Scapegoat: The Death of Prince of Wales and Repulse (21 page)

Layton may have had a toughness that impressed some other senior officers, but it was allied with a massive insensitivity. Phillips has been criticized for being aloof. Layton seemed to find it quite easy to do far worse than appear as aloof. Hurriedly recalled to Singapore on the death of Phillips, Layton addressed the survivors of the two ships after an inspirational speech by Captain Tennant of
Repulse
. Layton’s speech was ‘thoroughly depressing’
¹⁰
, and he told the survivors that they would no longer be known as the ship’s company of
Prince of Wales
or
Repulse,
but would be used in whatever way seemed best to fight the forthcoming battle for Singapore.
Repulse
’s crew were tight-knit anyway,
Prince of Wales
’s drawn together by the catastrophe. The news they were to be split up and denied survivors’ leave was a crushing blow to morale. Layton was unsympathetic towards a small number of former crewman from
Prince of Wales
who had been sent to man ferries under fire who walked out and took themselves back to Singapore, men who nowadays would have been immediately diagnosed as suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, but his biggest disaster was the signal he sent out when he left Singapore just in time to avoid capture:

‘Layton’s apparent inability to express himself cogently was demonstrated by the signal he sent to the men of the Eastern Fleet a few weeks later when he was appointed C-in-C Ceylon – a signal dispatched at a time when the Japanese army was at the gates of Singapore and the future held only the prospect of death or captivity for all who were still on the island:

With your heads held high and your hearts beating proudly, I leave the defence of Singapore in your strong and capable hands. I am off to Colombo to collect a new fleet.

… the matelots who received the signal paraphrased the unfortunate choice of wording to mean: ‘
Pull up the ladder, Jack. I’m all right!’
As a message of farewell from their Commander-in-Chief it did not go down well.’
¹¹

There is nothing to suggest that Layton would have fared any better than Phillips with Force Z. The support given him does point to some of the least attractive features of the Royal Navy in 1941.

Admiral James Somerville was another person with an individual axe to grind. He had been successful in command of Force H, but had fallen foul of Churchill in the Battle of Spartivento and was possibly still smarting from the fact that his ships had had to open fire on units of the French fleet at Mers el Kebir, and despite this had allowed the battleship
Strasbourg
to make good its escape, whilst Cunningham a few days later persuaded the French fleet in Alexandria to disarm peacefully. He could realistically have expected the Far Eastern command that was given to Tom Phillips, as he was indeed given it after Phillips’s death. His already-quoted comment: ‘… the pocket Napoleon and his party. All the tricks to learn and no solid sea experience to fall back on. They ought to have someone who knows the stuff and can train that party properly on the way out,’
¹²
is as unjust as Cunningham’s comment that Phillips did not know one end of a ship from another. Apart from the fact that training a ship’s company was the responsibility of the ship’s Captain, not the Admiral flying his flag in that ship,
Prince of Wales
lacked any training on working with
Repulse
, a fact that given the latter ship being in a different ocean much of the time would have made it impossible for God himself, never mind Somerville, to train the two crews together. Somerville must have known that the gaps in the training of
Prince of Wales
in particular could not be remedied on the voyage to Singapore. In particular, the absence not only of aircraft but even of towed targets denied
Prince of Wales
the training in anti-aircraft fire that would have stood it in good stead. Nor, given the necessary speed of the trip out and the small number of ships involved, was it possible for
Prince of Wales
to do much about coordinating an anti-submarine screen of escorts or minesweeping operations.

Somerville was invalided out of the Navy with active TB in 1939, as the result of what was almost certainly a mistaken medical diagnosis, and, as was Ramsay, reinstated when war broke out. Somerville made light of this; his family believed it cut him deeply.
¹³
My own sense is of a man with a deep distrust of what he saw as the Naval Establishment, of which he saw Tom Phillips as a member. That distrust may not have had as its prime motivation that he was sent packing by the Navy on the grounds of an illness that had gone by the time he got home. More likely was his resentment at being ordered to open fire on the French by the Admiralty, when he persuaded himself that with more time he might have brokered a peaceful outcome; the refusal of the Admiralty to allow enough training time for Force H; the accusation emanating from the Admiralty that he was guilty of cowardice at Spartivento. Such feelings were never going to recommend Phillips to Somerville, because Somerville saw Phillips, not altogether justly, as sitting at the centre of the Establishment that undercut him and threatened his reputation.

