Claus Lafrenz
Claus Lafrenz was regarded highly in the
Marinekorps Flandern, in which he served, but is not particularly well
known otherwise. He had not arrived in Belgium until the autumn of 1916, but
through to when he was captured just over a year later, had been very
successful.
He had been born in Burgstaaken, on the
Baltic Island of Fehmarn, in 1887: a son of the mayor of Burg and a major
landowner. Unlike most of his contemporaries, he was university educated, in
Grenoble, France and Edinburgh, Scotland, although he does not seem to have
attained any degree. In explanation, the young man had wished to join the Kaiserliche
Marine, but his father was against it. So, he was funded for eighteen
months travelling in Europe, but on returning home was still adamant about a
naval career. Acquiescing, he became a Seekadett in April 1907 at the age of
19 and passed out second in his entry. Incidentally, he was in the same entry
(Crew) as Otto Steinbrinck that he
served closely with later in the Marinekorps Flandern. After training
he was on ‘big ships’, but in 1912 shifted to torpedo-boats in the Baltic and
North Sea. Having been a watch officer, in time he became a staff officer for
the II Torpedo Flotilla and was at the epic Battle of Skagerrak
(known to the British as Jutland). After submarine training, he relieved
Steinbrinck in Flanders on 27-28th October 1916, taking command of UB18.
This was the first of the improved UB II-class.
On his first patrol off the Hoofden from
November 9th to 11th, Oberleutnant zur See Lafrenz gained no ‘victories’, but
six neutrals were searched. Also, Steinbrinck was onboard, supervising
Lafrenz on this training patrol. However, in the English Channel from
November 22nd to December 5th, Lafrenz, in command proper, was more
successful. A tiny French fishing smack, Kendrick, on the 23rd was his
first sinking off Le Treport. Nothing more has been found on this.
A Norwegian
steamer, Øifjeld, was the next and more is known about this
action about ten miles northwest of Pointe d’Ailly on the 24th. According to
the German official history she was carrying coal from England for France.
This is at variance with a Norwegian account that states that she was bound
for Boulogne, northern France, from Bilbao, Spain, with iron ore. In the late
evening darkness, shots were heard and a submarine was seen a mile astern.
The first signal made was unclear but understood by the merchantman’s master
to stop, which he did. This was followed by the order to ‘abandon the vessel
as fast as possible’: the then international flag-hoist A over B. The
Norwegians having done so hurriedly and pulled away in two boats, Lafrenz
torpedoed her in her starboard side close to where her aft machine-gun
was mounted. Those in the lifeboats were picked up by a fishing-boat and a
patrol-boat. No one had been seen on the submarine’s bridge, or casing. It
looks as if Lafrenz sank this neutral in this way because she was armed.
During the morning watch of the 25th an
engine defect on a small British steamer, Emlynverne, reduced her
speed by half and she strove to make for safety in St. Helen’s Roads, Isle of
Wight. At 10.15 a.m., around 30 miles northwest of Cape Antifer, she had to
stop though. Unfortunately, in this condition she was intercepted by UB18 that
was then two miles astern. Some shots had been fired, but the submarine was
not seen until mist cleared. Of interesting note, UB18 had been
disguised with a large spritsail, but seems to have lowered it before
approaching the Emlynverne’s port quarter. A over B was signalled, but
while the crew was abandoning UB18 opened accurate fire on the vessel.
The little merchantman succumbed at 10.40 a.m. and the submarine, with sail
rigged again, made off towards another steamer. The Emlynverne’s crew
managed to get to Eastbourne, East Sussex, after 10 p.m., by their own
efforts. Two of them had been injured very slightly by splinters.
No
further sinkings have been recorded for this submarine on November 25th, but
it is known that at 7.30 a.m. on the 27th a shot was heard onboard another
Norwegian steamer, Perra and seemingly anticipating the situation, she
stopped. In developing his tactics, on UB18 approaching, Lafrenz had
T.A.F. run up - ‘Bring your papers on
board’. So, the lifeboat went alongside the submarine and after study of the
said documents, Lafrenz declared the cargo contraband. Keeping the papers (for
putting before a German prize court), the lifeboat returned to the Perra
with a German party that placed two charges onboard. The demolition party
having been returned to UB18 and the merchantman’s crew using the
lifeboat to abandon ship, on detonation the Perra sank in five
minutes. UB18 then towed the lifeboat towards Cherbourg for 45
minutes, before slipping it and diving. They were picked up by a British
steamer, Fishpool, at 1 p.m.
