| To: |
Flag Officer Commanding,
RN Aerial Forces, Mars |
| Copy to: |
Cdr. H. Villard
Commander, RN Light Aerial Forces, Mars |
| From: |
Lt Cdr Mitchell, RNVR, Commanding HMS Viper |
Please inform their Lordships:
On June 17, 1889, the recently converted 200 ton prize
HMS Viper
left Syrtis Major, escorting 3 merchant vessels, pursuant to our
orders. We steamed first toward Haatt where, due to the limited number
of Royal Marines available, I would request a platoon of the Australian
Mounted Infantry, with whom we had worked before, to assist in the
defense of our vital convoy and fill out our complement of 29 officers
and men.
On June 18, 1889, 10 miles SW of Haatt, while proceeding NE toward the
city, we were intercepted by the RN Auxiliary vessel HMAS Swift, sailing out of Haatt. The Swift joined our stately procession toward the
city. Immediately thereafter, at 1500 hours local time, another aerial
vessel was sighted approaching us, also from the direction of the city.
The vessel was large, 500 tons, and of the Oenotrian
Endtime-class. The Swift was ordered to break from our
track and circle downwind, escorting the convoy into Haatt while we
dealt with the Endtime. As the wind was blowing strongly, the
merchant kites would have no trouble outrunning the enemy vessel. The
Endtime-class can make 15 knots, while the kites were making 35
knots in the near gale force winds. It was a great day to be flying.
The Viper closed on the Endtime at 15 knots indicated
airspeed and 30 knots closure. The Oenotrian could not escape us - we
expected an easy victory. The battle turned out to be a very near
thing, however.
As we entered gun range, 1200 yards, the
Endtime fired its lob
gun. We were holding our fire until optimum range (about 400 yards for
our three gun battery of bow mounted quick firing guns), for maximum
effect. Unfortunately, the massive stone projectile stuck the
Viper hard. This was an incredible piece of luck for the
Oenotrians. The thing hit aft. Luckily for us it was abaft the boiler.
The ship pitched, nose up, and rolled sharply to the left. The helmsman
caught her smartly, leveling her off laterally. This proved a great
help to Petty Officer George Hitsman, our trimsman, as he struggled to
regain trim control of the
Viper. We passed through the
horizontal at a large and growing pitching rate. Petty officer Hitsman
regained control expertly, leveling the
Viper out at high
altitude - making our total altitude loss only about 600 feet. Many a
ship our size would have crashed after taking such a hit from the
massive Martian lob gun - our survival is due only to the expert skill
of our fine trimsman.
It took us a minute or so to get ourselves straightened out and back
aboard the ship (Several men were left dangling over the side, saved
only by their safety lines; they had to be retrieved). This delay in
our opening fire, caused by the precipitous drop and the loss of trim,
gave the Oenotrians the opportunity to damage us severely with
impunity. The enemy captain extended us no mercy, attacking viciously
with a close range barrage from his two heavy guns, and his bow
swivel-mounted rod gun. All of the weapons struck us, damaging the hull
and causing several casualties. He then rammed us! Again, Petty Officer
Hitsman again proved his skill by maintaining trim through an incredible
impact. Our helmsman steered skillfully to minimize the impact, saving
us further hull damage. With the Endtime two and a half times
our weight, however, the shock was still extremely dangerous. Our
nine-pounder battery aft fired on the enemy as he passed to our rear,
the gunners having managed to return to their posts. Finally we could
hit back! And strike we did, sending two of our three nine pounder
starshell rounds into the enemy; starting an immediate fire (the reason
for firing the special ammo).
I ordered hard right rudder and full ahead flank in order to bring our
bow mounted rapid fire battery of two one pound Hotchkiss Rotating
Cannon and an experimental one pound "Pom-Pom" gun to bear. The
sluggish acceleration, which answered this order, was a great
disappointment. The stone, whilst not smashing our hull to bits or
bursting our boiler, had, however, seriously damaged our screw and
steam drive system. Our maximum speed was a mere 6 knots. Now we were
the caught, unable to escape while the Endtime pounded us into
the ground from his superior altitude. I ordered a change to standard
high explosive ammo for the nine pounders, as our lower altitude made
the chance of giving him fires from the starshell rounds very unlikely.
All the rest of the battle, the Oenotrian captain used his altitude
advantage to pour a withering rifle fire onto our decks, wounding man
after man (they were using fine German Mausers, we later found). Once
we got our bows on him, however, the tide of the battle turned. Our
rapid-fire guns proved their worth, making continuous hits into and
through their unarmored hull for the remainder of the action. Our
furious fusillade had an immediate effect, causing a noticeable
slackening in his rate of fire, and causing sufficient hull damage to
bring him down to our altitude. Unfortunately, this just allowed him to
ram us again! With our ship moving only slightly faster than a baby
carriage, we braced for the impact. The hull splintering crash
infuriated us. Again somehow, Petty Officer Hitsman maintained our trim
through the terrible battering. We immediately slipped to low altitude,
with over half our liftwood vanes jammed and otherwise damaged.
