The HMS Hood and Prince of Wales
plow toward the Bismarck, and destiny. This episode
is sponsored by Wargaming. Download World of Warships and use
the code EXTRA 1 for free goodies. Link in the description. When we left off,
the British had finally located the battleship Bismarck
and heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen as they steamed south
through the Denmark Strait. With Admiral Tovey and the rest of the
Home Fleet still hundreds of miles away, it was clear that the Hood, pride of
the Royal Navy, and Prince of Wales were the only ones
that could possibly stop the behemoth. But to understand what’s about
to happen, we need to understand the state of the Royal Navy in 1941, and how interwar limitations
held back their naval development. Let me turn things over to Wargaming’s
historical consultant Richard Cutland: Following World War I,
a series of maritime treaties constrained naval development in hopes
of defusing an international arms race. At first these treaties
limited the number of new ships and set limits on the size and armament
of new vessels. Later agreements eliminated the possibility
of building new battleships completely. As a result,
in the interwar period Britain was forced to modernize old ships
instead of building new ones. For example, the HMS Hood looked
strong enough to any outside observer, but the British Admiralty
was well aware of its main drawback, a weak horizontal defence, especially
at Deck 25, which was only 76mm thick. Plans to strengthen the horizontal
armour had been developed in 1927, but these works were
postponed due to financial problems. In the end, they never happened at all.
This made the ship vulnerable to long-range "plunging fire"
that fell directly down on its deck. These treaties also constrained
new battleships, like Prince of Wales, to quite conservative designs. Their armament consisted of two
four-gun turrets, and one two-gun turret, all in a 14-inch calibre
that complied with treaty limitations. Meanwhile, Germany
was quietly violating these treaties with ships like Bismarck
that had 15-inch guns, so even though Prince of Wales was brand
new, it was underpowered at launch. In addition, the brand new
Prince of Wales had teething problems. Sea trials revealed that
her revolutionary quadruple-gun turrets were prone to break down under strain, and this problem hadn’t yet been fixed
when she deployed with Hood. However, Prince of Wales was more
technologically advanced than the Hood, particularly since she had
modern rangefinders, and crucially, both Hood
and Prince of Wales were fast, and speed was what the Royal Navy
needed in an interception force. Back to you Dan. Thank you, Mr Cutland!
So that’s the situation. The capable, but vulnerable Hood
and untested Prince of Wales are about to take on the largest
and most modern warships on Earth. 24th of May.
05:37 hours. The Denmark Strait. Our British sailors
have gotten little sleep, knowing that they would intercept
the Bismarck at dawn. On the Prince of Wales,
civilian contractors have worked through the night
repairing its turret guns, whose hydraulic systems are acting up. Most of the Prince of Wales crew
are fresh recruits, and they’re nervous, but the presence of the Hood
stills their jitters. Just then, a lookout on Hood sees smoke on the horizon:
the Bismarck and the Prinz Eugen. Admiral Holland sends a cyphered
message to the rest of the fleet: FROM HOOD
ENEMY IN SIGHT AM ENGAGING. But Holland’s running
almost parallel to the enemy, the four ships converging slowly
as they head southwest. That’s no good. Not only does he need to
get between Bismarck and the Atlantic, but the Hood’s thin deck armour
will be vulnerable to plunging fire unless he gets within 9 miles. By cutting a path
directly toward the Germans, he’ll close the distance as fast
as possible and be harder to hit, but it will also halve his firepower
since his rear turrets can’t join the fight. But there’s nothing for it.
The Bismarck could still evade. Holland turns to an interception course
and orders "full speed ahead". At 05:52 hours Holland orders
Prince of Wales to target the lead ship. But the gunnery officer
on the Prince of Wales, working with more modern optics,
makes a startling realization: the Hood has targeted the wrong ship. Bismarck and Prinz Eugen
have similar silhouettes, and the Germans
have defied convention by sending
the lighter-armoured heavy cruiser first. He tries to communicate this
to the Hood, but it’s too late. The Hood opens fire, wreathing
the vessel in dirty brown smoke. Seeing this, the desperate
gunnery officer defies Hood’s order, targets the Bismarck, and fires. On both ships the gunnery officers
look at their watches, waiting. Fifty seconds later, pillars of water
leap up in front of the German ships, the salvos fall short. Worse still, one of the guns in
Prince of Wales’ B-Turret malfunctions, taking it out of the action.
