 |
|
Commander Luigi Rizzo had
already won renown by sinking the battleship Wien in Trieste harbour and by
innumerable other acts of daring
|
| Two of Austria’s four Dreadnoughts of the Viribus Unitis class have been torpedoed in the open sea six miles from an island off her own coast by two tiny Italian motor craft. The first of them received two torpedoes - one immediately below her funnel close to her engines, if not directly into her engine-room, and the second aft near the munition holds. She was seen in a heeled-over position. The second battleship was struck full by another torpedo. |
The man who did it is Commander Luigi Rizzo, a sailor who had already won renown by sinking the battleship Wien in Trieste harbour and by innumerable other acts of daring, recorded and unrecorded, against the Austrian coast or harbours or ships. I saw him a few hours ago. He had come straight from his exploit, and for two nights had had no sleep. But he wore few traces of his fatigue. He was cruising, as usual, off the Dalmatian coast, and in and about among its islands, in one of those motor craft, a flotilla of which he commands. One other boat was with him, commanded by a midshipman named Aonzo. He was just below the island of Lussin, 30 miles south-east of Pola.
The two small craft, which between them had 30 men on board, were quietly going along by the coast when a great column of smoke was seen. “Wondering what it was,” said Commander Rizzo, “I changed my course, and was soon running northward. I could make out in the dim dawn - it was about 3.15 on Sunday, and, strangely, the anniversary of the day of the sinking of the Wien six months ago - that a powerful enemy squadron was approaching. There were two of the Viribus Unitis type, preceded, flanked, and herded by 10 destroyers.
“I said to myself, ‘You’ll never get a chance like this again. You’ve got to go about. it.’ I ordered Aonzo to attack as he thought best, and I made straight for the squadron. They did not see or hear me. When I judged that the moment had come, I slipped in between the second and third of the escorting destroyers. As I passed the former caught sight of me, and alarm whistles were blown violently. She began firing, but her shells passed over us. I was already through the line and at a distance of between 400 and 600 feet.
“I let go my torpedoes. One struck on a level with the funnels; the second struck farther aft, but also exploded with full force.”
There was Commander Rizzo inside the Austrian line in a motor-boat, with his torpedoes gone and weaponless. So at least the second Austrian destroyer seems to have judged, for it turned to run him down. But he had another resource left - two depth charges. Judging in an instant the speed of his own little vessel and that of the destroyer, he flung one in. It did not explode. Another lightning calculation and in went the second.
“I saw the destroyer lift in the sea,” he says, “and roll like a drunken man.” She was badly hit, and in the gap, though the third oncoming destroyer tried to ram him, Commander Rizzo slipped away. The whole thing had not lasted more than 20 minutes.
Meanwhile Aonzo’s boat had in its turn sidled up to the rear of the convoy and fired its two torpedoes at a second Viribus Unitis. The first slipped past her bows the second hit her full towards the stern. As she launched her shot those in Aonzo’s boat saw the first battleship heeling over deeply. Aonzo’s boat sped away after its companion. There was a little desultory firing in their direction, but they were not pursued.
Sixteen hours later Italian aircraft flying over the scene saw masses of wreckage drifting away towards the, north of the Adriatic. That so much wreckage should have been seen so long after may confirm the loss of a big vessel. The damaged destroyer was seen earlier being towed back to Pola, so the wreckage did not come from her. Aircraft that have visited Pola report that there is now only one Dreadnought there where once there were four. [A Viribus Unitis was recently torpedoed at Pola.]
Rizzo is a Sicilian of simple and unassuming manner. As a merchant captain he has been all over the world.
“I said to myself, ‘You’ll never get a chance like this again. You’ve got to go about. it.’ I ordered Aonzo to attack as he thought best, and I made straight for the squadron. They did not see or hear me. When I judged that the moment had come, I slipped in between the second and third of the escorting destroyers. As I passed the former caught sight of me, and alarm whistles were blown violently. She began firing, but her shells passed over us. I was already through the line and at a distance of between 400 and 600 feet.
“I let go my torpedoes. One struck on a level with the funnels; the second struck farther aft, but also exploded with full force.”
“I saw the destroyer lift in the sea,” he says, “and roll like a drunken man.” She was badly hit, and in the gap, though the third oncoming destroyer tried to ram him, Commander Rizzo slipped away. The whole thing had not lasted more than 20 minutes.
Meanwhile Aonzo’s boat had in its turn sidled up to the rear of the convoy and fired its two torpedoes at a second Viribus Unitis. The first slipped past her bows the second hit her full towards the stern. As she launched her shot those in Aonzo’s boat saw the first battleship heeling over deeply. Aonzo’s boat sped away after its companion. There was a little desultory firing in their direction, but they were not pursued.
Sixteen hours later Italian aircraft flying over the scene saw masses of wreckage drifting away towards the, north of the Adriatic. That so much wreckage should have been seen so long after may confirm the loss of a big vessel. The damaged destroyer was seen earlier being towed back to Pola, so the wreckage did not come from her. Aircraft that have visited Pola report that there is now only one Dreadnought there where once there were four. [A Viribus Unitis was recently torpedoed at Pola.]