The next merchantman encountered by UB18
was another Norwegian, Børo that was around 20 miles northwest of
Guernsey. A warning shot was heard from port at 1 p.m. and a submarine seen
half a cable (approximately 100 yards) away: trimmed down so only her conning
tower was visible. Surfacing properly, A over B was hoisted and generally,
the same destructive procedures were carried out. But, since she was far
larger than the others so far, she was scuttled. Towing the Børo’s lifeboats, they
were slipped prematurely after about 30 minutes, as another steamer had been
spied.
It was a Briton, Rhona that had
come to the Germans’ attention. UB18 was also seen broad on the
merchantman’s port bow about half a mile distant. A shot was fired across her
bows and having settled on the A over B flag hoist, the Rhona was
abandoned and sunk as previously. On this occasion, perhaps because the
survivors were not neutrals, the two lifeboats were left to make for Guernsey
themselves. It was not until the following forenoon that they were rescued
off St. Peter’s Port, by a fishing-boat. One of the merchant mariners
reported that UB18’s forefoot was damaged. Also, the demolition party
had removed the ship’s patent log.
The next day a tiny French
sailing-vessel and a fair-sized Spanish steamer were destroyed. Six more
vessels suffered similar fates on the 30th. Two were small French
sailing-vessels; one was a Danish steamer; and two more were Norwegian
steamers: one of which was the real Aud.
The sixth was a small British schooner, Christabel
that was about twelve miles off Pendeen, on the northern Cornish Coast,
during the forenoon. UB18 that was then around half a mile away, may
have been disguised with a sail again. On approaching the sailing-vessel, one
warning shot was fired across her bow and she hove to. The flag signal that
was not understood was thought to have been flown either from the submarine’s
periscope, or a small mast on her conning tower. A second shot resulted in
her boat going over to see what the submarine wanted! In their questioning of
the Christabel’’s crew, Claus Lafrenz was said to have spoken ‘very
good English’ and both he and his crew had been ‘civil and quiet in
behaviour’. No attempt was made to tow the survivors’ lifeboat on this
occasion, as UB18 went off to destroy a large steamship nearby.
Still in the outer reaches of the
Bristol Channel on December 1st, UB18 sank four more small
sailing-vessels: two French and two British ketch-rigged fishing smacks. No
resistance of any kind was put up by the crew of the E.L.G. during the
forenoon, when destroyed about 25 miles northwest of Trevose Head. An action
that afternoon was rather different though. In the same area, the submarine
was seen about three miles off the T. & A.C. on her starboard bow
and having closed to around a quarter of a mile, three rounds were fired:
damaging her mainsail. A steamship was also in sight and the submarine opened
fire on her, but this was returned and UB18 dived. Surfacing about 15
minutes later, the by then usual attention was then paid on the T. &
A.C. – with the predictable results. In both cases, the smacks’ crews
made land safely.
On passage back to her Belgian base and
rounding the Scilly Isles, a Norwegian steamer, Skjoldulf, was sunk 26
miles off the Longships Lightvessel on December 2nd. However, Lafrenz also
came upon a three-masted schooner later that day. Making a signal instructing
her to heave to and firing two warning shots as normal, the sailing-vessel
took no apparent notice. Approaching cautiously and prudently, UB18’s
casing and bridge was cleared, in case diving in emergency was required. This
inexperienced commander had been perfectly correct to be suspicious of the
poop superstructure, as panels fell away the vessel’s twelve-pounder gun and
seemingly also one of her six-pounders opened fire, while UB18 dived.
H.M. Decoy Ship Mary B. Mitchell (Q9) then continued on her way, while
Lafrenz attempted, but failed, to torpedo her.
Three merchant vessels were destroyed by
UB18 on the 3rd. One was a Danish steamer, Yrsa, at a time and
in a location as yet undiscovered. The other two were tiny British
sailing-vessels. The Seeker was a schooner that was said to have been
30 miles northwest of the Les Hanois Lightvessel, Guernsey at 7.30 a.m., when
a vessel was observed about half a mile on her port bow with a lug-sail set.
Twenty minutes later the sail was ‘dropped’ and the usual routine was carried
out. The other was a ketch named Mizpah that was stated as 30 miles
south-south-east of the Eddystone Lighthouse, Devon, at 10 a.m. Unusually, UB18
had been dived and surfaced 150 yards on the ketch’s port quarter. The
initial flag hoist was taken as a French ensign onboard the ketch. Although A
over B has the same colours, it is difficult to see how it could have been
confused for a French tricolour. Anyway, a shot overhead concentrated minds
and the Mizpah was dealt with in the usual manner. Some items were removed by the submarine’s demolition
party. One was a red ensign that may have been a souvenir, or alternatively,
for potential future use as a ruse de guerre. The preserved meat, jam
and butter taken was probably because they were, by then, short of food
onboard, although it was common practice to supplement their boring diet
anyway.