Somerville spent most of his time as Commander in Chief of the Far Eastern Fleet avoiding the Japanese, and succeeding in this by a mix of sound judgment and plain good luck. It was an impossible job he was given, but his management of the fleet Tom Phillips might have had if he had survived does nothing to suggest Force Z under his command would have fared any differently from how it fared with Phillips. For example, Somerville was an inveterate risk-taker, though to his credit as a human being a number of the risks he took were in order to save his own men. Somerville led an attempt to locate the Japanese fleet that most authorities believe would have led to the loss of his two carriers had it succeeded. It was certainly no less audacious than Phillips’s mission with Force Z, but was arguably more foolhardy. Somerville was an early advocate of aircraft in naval operations, and both knew about and was keen on technology, rather unusually so for Admirals of the time. It did not stop him risking two prime carriers against the Japanese, and Somerville at least had the carriers to call on, unlike Phillips.

However, the clash between Somerville and Phillips may simply have been one of personalities. Somerville was another example of someone who placed a high value – perhaps too high a value – on physical exertion. He drove himself too hard physically, nearly dying from illness as a Midshipman and again in 1924. He was described as having a near-obsession with rowing a small boat round the ships under his command (when arriving at one ship unannounced at an ungodly hour he responded to being asked to identify himself by saying he was the Commander in Chief, to which the Quartermaster replied: ‘And I’m fucking Churchill!’)
¹⁴
Somerville had a greater sense of humour than most of his contemporaries, but it was often obscene, lavatorial or sexual: ‘… Somerville’s staff sometimes found his peculiar brand of bawdy humour, and his repartee heavily laced with obscenities, tedious and overdone.’
¹⁵

Somerville changed in his career from being a shy man into an extrovert with ‘… a conscious urge to be the centre of the stage and to act the unorthodox Admiral who was talked about at all levels.’
¹⁶

Tom Phillips was no prude, neither was he short of social skills, but his personality was such as would take little joy and considerable distaste in a foul-mouthed colleague, and one who was seen at times as striking a pose.

However, Layton and Somerville have only dealt a by-blow to the standing of Tom Phillips, their private comments regarding him and Force Z used as ammunition by writers hostile to Phillips who have plenty more ammunition to fire. A more crucial figure, and something of an enigma, is Admiral Sir Andrew Cunningham. We have seen Cunningham’s private view above. Apart from this, Cunningham largely kept a public silence on the sinking of Force Z, allowing it only a few lines in his extremely long autobiography:

‘The loss of the
Prince of Wales
and
Repulse
off Malaya on December 10th, about which I need make no comment, had a profound effect upon our sailors, who rather took the view that these two ships, because of their inexperience of air attacks, should never have been sent out. However, that is not for me to discuss.’
¹⁷

This is typical Cunningham, cloaking at least one of his views by ascribing it to others, and then closing with a throwaway line. I doubt very much that the hot topic on the lower deck was the victim’s inexperience of air attack. Yet it is not this sideways swipe that has damaged Phillips’s reputation. Cunningham emerged from the war as perhaps the most heroic of all British naval leaders and the victor of Taranto and Matapan. He was the only one of the major British Admirals to produce an autobiography. It is self-valedictory and shares with Churchill’s writings that it is not so much history as one man’s version of history. What it does not share is Churchill’s willingness to admit that this is the case. As well as an autobiography that is not short on self-justification, Cunningham was the subject of a largely eulogistic biography.
¹⁸
It is not so much that Cunningham said much bad about Tom Phillips. Rather, it is that he failed to say anything good; had he done so, his status would have ensured that the world took note. Even more reason for it to do so is that the official Naval historian, Captain Stephen Roskill, favours Cunningham hugely in his books, and if Cunningham had led he might have followed.

It is possible to discern a degree of hypocrisy on Cunningham’s part. Cunningham was a seriously political animal, as well as a brave and charismatic leader. Two Admirals in the war – Phillips and Admiral Tovey (pronounced ‘Tuvvy’) placed their careers and their prospects at risk by daring to disagree with Churchill on a point of principle. Cunningham disapproved of the expedition to Greece, but backed down in the face of political pressure. The Fleet suffered terrible losses and, to his credit, it was Cunningham who held them together. So bad was the impact of the campaign on the Royal Navy’s ships and men that it is true Cunningham offered his resignation, albeit in a manner and at a time that made it certain it would not be accepted.

