US Army Deployed Railroad VBIED

In a number of previous posts I have discussed the use of railways to deliver VBIEDs. These have included:

a. The Provisional IRA attack in 1992 on the Border post using a road vehicle converted to run on rails carrying a large explosive charge.

b. The Soviet partisan attack using a rail vehicle as a VBIED  against Nazi German forces in Ukraine in 1943 (discussed with the one above).

b. The Boer and the British attacks using trains as delivery VBIEDs at Mafeking around 1900.

c. The Boer train VBIED attack on Okiep in 1902.

d.  The Mexican train IEDs 1912/1913.

I’ve now found an attack by the US military in 1944, using an IED with significant similarities to the IRA device of 1992.  It is mentioned in Ian Jones’s excellent book “Malice Aforethought” which anyone finding this blog interesting will find full of useful stuff. Highly recommended.

Here’s an excerpt about the incident:

As the US 6th Armored Division were advancing towards Brest they indulged in a little extra military activity. The 9th Armoured Infantry Battalion purchased a truck which they modified to run remotely along a railway line. The “Doodlebug”, as it was called, was loaded with 750 lbs of captured explosive and fitted with a crude improvised crush switch attached to the front bumper. It was set off one night under its own power at 25 mph to cross the thinly manned front line to intercept a nightly German re-supply train. At about 23:00 hours a terrific explosion was heard from about 3 miles behind the German lines. Unfortunately it never proved possible for the 9th Armored to check the results of their work.

I think the use of IEDs by all sides in WW2 was quite extensive, often forgotten. Mostly these were perhaps “defensive” in nature left behind by withdrawing forces, so this “offensive” ingenious VBIED is something of an exception.  The unusual nature of the device here also makes it difficult to categorise in terms of initiation. Victim operated? Timed? Command? Take your pick.

The Operation Chariot IED

Sometimes doing historical research on IEDs, you get stuck finding out technical detail and the post dies. Just occasionally the subject matter is really interesting and deserves telling anyway – but with some caveats. This is one such incident but there’s a fair bit of speculation from me on some technical matters.  I’m very happy (as always) to be corrected, and happy if more technical details surrounding this incident come out – and then I’ll update.  I’m very grateful for Norman B and Ian J for their valuable inputs on technical matters – there’s no-one who knows more about explosive  devices of this time than these two gentlemen.

I’ve written before about a fascinating historical trend of ship-borne IEDs used in ports on the Northern coast of Europe since the 1580’s – follow the link in the connections on the right hands side of the page to ship-borne IEDs.  One I have mentioned, if only in passing, was the most recent – The St Nazaire Raid – Operation Chariot – that took place in 1942.  This is an interesting story and if some of the details are a little grey, then that’s the way it is.

If you don’t know the story of “the greatest raid” you should google it and get your head around this audacious operation – designed to prevent the Tirpitz from using the Atlantic, by taking out the huge “Normandie” dry dock in the German-held port of St Nazaire.  The characters involved all have individual tales that are quite remarkable, but this is a blog about explosive devices, so I’m going to concentrate on that.    The crucial part of that raid was a large IED hidden deep within the hull of “HMS Campbeltown” which literally was rammed into the gates of the huge dry dock at the St Nazaire Naval Base.

Once the ship was lodged in the gates, the stern of the ship was flooded to prevent the Germans perhaps pulling the ship out from the gates, and so the stern was stuck and the ship, for the time being, was going nowhere.  The occupants of the ship either died in the approach action or fought their way ashore, many of them with missions to blow-up the dry dock infrastructure. Unknown to the German forces though, the fuzes in the ship had been set, and in a few hours the explosive device would indeed detonate to destroy the dry dock gates.  So let’s explore what that device consisted of, and here are the caveats:

  • We can’t be sure exactly how the device was fuzed, because the man who perhaps designed it and who set the fuzes died. Or alternatively the secrecy procedures of the time simply kept it all under wraps and it wasn’t discussed and recorded as we’d hope.
  • Most of my sources, at this stage are not primary sources, so I’m left scrabbling for odd unreferenced mentions relating to the device that I can’t fully confirm. These are open to interpretive filters by those “swinging the lamp”.
  • Some of the limited technical details about the device and its components vary between sources.
  • Even if I had all the facts of the device design some of the reasoning behind the design is going to be open to interpretation anyway.