Unfortunately, the Endtime barely missed colliding with the
tether mine we had been patiently towing behind us during the
engagement.
The bow battery scored multiple hits, but the enemy's fire continued to
damage our hull. We were barely able to maintain very low altitude at
this point. As one more unlucky hit could have sent us crashing to the
Martian sand below, I ordered the ship to land. We would crouch there,
and pound him on the way in. With luck, we might still damage him
enough to drive him off before he finished us. We continued long range
nine pounder fire as our tormentor turned back toward us.
Unfortunately, firing up about 1200 feet made it very difficult to hit.
At fifteen knots and low altitude, he made his last pass. Our nine
pounders did telling damage. Only the murderous rifle fire was still
emanating from the heavily damaged enemy ship now (after the battle, we
surmised that all his guns were knocked out of action at this point).
Yet still he closed on our crippled ship. We were all but shot down, we
could barely rise the 20 feet needed to keep all three of our aft
battery guns bearing as he came around, our propeller shaft vibrating
wildly with each turn of the damaged screw. Our guns fired madly. I
ordered the ship down again as his heavy guns came into range. If he
did hit us, at least we wouldn't die from gravity.
 |
A group of Royal Navy officers in Syrtis Major including
Lt Cdr Mitchell (fourth from left, with hand in pocket).
|
The nine pounders aft went silent as he crossed above their training
limits. Again the Oenotrian's damnable luck held as he avoided our
tether mine one more time (the hope we placed in that silly tether mine
shows our desperation). He was heavily damaged. We knew that once our
formidable forward battery came to bear, we would shoot him into the
sand. Yet still he came. Then in one flashing second of realization I
knew what the fiendish Oenotrian captain had planned for us; why he had
driven his badly damaged ship over ours, risking certain death after
passing us if his plan failed. He had somehow brought two of the five
hundred-pound stone lob gun shells to the sides of his ship. As he
passed overhead, his crew rolled them through the bulwarks and onto us!
They had to roll them off both sides almost simultaneously - a single
seconds delay on one side would have tipped the ship too far to recover
in the altitude they had left to lose. Their incredible gamble worked.
They continued on, with nothing but a slight lateral rocking to mark
their captain's diabolic audacity.
That my report is being read today, rather than his, is due only to the
incredible luck of the
Viper. Somehow, perhaps due to his having
to dodge the tether mine, those vicious stones he dropped on our
helpless, grounded ship missed. I will never forget the sight of those
huge stones tumbling toward us. As he passed forward, the ship was
totally silent - except for the rattle of the dirt raining down over
everything. Even the wounded were shocked into silence. The stones had
straddled us. They had seemed close enough to touch as they hurtled
past the rails.
Realizing that his guns must have been silenced to try something so
incredibly foolhardy, I ordered the ship up and around to follow as
best we could. It was not necessary. The Oenotrian ship, burning
fiercly, crashed after the fifth or sixth hit from the forward battery.
As we passed over the crash site at our shaky six knots we heard him
still firing! This enemy ship was unbelievable. After the lob gun hit,
the repeated ramming, the murderous rifle fire, and dropping the huge
stones on us, we had shot him down. Yet still they fought on! At this
point, I am sure many of my crew were as worried as I was. What manner
of enemy was this madman? What would it take to make him strike? The
aft battery continued rapid fire as we staggered around. When the ship
came into view, I knew then what had happened. Our light guns had
started a fire that was now raging out of control. The flames were
roaring at least fifty feet high. I rang the cease fire alarm
immediately. We all watched in horror, (well tempered with relief) as
the last of his magazines blew. It was the magazine explosions that we
had heard as we passed ahead of the crash site. We landed to give what
aid we could to the shocked survivors.
Seventeen were taken aboard, half of them severely wounded. Alas, the
enemy captain was not among the survivors. Even though he had caused
the death of two of my men, and wounded eight more of our understrength
nineteen man complement, coming closer to ending my career than any
other enemy I had ever encountered, I was saddened by his death. He had
fought with incredible bravery, incredible tenacity, incredible
cunning, and incredible skill. He had, with little more than luck and
courage, turned a battle that should have been suicide for him into a
near victory.
Some will criticize my words of praise to a hated enemy. I reject that
criticism. I respect this captain as my foe. What glory is there in
defeating an unskilled enemy? Yesterday, many of my newly commissioned
ship's crew were strangers to each other. Today, we have gone through
the fire together. Tomorrow, we will fight as one. We now know what our
ship can do. We can face the best the enemy has to offer, and emerge
victorious - for we did so today.
Lt. Colin Mitchell, RNVR,
Commanding
HMS Viper
Haatt
About the Author
Matthew V. Jessick is a former aerospace engineer. Currently, he works at
Motorsport Simulations (Motorsims) as a vehicle dynamics engineer. He resides in Texas.
This article originally appeared in issue #3 of GDW's "in-house" Space: 1889 'zine, the Ether Society
Newsletter, ©1990. The article is used here with the permission of Mr. Jessick.
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