August 11, 1914.
HMCS Rainbow, engaged in combat off the Farallon Islands.
Through his binoculars, Hose viewed intently as a pair of large shell splashes lanced their way skyward, followed a few seconds later by a trio of their smaller contemporaries. The first salvo from the 6” guns had overshot while the 4.7” guns almost all undershot, the next salvo showed the exact opposite in a drill perfect performance of gunnery. They had straddled on their second salvo, a pang of guilt shot through him for underestimating his crew, although it quickly faded from his mind. The German cruiser had quickly become wise to their initial ambush and by this time, was bringing their ship around to unleash the full broadside of her guns. Soon after
Rainbow let off her third salvo, the Commander heard the unmistakable sound of a shell shrieking close overhead, followed shortly after by the pattering of shrapnel off his ship’s sides. As he lowered his binoculars and peered back over the ship from the bridge wing, a 4.1” shell came careening across
Rainbow’s decks.
'Damn these Germans, scoring a hit this early isn't particularly sporting of them.'
The resulting explosion split one of her forward engine vents open like a banana and sent splinters from a what was once a ships boat raining over the heads of the adjacent 4.7” gun crews. Even with the jarring explosion, Hose was rather surprised as their rate of fire did not slow significantly.
“I think we got her good that time sir!” One of the lookouts exclaimed, “I see smoke pouring out from under her bri…”
The rating was cut-off by a tremendous detonation close by, followed by momentary all-encompassing darkness. When the Commander regained his senses, he found himself sprawled out across a now incredibly slanted bridge wing. Judging by the carnage and the sticky stinging sensation in his lower extremities, a shell must have slashed through the platforms outer supports and fetched into the conning tower. Rolling from his back to his hands and knees, Hose crawled his way up the perforated staging and pulled himself back into the bridge proper. The lookout from before was missing and the remainder of the rattled bridge crew looked back at Hose as if he was a ghost.
“All hands move below, we are transferring command to the conning tower.”
As they descended, the crew clung to the ladder tightly as the ship shuddered under the impact of what felt like multiple hits. When they arrived and familiarized themselves with the somewhat dusty station, Hose peered through the side slits in an attempt to regain some kind of situational awareness. Pushing his binoculars up to the port, he was greeted with a view of the rapidly closing German cruiser. Her visage was trailing multiple plumes of smoke, at least one from what was likely an internal fire under the bridge and another under the aft mainmast. He could have sworn there was multiple shell holes across her freeboard but at this distance, it was hard to distinguish any potential damage from her portholes. Either way, she was obviously out for blood and still very much combat effective.
“Sir.” A nearby rating queried, “You seem to be bleeding a bit onto the floor.”
Looking down at his largely intact uniform pants, he could see small droplets of crimson beginning to fall from both his lower legs and partially torn sea boots.
“So it seems.” The Commander chuckled as he retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket to help stifle the bleeding. Various scratches and gouges crawled up his ankles, leaking enough fluids to begin to drip while his feet felt rather damp and throbbed rather dully inside their housings. “Looks only to be a few scratches at the moment.” In truth, Hose did not particularly want to take off his boots in front of the men at this point.
As the minutes crawled by, punctuated by her own guns firing and the occasional groan of an enemy shell colliding with the ship, Hose glanced down at the ships speed indicator. The pointer jumped slightly between 19 and 19.5 knots, rather incredibly the worn old ship was making near her designed top speed. Even with the excellent work of the engineering team below, the crew was under no illusion that this burst of speed was only temporary, this was likely the ships final run and if the Germans did not sink her, she would be lucky to crawl home. This thought was soon the least of the crew’s concern as multiple tremors reverberated through the conning tower, heavy splinters loudly clanging off its armored exterior. Hose waited for the smoke to be blown overboard by the sea winds but strangely, the smoke continued to come. Black smoke billowed from around the mount which could be partially seen wrenched up aimlessly into the sky, its blackened gun shield warped heavily. Various crew members were hollering something incomprehensible but no sooner as they started, their voices were lost amidst multiple rapid detonations around the mount. Hose ducked down as the fireball came partially into the conning tower through the viewing slits, soon being followed by the smell of cordite and thick tar like smoke.
