A Lesson From History

Passing through the corridor leading to my cabin, as I clearly have to every day, I stopped at the familiar sight of the glass fronted display case containing; an old black and white photograph of a previous HMS Nottingham; a weather beaten black cap ribbon, its gold letters barely readable; Nottingham ship’s plaque, its distinctive green and red livery well faded, but unmistakeable; and also a rather old and tattered white ensign.  Relics of an old ship stored for the hereafter?  Perhaps nothing too remarkable at first glance, but a small brass plaque displayed inside the cabinet reveals the true story; a story which embodies some of the realities of war but with an even more powerful message.
The fifth HMS Nottingham was in service in April 1914.  Built in Pembroke dockyard, she was a light ‘Birmigham Town Class' cruiser of the British Grand Fleet.  430 feet in length and 5,440 tons, she had a complement of around 400 men.  Distinctive by her four tall funnel stacks, she was indeed an impressive sight and could make 25 knots with ease.  Armed with 9 six-inch guns, 4 three-pounders and one thirteen-pound anti-aircraft gun, she also had 2 twenty-one inch torpedo tubes just below the waterline. In command throughout her war commission was Captain C B Miller Royal Navy. 

Nottingham saw action for the first time off Heligoland in August 1914. As one of 8 British light cruisers supported by destroyers and submarines, she entered the Heligoland Bight to intercept German vessels employed on coastal protection duties.  The ship then saw action in the Yorkshire Raid on 16 December and shortly after that at the Battle of Dogger Bank on 23 January 1915.  On the 31 May came the Battle of Jutland, perhaps one of the largest (and probably most famous) naval battles ever fought.  HMS Nottingham was attached to the Second Light Cruiser Squadron, part of the Jellicoe’s Grand Fleet, which had aimed to wipe out the German High Sea Fleet.   Incidentally, the three Battle Honours for Heligoland, Dogger Bank and Jutland are on the Ship’s dark oaken Battle Honours board, just outside my cabin.
Two and a half months later, both the Grand Fleet and the High Seas Fleet were again at sea.  On 19 August 1916 HMS Nottingham was engaged in a sweep of the North Sea in thick mist. She was approximately 60 nautical miles east of the Farne Islands when without warning, just before 6am, she was hit by two torpedoes from the german submarine U52.  Despite the valiant efforts of HMS Dublin to keep the submarine at bay, Nottingham was struck by a third torpedo approximately 25 minutes later.  As short time later, she sank.  Thirty-eight men were lost, most during the initial torpedo attack which had denied the ship of all power.  By the time the third torpedo had impacted, most of the ship’s company had already been ordered into the ship’s boats by Captain Miller.
Seventy-seven years later, in December 1993, the current HMS Nottingham visited Emden in Germany.  During a ceremony, Admiral Otto H Cilax of the Federal German Navy presented the Commanding Officer with a plaque, cap ribbon and Ensign from the fifth HMS Nottingham as a gesture of goodwill and reconciliation. Admiral Cilax's grandfather had been in command of U52 when it had sunk the ship.  Captain Cilax had recovered these items from one of Nottingham’s boats whilst picking up survivors.
I spent some time searching for the right words to describe my thoughts on this story.  It embraces words like honour and respect: A ‘gentlemanly act’, perhaps.  One could say that this goes some way towards mitigating the actual act of war itself.  Perhaps hard to consider, but it does so in such a unique way.