So, despite all that, here’s what I think may have been the idea. I suspect the design of the device was a collaborative affair. Lt Nigel Tibbits DSC RN was the naval officer detailed by the captain to oversee it, and he probably had the key role in deciding where the main charge was placed, and the concept of its use. I’m unsure as to his level of expertise – some sources describe him as an explosives expert and others that he was the ship’s navigator. I think he was maybe unlikely to be both.  I suspect he had some form of assistance from two Royal Engineer demolition officers who are vaguely referenced, and also I suspect, from the SOE, who provided, perhaps/maybe/probably, some of the fuzes and possibly some ideas regarding concealment of the components.  The device itself seems to have some of the characteristic fingerprints of an SOE sabotage device in terms of its components and its concealment.   I suspect Tibbits came up with the idea of placing the device in the fuel tank, and the demolitions officers placed the charges and initiation system, and the SOE may have provided advice on concealing the initiation system and provided some key components.

Lt Tibbits DSC RN

The main charge was to consist of 24 Mk VII depth charges, each containing 132Kg of Amatol, giving a total of over 3000 kg.   Amatol was a commonly used explosive in the first part of WW2, and in crude terms was a mix of TNT and Ammonium Nitrate. It’s a reasonably stable, quite effective, explosive, better than straight TNT because the “oxygen deficiency” of TNT is made up with Oxygen ions in the Ammonium Nitrate.

To give you an idea of scale, here’s a single Mk VII depth charge being lifted:

 

The remainder of the explosive components used were from a stock probably delivered to the ship before the operation, I think from the SOE and detailed in one report as follows:

  • 10 x 2.5-hour waterproof delays
  • 20 x 2.5-hour pencil delays
  • 10 x underwater initiators for Cordtex leads
  • 20 x 8.5-hour AC delays
  • 20 x Bickford fuses.

I believe that quite significant attempts were made to disguise and conceal the presence of this large device.  On HMS Campbeltown a main fuel tank is located deep in the hull, behind the forward gun, just forward of the bridge super-structure and about 12 feet down under the main deck, under the Petty Officers’ Wardroom. The top part of this fuel tank was sectioned off to create a compartment. Into this the depth charges were placed in 4 columns, front to back, of six each.  The spaces between were then filled with concrete, and a steel lid with (disguised?) access holes placed on top.  I assume that the holes was accessed from the deck of the petty officers wardroom.  I think any reasonable explosives specialist would fit a cordtex ring main around at least the central depth charges if that were possible.

The device was carefully constructed before the operation and I have found the attached photograph of the ship at this time of preparation, in Devonport.

A few things strike me about this photo.  This was taken during the preparation for the operation – additional bolt-on armoured shielding is being put in place.  But there are several other interesting things in this picture which shows the key deck space above the charge (between the superstructure and the forward gun). Firstly, I think those cylinders at the feet of the seaman are Mk VII depth charges – just at the moment of being loaded aboard – I think I can see six. So that’s interesting. Secondly, so are two of the characters on the picture. Just behind the seaman and the officer are two men dressed in civilian clothes – trilbies and overcoats.  They can’t be dockyard workers, as such clothing would be inappropriate. I wonder if they are SOE explosives specialists visiting the preparation to advise on device construction, which one assumes is going on below.   Forgive me a little speculation on that!  The SOE had a department, at the time called “ISRB” (Inter Services Research Bureau) who conducted research and development of some of the stranger weapons of war. ISRB supported SOE directly but also, and significantly, they supported “Combined Operations” the organisation, under Mountbatten, who coordinated and planned Operation ChariotISRB played a key role in developing the AC Time delays, time pencils, sand underwater initiators, so the “shopping list” of components listed earlier looks like they were from ISRB. So I think it’s reasonable for us to assess that the firing system had very significant input from ISRB, who also where masters at disguising and concealing devices.    A number of the central depth charges were under the access holes, allowing the charge to be primed.  There was a variant of the MkVII depth charge, that had a built in detonator adaptor to allow initiation from a detonator or cordtex , but it’s not clear if this was available to this mission, or indeed if it was developed as a result of this mission’s requirements.