Rizzo is a Sicilian of simple and unassuming manner. As a merchant captain he has been all over the world.
 |
|
Last night there were
hundreds of people standing between the Doge's Palace and the gleaming
lagoon, to look at the red flashes of anti-aircraft shell along the Piave
front
|
| The population that had departed is now, since the victory of the Piave, gradually drifting back to Venice, in spite of a slight renewal of activity by Austrian airmen after a lapse of seven months. Over ten thousand of the people who went away have already returned, and the bath season has started again at the Lido, which is the island seashore of Venice. It must be the oddest seaside place In Europe, for the big bathing establishment which used in peace time to be a parade ground for the most daring bathing costumes which the taste of feminine visitors from Austria and Hungary could devise, now lies in the midst of the Lido defences against an enemy landing. The sand is dug and revetted into trenches, and a thick barbed-wire entanglement runs right across the part of the beach where bathers bask in the sun after their swim. The Venetians seem not to notice it, though, nor yet to hear the guns growling away at the mouth of the Piave, a few miles along the coast. |
It is odd, to see this throng of people in bright bathing costumes, sitting under gay sun-umbrellas with that belt of sinister barbed wire passing among them, and sentries with fixed bayonets watching their water-frolics from each corner of the enclosure and from boats around. Sometimes even the Venetians are obliged to take these pleasures seriously, for there are notices in each dressing cabin that the sentries have orders to fire on any bather going beyond the limits of water fixed for the establishment, and since the season opened they have already recalled three or four heedless swimmers by sending a bullet to splash up the water beside them. As one leaves the bathing place, too, there is a scrutiny by military, police to be undergone, perhaps to defeat any attempt by the Austrians to land troops disguised as bathers.
Few places in a war-zone can be more agreeable than is Venice now. On these warm evenings when the Grand Canal Is flooded with the silver twilight of a brilliant moon, the Piazzetta is fuller at midnight than at noon. Last night there were hundreds of people standing between the Doge’s Palace and the gleaming lagoon, to look at the red flashes of anti-aircraft shell along the Piave front where Italian machines were bombing the enemy trenches. Lovers walked hand in hand among the throng, or leant over the marble bridges, watching the black gondolas with their prows of gleaming steel dip and sway in graceful nonchalance to the wash of a passing motor-boat bearing white-clothed naval officers. Children were playing ring-games with their bare legs gleaming in the pale light, and outside the colonnades of St Mark’s Square, which have been built up with sandbags into air-raid shelters, there were dozens of little tables at which sat Venetians eating ices and hardly hearing the accustomed rumble of the Piave guns.
A dreamy spell seemed to rest on the whole city, deepened rather than broken by the droning call of the aircraft look-outs from their platforms on the roofs of the highest palaces, as at regular intervals they confirmed their watch by chanting through megaphones like some supernatural muezzin the wailing cry, “Nell’aria buona gardia.” In the air, good watch.
Few places in a war-zone can be more agreeable than is Venice now. On these warm evenings when the Grand Canal Is flooded with the silver twilight of a brilliant moon, the Piazzetta is fuller at midnight than at noon. Last night there were hundreds of people standing between the Doge’s Palace and the gleaming lagoon, to look at the red flashes of anti-aircraft shell along the Piave front where Italian machines were bombing the enemy trenches. Lovers walked hand in hand among the throng, or leant over the marble bridges, watching the black gondolas with their prows of gleaming steel dip and sway in graceful nonchalance to the wash of a passing motor-boat bearing white-clothed naval officers. Children were playing ring-games with their bare legs gleaming in the pale light, and outside the colonnades of St Mark’s Square, which have been built up with sandbags into air-raid shelters, there were dozens of little tables at which sat Venetians eating ices and hardly hearing the accustomed rumble of the Piave guns.
A dreamy spell seemed to rest on the whole city, deepened rather than broken by the droning call of the aircraft look-outs from their platforms on the roofs of the highest palaces, as at regular intervals they confirmed their watch by chanting through megaphones like some supernatural muezzin the wailing cry, “Nell’aria buona gardia.” In the air, good watch.
 |
|
As the cruiser was again
turning into the firing position another torpedo, coming too late to be
avoided, struck her forward. Her wheel went in the explosion that followed,
along with some 40ft of her forepart
|
| I am able to give some particulars of the attack on Durazzo, the Albanian port, made under Italian command by the combined Allied naval forces. The expedition included three Italian battle. ships and three British cruisers. These crossed the Adriatic in line ahead, the battleships leading, with British minesweepers, Italian, British, and American destroyers and “chasers” ahead, and destroyers and other lighter vessels on the flanks and rear. |
The Adriatic was crossed without incident. There was a strong wind and a rather heavy swell. Admiral Count Thaon di Revel, commanding the Allied forces in the Adriatic, was in the leading Italian battleship, which flew the Gagliardetti, or pennants of St George of Genoa and St Mark of Venice, in remembrance of the ancient maritime supremacy of the Genoese and Venetian Republics over those shores of the Eastern Adriatic which the squadron was about to attack. Advancing behind its screen of sweepers, the flagship approached within about 11,000 yards of Durazzo and then turned southwards, parallel with,the coast, and fired its broadside, and each succeeding ship fired a broadside and passed on, the minesweepers making a path for them. The Austrian batteries replied courageously to the squadron’s fire, but their shells either fell short or too far. No doubt the pounding they were receiving from 10in and lesser guns afloat played havoc with the artillerymen’s aim.
