Standing Well Back
1870-1880

Mechanical Sabotage Devices

This is an interesting news report I found.  It discusses some clever mechanical devices used to sabotage ships. The devices are secreted inside the ship, against the hull, and utilise the movement of a ship through the waves to steadily and slowly bore or cut a hole in the hull. This report from about 1876 was repeated in some other newspapers at the time, in identical reports referring to the Bremerhaven attack  and provided as context for other types of attacks on ships.  However, I have dug away and not found any other details of such devices. Really this single report. Intriguing. The explanations are not entirely clear, I’m afraid.

1940-1950

The Nazis and Copernicus

One of the nice things about this blog is that I don’t have to stick rigorously to its stated subject.  In the previous post I examined some of the explosive devices used by the Polish Resistance in Warsaw.  During that research I came across this story which is simply worth retelling.

The Polish resistance was not without its sense of humour, and the occupying German forces… well lets just say they were German and not renowned for the perspective humour offers.   In the heart of Warsaw stood a large statue of the astronomer Copernicus. Copernicus lived when the Kingdom of Poland was part of Prussia so both the Poles and the Germans had claims to him.  At the base of the monument was a plaque with the inscription ” To Copernicus, from his countrymen”.  The German authorities, on occupying Warsaw, removed the plaque and replaced it with another that read “To the Great German Astronomer”.  The statue was in a square right outside a German police station.

One day a group of workmen, seemingly from the city council, arrived and began to work on the base of the statue, unnoticed. They removed the German plaque. It was actually a group led by Polish resistance fighter Maciej Aleksy Dawidowski.   It was 10 days before the authorities noticed their plaque had gone missing. The German commander, Governor Fischer was outraged.  This is his picture – he looks pretty much like the proto-typical Nazi war criminal that he was doesn’t he?

Fischer issued a proclamation below:

A translation is something like this:

“On 11th or 12th February 1942 criminal elements removed the tablet from the Copernicus Monument for political reasons. As a reprisal, I order the removal of the Kilinski monument. At the same time I give full warning that should similar acts be perpetrated I shall order the suspension of all food rations for the Polish population of Warsaw for the term of one week”

Now, Jan Kilinski was another popular historical figure in Warsaw, a shoemaker who led the fight against the Russians in a siege of Warsaw in 1794.  His statue was indeed removed by the Nazis and stored in the vaults of the National Museum.   By the following morning someone had painted in very large letters on the side of the Museum

“People of Warsaw, I am in here! Signed Jan Kilinski”

A week later, all of Fischer’s proclamations were over pasted with another announcement, printed in the same style. This proclamation read:

“Recently criminal elements removed the Kilinski monument for political reasons. As a reprisal, I order the prolongation of winter on the Eastern Front front for the term of two months.  

Signed Nicholas Copernicus”

Now as it happened the winter of 1942 was indeed long and hard for the Germans on the Eastern Front.   Fischer was tried for war crimes and hung in 1947. Dawidowski died very bravely in 1943 in an attempt to rescue fellow partisans from jail.

 

 

1840-1850

The Death of Tommy Atkins

There’s been discussion on the letters pages of “The Times” about the origins of the “Tommy Atkins” reference – the standard typical British soldier with all the phlegmatic character so well described by Kipling. Well, it turns out that Kipling didn’t “invent” the name out of the blue, and the history of Tommy Atkins as a real person is moving, dramatic and a little older.

In 1843, The Duke of Wellington, a national hero, former Prime Minister and Victor of Waterloo was a “Minister without Portfolio”. He was an elderly man of 73 and the Grand Old Man of the British establishment. The previous year he had been re-appointed as Commander in Chief of the Army.


The Duke of Wellington, aged 74

Officers on the Army Staff came to show him a new piece of bureaucracy – a form that soldiers had to sign to claim their allowances. They wanted to create a “typical entry” as a guide for soldiers entering their details. The discussion turned to the name that the guide should use as its example, and they asked the old General his opinion.

Wellington sat back and thought. He recalled one of his earlier campaigns, in the Low Countries in 1793. After a battle he had come across a gravely wounded solider, lying on the ground. That soldier had served in the Grenadiers for 20 years, could neither read nor write, but was the “best Man-at-Arms in the Regiment”. His name was Thomas Atkins.  Atkins was severely wounded, and had begged the stretcher bearers to leave him be, so that he could die in peace.  Looking up and seeing the Duke’s concern, the man uttered his last words. “It’s all right, Sir. It’s all in a day’s work.”

Wellington still remembered that experience, 50 years later, and so the name on the form and for every British soldier since became “Thomas Atkins”.

20th Century

Sausage Cohen – Four Wars and a lifetime of Crowded Hours

Sos Cohen is another of those men from history and whichever way you look at it his story is pretty remarkable.  “Sos” is an abbreviation of his nickname “Sausage”.   Lionel Frederick William Cohen was born in 1875 in Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  At the age of about 14 he ran away from home and joined the Royal Marines Light Infantry. (That was his first military engagement.)  Eventually he was tracked down by his horrified family who insisted on buying him out and bringing him home.

His family then sent him to work as a clerk for an uncle in Johannesburg. He was bored by that, ran off, and at the age of 17 became a guard for a mining company.  Seeking adventure he then joined as a volunteer in the campaign against the Matabele, (his first war) with the now historical figures of Selous and Jamieson.  He took part in the Battle of the Shangani River in 1893 where he fought with fixed bayonets.   After other adventures in Africa he then became involved in the Boer War  in 1899 (War Number 2), where he worked as a undercover special force commander in Mozambique preventing arms being delivered to the Boers, reporting via the Mozambique authorities to his British controllers.

When that war ended he returned to civilian life and had more adventures.   When World War 1 (his third war) began he joined the 1st South African Horse as a 2nd Lieutenant.   He fought in German East Africa. At one point he and a single troop captured 430 of the enemy.  After this, now promoted to a “special service” Captain he took his troop behind enemy lines on intelligence missions. In 1916 he was attached to the Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS) as an airborne observer. He was involved in several skirmishes and crashes. In 1917 he formally joined the British Field Intelligence Force, again working behind enemy lines.  He ended the war as a major, with an MC and a DSO  and was mentioned in despatches three times.

By 1937 he was living in England and played a key role in setting up the RAF Volunteer reserve. He was commissioned into the RAF as a Pilot officer in 1939, aged 64. WW2 being his fourth war and at least his fourth service.  He served was a liaison officer from RAF costal command with the Royal Navy.  In this role he flew 70 operational missions as an observer or air gunner.  He reached the rank of Wing Commander and took part in bombing action against the Scharnhorst over the port of Brest in 1941, and other missions that sunk U-boats.  As a senior officer on liaison he was not meant to fly , but insisted on it. He received the DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross) in 1944, his 70th year.  He was mentioned in despatches twice more.  He died in 1960 aged 85.

I have omitted a lot of his adventures outside of the services, which are equally extraordinary. You can read about them in his biography “Crowded hours”

20th Century

The joy of Col AD Wintle MC

Some people ask me why I intersperse my blog with odd tales of military eccentrics.  At this link is a reason why. I posted an article some time ago about one of these characters, Col AD “Freddie” Wintle MC.  This audio archive is 16 minutes of utter, complete joy, full of the most outrageous quotes.  Enjoy it.

Wintle is recorded in 1962 as a guest on Desert Island Disks. He’s asked “Have you ever been on a remote desert island?” and he answers “Not if you don’t count Ireland”.

He’s asked what luxury he’d like to take to the Desert Island , and he says he’d like to take a dog whip, “In case any Germans landed”.  You will laugh too about the end of his hunger strike.

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