The fuzing of the system is where we have to make a few speculative assumptions, and where there are only a few facts. What follows is a bit of a ramble through the technical aspects.

  1. The charge had at least two separate initiation systems, and it is very likely indeed that some of these were duplicated to ensure detonation.
  2. Both the primary and back-up initiation systems employed time delay switches. The challenge here is that many sources contradict each other on the lengths of time delays available, and then after that they are all dependent to a greater or lesser degree on the temperature. I’m conscious that in discussing some of the timings, there are queries over the “2.5” hour time pencil delays and “8.5” hour AC time delays that I have not resolved completely because of conflicting information.
  3. The primary initiation system was designed to function some time after the ship had been evacuated, probably 2.5 hours after the crew “disembarked”. It probably used at least one (and probably/almost certainly more than one) 2.5 hour pencil delays.
  4. The planned time between disembarkation and detonation was the reason that the device needed to be concealed.
  5. I have found one reference (not all that well sourced) that suggests that the primary ignition system (the 2.5 hour time pencils) were hidden, somehow, in the leg of a wardroom table.  I’m going to assume that this is the wardroom above the main charge, and that from the time pencil (or much more likely, multiple time pencils) was a detonator(s) and then an explosive link of cordtex that went down the table leg, through the deck below, and into the main charge.  But it is possible that the time pencil was connected to Bickford fuse and that the detonator was at the end of this, perhaps inside the false fuel tank attached to cordtex ring main.
  6. The 2.5 hour time pencils had a white-coloured safety strip.  Now 2.5 hours seems like a long time to me, but I think this was because of the other explosive demolition operations planned for the pumping house and other dock facilities – these would explode first, the commandos clear the area, and then the main charge in the Campbeltown would destroy the gates. Exploding the Campbeltown first may have compromised the ability to destroy all the supporting mechanisms.  So the concept of operation assumed that the device would be undiscovered for 2.5 hours – (in the middle of the night, during a battle, with raiding parties all around so not unreasonable). The main part of the raid was expected to take no more than 2 hours.
  7. Now, time pencils are a bit fiddly. They need some inspection during the process of initiating them, involving checking in sight holes, crushing a copper vial, crimping on safety fuze or detonator, inspecting again, and then removing the safety pin.  So the hidden compartment would need to allow fairly easy access. We know nothing more of this concealment. I sense the hand of ISRB in this concealment design. It is also possible that they fitted some sort of mechanism to aid the ease of initiation of the time pencils to reduce the fiddly process at the height of battle. here’s a pic of the the pencil:
  8. I suspect that the plan was for Tibbitts or one of the Royal Engineers to set these immediately after ramming the dock gates.  It would have been sensible to assign back up personnel to this task given the expected battle.
  9. The “back up” initiation system seems to have involved the use of “AC” delay devices.  These involved acetone dissolving a celluloid barrier, and different concentrations of acetone varied the timing.  Here’s a picture:

And a photo of one:

 

9. The delay is varied in these igniters by inserting different coloured ampoules of acetone. They are set by removing the safety pins then screwing the top in to break the ampoules   The ones supplied to the Campbeltown were supposedly “8.5 hour” delays, but other convincing sources don’t offer that as an available time delay. So that’s an anomaly I haven’t resolved. These, attached to a detonator, were embedded in the main charge or a ring main (I suspect there may have been a booster of some sort or some cordtex in the mix there to ensure the explosive train).  This 8.5 hour timer (if that is what it was) then has the consequence that the charges needed to be set several hours before the final stages of the operation commenced. But there’s some interesting maths here and some challenges.

10. The operation planned for the Campbeltown to ram the dock gates at 0130 hrs. (it did so 4 minutes late, at 0134 hrs.) .  The plan must(?) have been for the main delay mechanism. in the wardroom table leg, to be set at that point – with a 2.5 hour delay then the explosion was to have been at 0400.  The back up initiation system, to coincide with that, should therefore have been set, theoretically, at 1930hrs the previous evening.   Given that that was long before the approach to St Nazaire, and these fuses were known to have reliability issues, I think they would have been set later – hence the delay in initiation until next morning.  Added into all of this the AC fuses were known to have quite a range of variation in timing – by as much as 20% due to variables such as the temperature, and also variables in the concentration of the acetone due to poor quality control during manufacture. So some leeway would be given, as well as a fudge factor.  As it was , I understand from one source that the AC delays were “set” at 2330 hrs – but I can’t be sure what time zone that’s in – “British” or “local”.  Either way, at some point in the night, during passage towards St Nazaire,  Lt Tibbits (if it was him) set the AC time delays, I think by reaching somehow through the wardroom floor/deck, setting the devices, (remove the pin, screw the head in) then concealing the access hole with a wooden bung.