“All hands move to the aft conning tower!” Hose sputtered as he and the rest of the crew attempted to evacuate the area, the smoke worming it's way into the tower. The bridge above was a disaster of broken glass and wood splinters, the roof of which was partially blown clear by a shell hit. Stepping alongside the platforms stretching above the 4.7” battery below, Hose finally began to take in the destruction. As the fire raged forward, he could see that multiple shells must have hit in the proximity of the middle most 4.7” gun as the walkway even on the opposite broadside to the action was splintered in places, one of the funnels towering above showing a clear split from battle damage. The line of men shimmied over top of the aft mast which had partially collapsed, glancing off the funnel and hanging limp over the ships side. Stepping around the shards of boats, warped metal, and small fires as they went, the crew soon came to the aft bridge which was relatively intact.
Rainbow’s firing had slackened significantly, her 4.7” battery still seemingly to be operational although firing at a much-reduced rate of fire.
View of Rainbow's broadside battery, her walkway over the battery can be seen to the left.
Hose stopped momentarily at the rail to peer over, catching the sight of the ships aft 6” gun. A skeleton crew was left manning the weapon, injured men limped back and forth, powder and shell in hand. Even more men lay motionless on the splinter warped decks, their comrades simply stepping around them as they went. For the second and last time that day, the very decks of
Rainbow lurched violently. As if a hand from up on high had come rocketing down on her, a thunderous explosion erupted forward, sending debris skyward. Hose had managed to keep himself from colliding with the deck again as he shielded his eyes from the flash but as he came up from his half crouch, he felt her begin to slow significantly as light grey smoke vented from her funnels.
“What was that?” One of the officers cried as he stuck his head out over the aft bridge wing, “Oh my god.......the bow is gone!”
Hose gritted his teeth in frustration as he leaned over the rail to view the damage for himself. From what he could see through her mangled remains, the fire forward must have reached down into the magazines and touched them off. Everything a few feet forward of the first funnel was completely missing, the shattered hull slapping against the incoming water as she rapidly began to dig her forward compartments further down into the sea. They were incredibly lucky the explosions were contained forward of the ship, as they could have easily spread aft through the shared 4.7” ammunition handling areas. Hose didn’t discount the thought of a second detonation but that being said, they were no longer a fighting unit and with shells still splashing around her, it was time to save whatever crew he could at this point.
“Lieutenant get the message out to everybody you can.” Hose paused for a moment as he glanced back forward, “We are abandoning ship. If anybody can reach the ensign, they can haul it down.”
This effort would seem to be in vain though as another shell rocketed into the aft of
Rainbow, cutting down a group of men who were beginning to assemble on her side. Hose silently cursed as he felt the ship let out a horrible groan before slipping even further into a nosedive. There was no time for flotation vests, they would have to take their chances with the sea. Jumping down the side of the aft bridge and onto the deck below, Hose felt his feet buckle slightly but the adrenaline in his veins pushed him to repeatedly yelled to any men still on the deck to abandon the ship. Any in earshot rapidly complied with a prompt splash. There would be no rousing final speech to his crew for their noble actions and stellar fighting before they went over, he would have to make do by hopefully saving as many lives as he could. The feeling of imminent dread began to take hold of Hose but for his actions, the decks were clear of any live personnel. As the officer rounded the corner to the aft 6” gun, he was beginning to lose the battle with his instincts to stay aboard. To his surprise though, a lone figure could be made out standing at the main firing position. With a thunderous crack, the weapon spoke for the last time as the young boy soon slumped down exhausted to the deck. His body was soaked with sweat and blood dripped from his chest and head, pooling under his position on the deck below.
“I got one last salvo off all by myself sir.” He sputtered, “I think I even hit the bastard too!”
Hose looked around at the spattering of torn bodies surrounding the mount, “Incredible job lad but I think it’s time for a swim now. Can you swim?”
The boy nodded but as he turned to get up and follow Hose over the side, his legs collapsed out from under him and he fell back into a pile on the deck. With no time to spare, Hose reached down with the remainder of his strength and half hoisted the boy into his arms, edging his way to the side before taking one last look around at his ship. The blackened and shredded surroundings were devoid of any survivors, just the same though the Germans continued to poor fire into her somewhere even as she rapidly sank. As the stern continued to rise up and up into the mist, Hose stood defiantly beside the aft cap stain. Glancing down at his watch, they had been engaged for just shy of 45 minutes. Definitely more than he had expected to hold out against such a foe. Just before he dropped into the murky deep and it's encompassing blackness, Hose couldn't help but turn his attention the tattered ensign, still flapping defiantly from up above.