There is an alternative view of Cunningham that sees his two great victories at Taranto and Matapan as having little to do with him. He was not a fan of the Fleet Air Arm, and Taranto was planned by others, and may indeed have arisen from a suggestion from the Admiralty. In August 1939 Pound wrote to Cunningham: ‘When we attack Italy itself … then I think there is a great deal to be said for making an attack by air on the Italian fleet at Taranto.’
¹⁹

Matapan only happened as it did because of the Royal Navy’s aircraft and
Valiant
’s radar, the latter another gadget of the type Cunningham was never keen on. It can be argued that Cunningham’s policy of total up-and-at-‘em aggression failed for the first time in Greece and Crete, and revealed the limitations of a man whose only tactic was the offensive. However, his greatest sin was his failure to oppose the evacuation of Greece and the defence of Crete. He was one of the few people who might have tipped the balance in favour of sanity, and his importance is confirmed by the fact that Churchill sent no less a person than Anthony Eden to persuade him into acquiescence. Cunningham’s failure was that he sensed the truth summed up by one commentator: ‘It is difficult to judge which was the greater folly, the British decision to defend Crete or the German decision to seize the island’
²⁰
but let the folly happen, as well as ending the evacuation early and so leaving 10,000 men stranded. It is possible that, if he knew that Phillips had taken the more honourable option by sticking to his cause, it rankled deeply.

This book is only partly about a series of historical events. Inevitably it touches also on how history is written, the hidden machinery of opinion and comment that underpin all published history. In terms of the reputation of Tom Phillips, it is tempting to ask what the effect would be on Cunningham’s reputation if his career was subject to the same hostile scrutiny, the same close analysis of every word spoken and every action taken. As one example, Cunningham would emerge as late as December 1939 as believing that mobile surface ships were proof against air attack. Writing to Pound in December 1939 he noted:

‘I hope your view about battleships v. aircraft is unduly pessimistic. As far as I know not a single hit has been made on a moving target and surely our battleships have been constructed and reconstructed to stand up to a bomb hit or two?’
²¹

This is a stronger justification of the battleship than any on the record from Phillips.

Cunningham was renowned for his parsimony and unwillingness to spend money, one of his favourite phrases used in reaction to expenditure on anything he deemed a luxury being: ‘It’s too velvet-arsed and Rolls-Royce for me!’ His staff were used to being met with the cry: ‘That’s right – make the war expensive!’ Cunningham was bored by administration, and as bad to work for on shore as he was good to serve under at sea:

‘…the questioning of administrative decisions taken by the Staff becomes very frustrating and wearing, leading sometimes to definite rows. So eventually I arranged with the Secretary, A. P. Shaw, to issue administrative instructions to the Fleet by memorandum instead of by signal, which I signed “For Admiral” and his Secretary undertook not to let the C-in-C see them. Very improper, but this seemed to be the only way to get necessary things done without the constant criticism.’
²²

One of the biggest disasters to befall the Mediterranean fleet under Cunningham’s command was the sinking of the battleships
Queen Elizabeth
and
Valiant
at their moorings by Italian midget submarines. The visual effect of the sinkings was lessened by the fact that the ships did not capsize but were able to settle upright on the seabed, to a cursory glance appearing still to be afloat. It may be that Cunningham’s parsimony was partially responsible for the success of the attack, in his refusal to augment harbour defences. In particular, Rear Admiral Cresswell, in charge of security at Alexandria, had asked for an Extended Defence Officer for the harbour boom, but had his request turned down by Cunningham because of what Cunningham saw as Cresswell’s ‘insatiable’ demands for officers.
²³
Cunningham was also at fault in that when two Italian divers were found clinging to
Valiant
’s anchor chain, Cunningham ordered the bottom of his two battleships’ hulls to be chain swept, but crucially did not order them to get steam up and move. Cunningham’s comment to Pound after he had locked the stable door was: ‘It is costing a lot, but we must have this harbour secure.’
²⁴