11. Then of course battle ensued and things went wrong, as they always do in battle. At some point during the attack, the wardroom was struck by a German shell. Fire ensued, and brave attempts were made to extinguish it.  In this picture, taken after the ramming but just before the ship exploded, I think you can see the resultant fire damage to the hull on the outside of the wardroom, just under the forward gun.  If you look carefully perhaps you can see a hole where the shell hit.

12. It was probably due to this shell that the primary initiation system was damaged and un-usable. It must also be luck that the device wasn’t initiated at this time, early.    So then the attack was relying on the back up AC delays deep in the hidden compartment. The hit on the wardroom also probably made a compete mess of the interior of the wardroom and perhaps added to the reasons why the charge was not found in the ensuing hours. But imagine crewing this ship, sat above (literally) a 3 ton explosive charge, knowing that there’s been a hit and a consequent fire around the initiating systems. Wow.  Encouragement to get off as soon as possible I think.  Here’s another picture showing how the sea cocks had been opened at the stern to prevent a rapid tow away by German forces.

13. The AC delays finally caused initiation, the main charge having been undetected, at about 10.30 am, perhaps 10 or 11 hours after the 8.5 hour delay (if that’s what they were) had been set.   40 senior German officers and civilians who were on a tour of what they supposed was the captured Campbeltown were killed.  Hundreds of others in the dock nearby were also killed or injured.  The charge, as you can see from the photo above, was probably 12 – 15ft behind the dock gates, which were blown apart by the explosion. The dock remained unusable until 1947.    What remained of the Campbeltown came to rest in the dry dock itself.

I think this photo (taken after the war, I think when the dock was being repaired) shows the immense scale of the Normandie Dry dock, with the little Campbeltown‘s remains occupying the space that would otherwise have held the mighty Tirpitz.

I have taken some liberties here with my sourcing and interpretation of the device design, and I’m very happy to be corrected. some of my assessments contradict some sources. (for instance one source suggests that the device was to be initiated  at 4.30 am, others after 0500 am). I put some of this down to the confusion of battle and also confusion over time zones.  I think I’d make the following points in summary:

  1. This attack has so much in common with a number of earlier ship-borne IEDs that occurred on the Channel or Atlantic coasts in the previous 400 years.
  2. It was fortunate it succeeded, particularly in terms of the enemy fire hitting the place where the primary initiation system was hidden.
  3. Disguise of the device was clearly a major factor in its construction. The disguise and concealment worked. If one regards this “ship IED” as essentially a large vehicle-borne IED, the key features of a VBIED are all here – mobility, disguise, speed, size of container.  As others in history worked out for themselves, (and as you can read on other pages of this blog), as vehicle-borne IEDs go, there are none bigger than ships.
  4. Exploring the “tactical design” of any IED attack is always fascinating, and the same is true here in spades.  Too little time is spent understanding this process (both by perpetrators and by investigators). That complex interrelationship of the mission, and the way that technical resources can be moulded to fit the mission, or the mission tweaked to take account of the technicalities of device design and construction is fascinating.  If you were in Tibbits’s shoes, how many back-ups would you have? How would you protect them, from enemy fire and from discovery?  What alternatives can you envisage? What other resources did he have available?  Complex attacks sometimes require complex devices. Simplicity usually works.  For simple, routine sabotage type operations the availability of explosive components leads to the design of the mission.  But for complex operations such as this, the components have to be adapted to suit the required characteristics, and that can pose challenges.  For those developing components for use by saboteurs, such as ISRB, they have to cover all angles they have to allow as much flexibility as possible and you can see that in the range of timers and initiation types available. There are some interesting parallels, as ever, with modern terrorism.
  5. The reliance on somewhat unreliable time delay devices is perhaps surprising in modern terms. The whole concept of operation screams for a mechanical rather than chemical timer, or in modern terms an electronic timer.
  6. We’ll probably never know the actual design, or if there were additional fallback initiation systems.
  7. IEDs are not always the sole provenance of the enemy. Often viewed with disdain, sometimes depending on your perspective, their use can be heroic. What a strange phenomena they are. Of course you may not regard this as an IED at all, but I do.
  8. Checking out a large vehicle or ship for hidden explosives is damned difficult if the device is well hidden.
  9. Bloody hell, it was a close run thing.