As a cruiser, the rearmost of the six, came into position for her broadside she saw the trail of a torpedo from a submarine approaching her. Immediately the captain swung his ship round and saved her from the impact. As the cruiser was again turning into the firing position another torpedo, coming too late to be avoided, struck her forward. Her wheel went in the explosion that followed, along with some 40ft of her forepart. The cruiser, steering by the alternate use of her engines, was brought into line, and let fly at Durazzo, “as arranged.” But the submarines, for there were two, that had fired at him fired no more at anything else. A swarm of some 15 or 16 American and British chasers and other light vessels scurried down upon them, and between them disposed of both, for they were not sufficiently submerged to escape depth charges dropped on them.
ENEMY DESTROYERS SUNK
While aeroplanes were dropping bombs over Durazzo, a group of four “MAS” (the Italian contraction for Motoccarfi anti Sommergibili - anti-submarine launches), 28ft launches, with one of which Rizzo sank the battleship Szent Istvan, went within 900 yards of the quayside, in the centre of Durazzo, under Commander Bertonelli. On his way in, Bertonelli saw an Austrian vessel escaping from the harbour and made for her. But as he came close he saw she bore the Red Cross on her sides, and, recognizing her as a hospital ship, with a wave of the hand to her he bore away. Immediately after he saw two Austrian destroyers and a torpedo-boat close in under the quayside. They were trying to slip out of the harbour, but the launches, turning straight for them, fired several torpedoes. One destroyer was struck amidships and sank almost at once. The torpedo-boat, badly hit, ran herself ashore to avoid sinking. The third vessel got out, only to find that two British destroyers were waiting outside for just such contingencies.
One of the MAS launches crossed the harbour, and attacked and torpedoed a large Austrian armed transport. Another transport which the launch saw was a complete wreck, and grounded on her side. Meanwhile Bertonelli had received an Austrian shell in the midst of his small craft, but, by wonderful luck, no damage to speak of was done. After an hour, the Austrian reply having ceased, the squadron left, and aerial reconnaissance carried out five hours later reported Durazzo as destroyed. All the sheds, depots, naval docks - everything that had a wall to crumble or a structure to break - appeared to be in ruins. The Konak, the palace of Prince William of Wied, exists no longer.
There are in Durazzo, of course, many deep refuges and caverns where the Austrians were accustomed to retire from air raids, but when the reconnaissance was made the aeroplane, which came down low, had not a single shot fired at it, nor could the observer detect a living soul moving amid the destruction. While the Durazzo attack was in progress, Italian and British forces waited outside Cattaro in case the remnant of the Austrian Fleet ventured out, but, despite the boast of the Austrian Minister of Marine that if the Austrian ports were touched by Allied forces the Austrian Fleet would sally out in defence, no vessel appeared.
ENEMY DESTROYERS SUNK
While aeroplanes were dropping bombs over Durazzo, a group of four “MAS” (the Italian contraction for Motoccarfi anti Sommergibili - anti-submarine launches), 28ft launches, with one of which Rizzo sank the battleship Szent Istvan, went within 900 yards of the quayside, in the centre of Durazzo, under Commander Bertonelli. On his way in, Bertonelli saw an Austrian vessel escaping from the harbour and made for her. But as he came close he saw she bore the Red Cross on her sides, and, recognizing her as a hospital ship, with a wave of the hand to her he bore away. Immediately after he saw two Austrian destroyers and a torpedo-boat close in under the quayside. They were trying to slip out of the harbour, but the launches, turning straight for them, fired several torpedoes. One destroyer was struck amidships and sank almost at once. The torpedo-boat, badly hit, ran herself ashore to avoid sinking. The third vessel got out, only to find that two British destroyers were waiting outside for just such contingencies.
There are in Durazzo, of course, many deep refuges and caverns where the Austrians were accustomed to retire from air raids, but when the reconnaissance was made the aeroplane, which came down low, had not a single shot fired at it, nor could the observer detect a living soul moving amid the destruction. While the Durazzo attack was in progress, Italian and British forces waited outside Cattaro in case the remnant of the Austrian Fleet ventured out, but, despite the boast of the Austrian Minister of Marine that if the Austrian ports were touched by Allied forces the Austrian Fleet would sally out in defence, no vessel appeared.
No comments:
Post a Comment