Both ships are re-adjusting their aim when flashes of light
run up and down the German ships. A long-range artillery duel has begun. Two minutes later,
a shell from Prinz Eugen crashes into the Hood’s upper deck,
detonating an ammunition locker. It burns with pink flames, anti-aircraft shells cooking off
in bunches like firecrackers. On the Hood’s bridge, the crew can hear
the screams of their burning shipmates coming through the voice pipes. Admiral Holland keeps calm, but then, huge columns of water
leap into the air ahead of the bow, and he finally realizes that he’s
been shooting at the wrong ship. He hastily sends the order to re-target
the Bismarck and orders a turn to port in order to bring his aft turrets to bear. It will expose him side-on
with the enemy, but, with luck, the Hood’s turn
will pass just inside the 9-mile mark and shield him from plunging fire. The turn comes just in time,
Bismarck’s next salvo thunders down right where the Hood had been headed. With all fire concentrated on Hood, Prince of Wales has been free
to get range on the Bismarck, and scores at least one hit. But her intricate four-gun turrets
aren’t holding up to the strain, and every few salvos
another gun goes out of action. It follows Hood into the turn,
facing the German ships side-on. A salvo from Bismarck
brackets the Hood, shells landing
on either side of the vessel. The Prince of Wales’ commander,
Captain Leach, knows that once a ship is bracketed,
the enemy has you. He sees the Bismarck’s guns
flash in double-time, and trains his binoculars
on the Hood to see the result. A shell plunges down on Hood’s deck,
just aft of the mainmast, and disappears. Two seconds later, the middle of
the Hood erupts like a Roman candle, spraying flames
hundreds of feet in the air. As Leach looks on, horrified, a colossal
explosion tears the ship in two, the stern rising up out of the water as the bow sails forward
under its own momentum. Yellow smoke blankets the carnage. In all the smoke, the Hood’s bridge crew don’t know
where they’ve been hit or how badly. Bodies begin raining down on the bridge, thumping off the roof
and landing on the wings. From below, the helmsman
reports through a voice pipe that the steering isn’t answering.
The ship begins to list, first to port, then capsizing 45 degrees to starboard. There’s no need for an evacuation order. The crew lines up single-file
at the port-side hatch, waiting their turn to scramble out. The squadron’s navigating officer
stands aside, letting junior seamen go first.
One crewman glances back. He sees Admiral Holland
still sitting in his command chair, going down with his ship. Seconds later,
the sailor steps off the Hood and into the freezing water
of the Denmark Strait. Above him, he sees the majestic lines
of the Hood, sinking in a V formation. A-Turret fires a last defiant salvo
before it slips into the water. And then, the suction pulls him under. On the Prince of Wales, Captain Leach
orders an evasive manoeuvre to avoid colliding
with Hood’s rapidly-sinking stern. It disappears underwater as they pass. Nothing remains of the Royal Navy’s
largest and most famous ship except a burning debris field. It is now one malfunctioning ship
against two, and Leach has sailed
right into the Hood’s former position, the Germans
barely have to adjust their rangefinders. But just then, a salvo from
Prince of Wales straddles Bismarck. Leach nods approval. Now that Prince of
Wales has the correct range she can… BANG.
One compartment below the bridge, the navigation officer
hears a crash above him. He shouts into the voice pipe,
asking if everything’s alright. At first there’s no answer, and then a stream of blood
dribbles out, staining his charts. Leach gets unsteadily to his feet. One of
the Bismarck’s shells has hit the bridge and passed through without exploding. His entire bridge crew lies dead,
except for two wounded officers. For three hellish minutes,
shells pound the Prince of Wales. The armour belt takes multiple hits.
The boat deck catches fire. In one of the turret magazines, a shell
punches through the deck and lands, still live, next to a sailor’s foot. The magazine crew is told to hang
onto it until ordinance disposal arrives, but they’re not waiting. They lift the shell up out of the turret
and gingerly carry it across the deck amid a full-scale battle. With a sigh
of relief, they pitch it over the side. Captain Leach
knows he’s been outfought. He turns to withdraw,
making smoke to cover his retreat. The Bismarck,
curiously, does not follow. Keeping well out of range, Leach brings
the mauled Prince of Wales around to join the cruisers
shadowing Bismarck. He signals the Admiralty:
HOOD HAS BLOWN UP. One hour after the Hood’s sinking,
a destroyer arrives to look for survivors. On deck, they have rafts, lifebelts
and blankets lined up and ready. The medical crew
is prepared to treat hundreds. Instead, they pull three
oil-slicked survivors out of the water. Three. Out of a crew of 1,418. 10:22 hours.
The Admiralty. Faces are grim
in the Admiralty’s war room, 200 feet below the streets of London. The shock of losing the Hood is compounded by the knowledge that
German battleships were now in position to prey on vital convoys. But as the news settles in, bleak horror
gives way to determined rage. The phone rings.
It’s Prime Minister Churchill with a personal order for every able ship
in the Atlantic. It's direct and to the point. Admiralty cypher officers
broadcast the order wide: The aircraft carrier Ark Royal
receives the signal at Gibraltar, and begins to unpack
its torpedo bombers. Tovey’s Home Fleet
receives the message, as they race to join
the stricken Prince of Wales. The battleship Rodney,
headed for a refit in Boston, gets the signal and slowly turns
its 16-inch guns back toward Europe. The airwaves are thick
with this one message: SINK THE BISMARCK. SINK THE
BISMARCK. SINK THE BISMARCK.
Just out of curiosity, does anybody know what sort of shell they dumped overboard? Obviously not a 15" Bismarck shell (800kg), but even a 203mm shell from the Prinz Eugen at 121kg seems
unlikelyheavy but manageable for two sailors.Edit: apparently I have no idea how much 60kgs is...
Sink the Bismarck, sink the Bismarck...