I think most of all about the challenge faced by Lt Tibbits. As the Campbeltown approached St Nazaire docks, its guns blazing , under heavy fire from everything the Germans could muster, he replaced two helmsmen, both killed by incoming enemy fire, and he was at the wheel, the skipper by his side, as it rammed the dock gates at full speed trailing the royal ensign that had replaced the ruse de guerre of a German flag minutes before.  He knew his primary initiation was gone – so he may have felt significant pressure to somehow ensure detonation.  Dare he rely on the back up charges?   Given the decks were strewn with injured, that would have restricted his options.  Would the device be discovered?  What choices were open to him? In any event he was cut down by machine gun fire a few seconds after disembarking and he died there on the dockside and that, I’m afraid, was that for Lt Tibbits.

In future, I may do a similar piece on the WW1 Zeebrugge raid which has a lot of similarities, including another big IED. If I can get enough facts together. One wonders too, that if earlier in the war Operation Lucid had succeeded, would the Germans have paid more attention to the likelihood of explosive charges. Or if they had access to the history of explosive ships along this European coast would they have dug a little deeper into the hull of HMS Campbeltown.

The Bath School Bombing – 1927

I’ve been doing this blog for some time, and vacuuming up data on historical bombing incidents for even longer. For some reason I thought I had done a piece on the Bath School Bombing some years ago – but turns out I hadn’t.

The tragedy of the Bath School Bombing is still with us today – so called “lone-wolf” terrorists with a grievance against society are still with us and that strange focus on schools still perplexes us all. The attack has some technical aspects that are interesting – the bomber emplacing a concealed large device over many weeks, the classic “return to the scene” and the use of a suicide car bomb – an early one.

Here’s the story. In 1927 Andrew Kehoe was a 55 year old single man living in the town of Bath, not far from Lansing in Michigan, USA. His mother had died when he was a child. His step-mother died in a strange accident with a stove and there are allegations that Kehoe or his father may have tampered with that stove.  So, he had a troubled childhood.   He had in earlier years killed a neighbour’s dog and also a horse that he owned, out of frustration with it. So – an angry man. He later qualified as an electrician which is probably pertinent.

In 1926 Kehoe lost a local election, and this appears to have been the cause of his subsequent acts. He started stockpiling explosives at that time, and also, it seems he undertook various actions to make his foreclosed farm less valuable to its eventual owners – he cut all the wire fencing, killed the trees and killed his grapevines. His wife, Nellie, suffered from tuberculosis and this further strained his finances. At the time of the attack she was chronically ill.

It seems Kehoe’s plan was to punish the community that rejected him – and that the school, (which he objected to paying taxes to support) was as good a representative of the community as he could find. Indeed he was employed by the school as a temporary electrician at one time, so knew the layout and access to the school buildings. Kehoe bought explosives from farm suppliers in small batches over many months and after the incident, police came to the conclusion that more dynamite was stolen by him from a bridge construction team some time earlier.

On May 16, his wife Nellie was discharged from hospital and some time later was murdered by Kehoe. He set a number of incendiary devices in the home and its outbuildings. These were initiated at 0845 on 18 May.   At about the same time, a timed explosive device detonated underneath the North wing of the school where the device had been hidden in the basement. The device was timed with an adapted alarm clock. 38 people were killed in the explosion – mostly children. Lessons had started 15 minutes earlier.

At about 0915, Kehoe arrived at the bomb site in his Ford truck. He summoned over the police chief, Superintendent Emory Huyck.  There was a brief struggle over a rifle and then the truck itself exploded, killing Kehoe, the Police Chief, a local man, and a child who had survived the first explosion. Another man died later from injuries caused. It appears that additional shrapnel had been piled on the back seat on top of a charge of dynamite. I think there is little doubt that this was in effect a suicide VBIED. Investigation at his home found the body of his wife and also two dead, hobbled horses , feet tied with wire, in a burnt-down stable.

