiser Hipper the previous April, continued to send transmissions until her radio equipment was disabled.
Another disturbing factor is that D'Oyly-Hughes was granted permission to proceed independently to Scapa Flow on the basis that he was low on fuel; but this was later established to be incorrect. The real reason was that a disagreement had earlier occurred between D'Oyly-Hughes and his Air Commander Heath. Heath had refused an order to carry out an attack against shore targets on the grounds that his aircraft were unsuited to the task, and the target had not been confirmed. Heath argued this was a complete misuse of naval aircraft. D'Oyly-Hughes had Heath placed under house arrest at Scapa Flow awaiting court martial, now he wished to return to attend the hearing rather than wait for the main convoy. His haste to leave the safety of the convoy to get back to port quickly to prepare and carry out the courts martial meant he condemned himself, his ships, and crews to death.
In the aftermath of battle, despite this notable German success, damage from the torpedo attacks forced Scharnhorst to return to Trondheim for emergency repairs. When later escorting Scharnhorst back to Germany, Gneisenau was torpedoed by the British submarine Clyde and it was not until 23rd June that she was able to reach the dry dock at Kiel. On 13th June, Fleet Air Arm Blackburn Skua bombers from Ark Royal attacked Scharnhorst in harbour. Only a single bomb struck her. But, she remained there under repair until the end of 1940
Curiously, neither side seems to have been satisfied with the outcome of the Glorious action. The Royal Navy had, of course, suffered a humiliating defeat. The disaster and the failure to mount an effective rescue was clearly a dismal failure on the part of the Royal Navy. However, upon his return to Trondheim, Admiral Marschall, the German commander, was relieved of his command. He had disobeyed specific orders; that is, to attack merchant shipping, and convoys in particular, not to endanger his ships, by attacking an aircraft carrier and warships.
It later became known that the heavy cruiser HMS Devonshire had passed within 40 miles of the action. Devonshire was flying the flag of Vice Admiral John Cunningham, who was carrying out his orders to maintain radio silence whilst evacuating the Norwegian Royal Family to the UK. Some surviving eyewitnesses from Glorious and Devonshire later testified that the sighting report had been received by the Devonshire. But, that it had been suppressed by Cunningham, who departed at high speed in accordance with his orders, in full knowledge that Glorious would be sunk.
While under strict instructions not to break radio silence there is controversy over whether he received a distress call from the Glorious which was under heavy attack. If the message was not received, then why did he go to action stations at 16 25 hours and why was the original log book conveniently lost? In addition, eyewitnesses from Devonshire are adamant that Cunningham took steps to suppress the sighting signal.
Admiral John Cunningham should not be confused with Admiral Andrew Cunningham of Taranto fame.
They are not related.
With regards to the confusion over the use of wireless telegraphy frequencies on board Glorious; this may have contributed to the failure of other ships or shore-station receiving a sighting report. However, what is certain is that the absence of normal airborne patrols over Glorious and its attendant destroyers, in conditions of maximum visibility was most certainly a contributory factor to the disaster.
For the Admiralty, it was a chapter of muddle and confusion, all the more tragic when weighed against the gallantry of individual fighting men. Complacency led to a lack of any adequate heavy covering force.
In the first four weeks of the Norwegian campaign almost the whole of Royal Navy strength in home waters was engaged in escorting and carrying troops to and from Norway. This was done with such efficiency that not a single soldier out of the thousands transported lost his life as the result of submarine or surface ship attack. However, the majority of available Royal Navy destroyers were either sunk or put out of action in these operations. Obviously, too, the threat of an enemy invasion attempt on the homeland could not be ignored, thus, imposing a further burden.
It was in these circumstances that plans had to be prepared for the evacuation of Northern Norway. It was arranged that the forces should sail in four groups of convoys. So, when the Scharnhorst, Gneisenau, and four destroyers arrived on the convoy route on the night of 7/8th June, there were all the elements of impending tragedy. And tragedy, there indeed was.
In 1997, the BBC screened a documentary in its Secret History series entitled ‘The Tragedy of HMS Glorious’. One of the survivors was interviewed. He had been a senior telegraphist on Glorious who spoke with conviction that he certainly did send out a signal of the attack and relayed her position accurately. This went unheeded, particularly by Admiral Cunningham, who later denied ever receiving any signal.
To try and reach a balance in this debate, firstly, on the evidence available, it appears more than likely that he deliberately abandoned the survivors, assuming he thought there might be any, to their fate. Secondly, that he deliberately suppressed the truth about signals which reached his ship about the fact that HMS Glorious was about to come under attack by the two German battle cruisers.
What is not made clear is that had Cunningham's cruiser gone to the aid of Glorious while the Germans were still in the vicinity, he would almost certainly have been sunk. This would have resulted in the loss of his precious cargo, e.g., the entire Norwegian royal family and the whole of the Norwegian Government which had chosen to fight on in Britain rather than to submit to the Germans. The moral effect of such a disaster would have made the loss of Glorious pale almost into insignificance. Had he neglected his primary duty to rescue the Norwegians, he would most assuredly have ended his career in disgrace.
This raises the issue of duplicity of which he has been accused. But, if the truth is that Cunningham deliberately chose to place the threat to the Norwegians ahead of any survivors of the Glorious; then one must consider the after-effects on Anglo-Norwegian relations if this knowledge had leaked out. The subsequent history of Anglo-Norwegian relations for the duration of the war (and afterwards) has been an enduringly positive one. Recalled and demonstrated each year as the Norwegians continue to make a gesture of remembrance in supplying the huge Christmas tree which is placed in the centre of Trafalgar Square.
Thus ended the Norwegian adventure with absolutely nothing achieved. Norway was in German hands, Hitler was assured of his iron ore and had won naval and air bases from which to operate against Britain. A brilliant reward for a daring and imaginative campaign; a campaign notable on the one side for the ruthless efficiency of the forcible occupation of a strictly neutral country; and the bold acceptance of a calculated risk of disaster to a fleet in the face of greatly superior force.
On the other for an amateurish lack of understanding of the effect of aerial domination upon an amphibious expedition and the failure through vacillation to use the sea power available to make an enemy pay the full price for his defiance of it.
The Phoney War had ended as Hitler's panzers rolled across France and Belgium, driving most of the British Army and a large part of the French into a coastal bridgehead at Dunkirk by 26th May 1940. But that is another story.
As a footnote; The Glorious is the only Royal Navy aircraft carrier to be sunk in World War Two in a surface action. No court martial was ever conducted for Heath, but he was kept out of the way for the duration of the war.
Both British destroyer captains were recommended for the VC. But this was refused, perhaps as part of the cover up. Instead they were briefly mentioned in despatches. The Admiralty never acknowledged the bravery of the crews, but the Germans were full of praise.