During the follow up to rescue injured children another 500 pounds of explosive was found in the basement under the South wing of the school. It had failed to detonate, but was also attached to a timer set to switch at 0845.  Here’s photo of the recovered explosives.

After the events investigators found this sign attached to the Kehoe property gate, presumably attached there by Kehoe himself.

This sad tale suggests that lone bombers are not solely modern phenomena. Easy access to explosives enables such acts, and the technology is “easy”.  The strained mental health of potentially violent people remain issues today.

(All images public domain)

Kinda Caracas

I came across this nugget of EOD history today while looking for something else. But it’s a good story on its own.  In 1968, the famous Cammel Laird shipyard in Birkenhead, Northern England won a contract to “refit” a Venezuelan naval vessel. The Venezuelan Navy delivered the vessel to the shipyard, “handed over the keys” and jumped on a plane back home.  The shipyard got to work refitting the ship. Some weeks later, in August 1968, the work package on this ship got to the main armament, a 102mm gun.  At some point the breech of the main gun on the ship was opened and a fitter happened to look down the barrel. Expecting to see a shiny barrel with the sunlit sight of Merseyside in the distance the mechanic was surprised to see nothing. Blackness.   So he had a think and the next day told his management.  A torch was acquired and shone down said barrel.  There was something down there. It was a shell.  The shell fitted so snugly down the 102mm barrel (4″?) that it was jammed tight.  Presumably the Venezuelan Navy had been carrying out some firing exercises in the past, and got the shell stuck, then, perhaps they had “forgotten” about it. Mañana.  There were some indications in some strange written records, translated from Spanish, that heavy weights had been dropped down the elevated barrels in an attempt to free the shell. (!)   At this point the local Army EOD team was called to Birkenhead to deal with the matter.

Messages were sent to London, translated, and sent through Diplomatic channels to the Venezuelan government seeking comprehensive technical background and details. These were provided, translated and sent back to London then on to the EOD team, stood on the deck of the ship.  The advice from Caracas was as follows (in full):

Message starts:

  1. If the shell’s front end is coloured RED, it is high explosive.
  2. If the shell’s front end is painted YELLOW , it is not high explosive.

Message Ends.

The EOD team metaphorically shrugged at this. They lowered a camera down the barrel and took a colour picture. The end of the shell was painted ORANGE.  There were other unidentified obstructions in the barrel too…. So what to do?  After some thought, they carried out a number of appropriate techniques to loosen the shell in the barrel, all to no avail. Eventually the breech was cut out of the gun completely, shell and all, and transported to a range for destruction. Here’s a pic of the EOD office (in service dress, no less) manoeuvring the shell in the breech at the range in Sennybridge.

 

 

 

 

 

Rediscovering the hand-howitzer

Some time last year I encountered this strange photo, which I assumed was a peculiar weapon of some sort developed in WW1.

At first I thought it was some form of captive bolt  “humane-killer” for horses, with the hook in front of the trigger designed to hook onto the bridle of a horse, perhaps for use under bombardment – the hand-guard protecting the veterinarians hand from snapping teeth. But I couldn’t explain other aspects of the complex system on the “top” of the weapon.  I put out a plea for help last summer on social media but got no useful answers at the time.  A couple of days ago I thought I’d try again and this time with success. So here is the story of this exotic weapon, named by the inventor as a “hand howitzer. I’d like to thank a number of folk who helped me find this – much appreciated.

The inventor was a Northern Irish engineer, by the name of Samuel Cleland Davidson. He did not have any great education, leaving school at the age of 15, but he clearly had an aptitude for engineering and he was an avid experimenter.  After some time in the tea trade, he invented a range of machinery to help with the processing of tea leaves. One of his inventions was particularly successful, a system using a centrifugal fan to blow hot air over drying tea leaves, and his engineering factory in Belfast was called Sirocco, presumably a reference to a “hot wind”. His company “Davidson and Co” went on to make a wide variety of fans and other related mechanical engineering equipment. His company made fans for the Titanic, built at the adjacent shipyard in Belfast, as well as for other ships around the world. Indeed during WWI it would appear that the entire German naval fleet were equipped with Sirocco fans.

Davidson was already 68 years old at the start of WW1, but his son James was an officer, who was killed on the Somme.

Now as readers of the blog will know, there was a lot of innovation encouraged in WW1 to address the particular challenges of trench warfare. Quite a number of grenade and trench mortar systems were developed with varying degrees of success and sophistication and I’ve covered some of these such as the Garland trench mortar in earlier blog posts.  The British Army and the Australian army set up “Munitions Inventions Departments” and these developed and tested such innovations. At some stage, perhaps driven by his son’s experiences. Davidson designed a grenade launcher. Unlike some of the cruder systems that abounded, the “hand howitzer” was somewhat more sophisticated, giving the ability to adjust the rage of the grenade mechanically.  He achieved this by having a system that vented the breech to a lesser of greater degree. If the vent was fully closed the range of the grande would consequently be maximised and the range was shortened incrementally by adjusting the vent.  By implication the system,  had some sort of mechanism to check the level or the angle of launch.  The full US patent for the system is here and open can see some sort of inclinometer on the side not shown in the photo above. The hook allows the system to be held firm while checking the inclinometer.  There were two versions, one hand held, and one fired from a tripod.

Here’s an extract from one of the diagrams in the patent. Note that there diligent engineer that Davidson was, has included a built in oil bottle into the bottom of the system (“u”).

Davidson’s son, James, was serving with 36 (Ulster) Division and was killed on 1 July 1916, the first day of the Somme. He was a Captain in the Machine Gun Corps. Some personal details of James Davidson are here.  Other details are here.  Although it has perhaps little bearing on his father’s invention, which brought me to this subject, one cannot but be moved by the story of his death. After eight o’clock on the morning of 1 July 1916, in response to a request for a Vickers Gun, the official battalion War Diary for the 13th Royal Irish Rifles reported that “Captain Davidson whose guns were in reserve was then sent out.”   At 10.20 am, the War Diary notes, Davidson reported:

“Am in B line & have got up two Vickers Guns, am consolidating both. Cannot say how many infantry are in line … We cannot possible advance & reinforcements, ammn [sic] & bombs most urgently needed.”

At 12.40 pm he sent a further message:

“I am holding the end of a communication trench in A Line with a few bombers & a Lewis gun. We cannot hold much longer. We are being pressed on all sides and ammunition almost finished.”

His family received a number of letters from his fellow soldiers. One was from Lieutenant WW Ashcroft written on July 3rd, 1916. He too was a member of the Machine Gun Company of the 108th Brigade, and noted of James Davidson that “It was through him that I came to the 13th [Royal Irish Rifles]…” He went on to describe to Davidson’s father the events around his son’s death:

“When things went badly, and he no doubt felt his obvious duty was to take up reinforcements, off he went, and for a long time he held up more or less single handed a dangerous position; although shot through the knee, he refused to be carried back; alternately he fired his Gun, and threw bombs until he had to retire to bind up his wound; he returned, and did what he could, and finally he started back to try and find reinforcements. He was shortly after shot through the head.”

Another, Gunner Thomas Pinkerton wrote in August 1916 to Samuel Davidson that he had been with his son when, having held out in the trenches despite being shot through the knee, Davidson had decided to try to get back to the British lines:

“We got to the German front line trench and went down the trench about 200 yards to get as much dead ground as possible. I topped the parapet, and helped the Captain up, and had just got through the wire when I noticed about a dozen men on my left, a few yards up, retiring. Just then the Germans opened a deadly Machine Gun and Rifle fire on us – we just got 20 yards from the wire when the Captain got shot through the head – he just fell, and never spoke nor moved. He died instantly – there was no hope.”

James Davidson’s body was lost in the confusion of the Somme. Twelve years later his body was found on the south side of the Ancre Valley, and identified from an engraved compass found in his pocket. He is now buried in the Serre Road Cemetery, No2, but his name also appears on the Theipval Memorial to the missing.

Samuel Davidson’s invention was registered and patented in 1917, the following year.  It is said he was negotiating a significant order for the hand howitzer with the US army but the end of the war came first and the design was shelved.  He was knighted in 1921.

I will have more on WW1 Munitions Inventions Departments activity in future posts.

 

 

 

 

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