UB18 navigated the Straits of
Dover on the night of December 4-5th. On the surface in moonlight, H.M.
Destroyer Llewelyn sighted her and made a depth-charge attack. On the
boat diving, she struck the net-barrage, but managed to get free.
So, having survived his first patrol,
Claus Lafrenz had mastered much of the ‘Trade’ as it applied to these small
boats. Apart from using a torpedo on the Øifjeld, his expenditure of shells and charges was very
measured. Having made his point through warning shots, the crews of these
vessels were given minimal time to abandon ship – five minutes. It was
mentioned variously that survivors were not even able to take their spare
clothes with them. This will have been to minimise the danger of being overwhelmed
while destroying his targets and the two-man demolition parties can be seen
to have been experienced and skilled.
Lafrenz’s next patrol, after Christmas
alongside, was substantially different and his attitude towards the mariners
he encountered was sometimes less gentlemanly. Sailing on December 27th for
the South West Approaches, two medium-sized Norwegian steamers (generally
known as thousand-tonners), carrying coal from Swansea for France, were sunk
four days later. The former was the Flora that was held-up during the
forenoon. On this occasion, unusually twenty minutes were given to abandon
ship and those in the lifeboats witnessed their vessel’s demise. She was
shelled, but because she would not sink, a torpedo was put into her. The weather was heavy, so the master took
the lifeboats back to the submarine and requested to be towed near the shore,
but no response was received. Towards the end of the afternoon watch the Eva
then came to the attention of UB18. The tone in this attack appears to
have been far sharper.
Another two Norwegian steamers were held
up and sunk on 2nd January 1917, while the submarine was operating between 30
and 40 miles southwest of the Bishop Rock. It was late in the forenoon when
the Ellik, carrying pitprops, was warned and stopped. On being told
that his command was to be destroyed, the merchantman’s master protested
about the distance to land and Lafrenz was reported as stating that there was
a patrol-boat about five miles away, but that he would tow the lifeboats as
close as he could. Possibly through inexperience, UB18 adopted a speed
too fast for the two lifeboats and they had to slip their tows. Also, the
demolition party stole fresh food from onboard the Ellik and also both
of the lifeboats. About seven hours later the Bestik, with a cargo of
coal, was also intercepted. According to a Norwegian report, there had been
an agreement that the submarine would tow the lifeboats this time as well,
but after securing to a cable, they were slipped again. A promise was also
said to have been given that UB18 would return and conduct the tow,
but after 30 minutes alone the survivors set sail. All four merchantmen’s crews were adrift
for not inconsiderable periods: but there were no fatalities reported.
On January 3rd there was a brush with
another Q-ship, but UB18 had no torpedoes left to make an underwater
attack. This is intriguing. If she had sailed with a full load of four, they
must all have been expended in finishing off these steamers that were, after
all, much larger than most sunk on his first patrol. If she sailed
with a lighter load of torpedoes though, a question as to why might be asked.
While off Guernsey on the 4th a
medium-sized Danish steamer, Naesborg, with coal, was sunk. And, a day
later ten miles off Ushant, the Daenevirke, another medium-sized
Danish steamer carrying coal, was also consigned to the deep: with no
fatalities. No detailed information on these two latter attacks has been
located.
To understand Claus Lafrenz’s next
patrol, the attacks on the smaller vessels should be divorced from the two
large ones. Sailing on January 30th for the Southwest Approaches again, a
tiny British ketch, Wellhome, was encountered at the mouth of the
River Orne, about 35 miles N.N.W. of Ouistreham (the port of Caen), at 9 p.m.
on February 1st. Three or four shells, at a range of two miles, carried away
her mizzen mast and shrouds, with other minor damage to her upper deck, but
as the demolition party was leaving UB18 a British destroyer hove into
sight and this was abandoned: with the submarine diving. So, the sailormen
re-boarded their ketch and jury-rigged a sail, arriving in Ouistreham about 8
p.m. the following day. Further westward off Brittany, three small sailing-vessels,
Confiante, Goeland and Sainte Marie, two of which had
cargoes of coal, were sunk on the 3rd.
As far as the German official history
was concerned, Lafrenz torpedoed an unidentified steamer during the evening
of January 3rd, at the ‘western exit of the Channel’ that might have been the
Dane, Lars Kruse. The following
morning, before daylight, he also sank a larger steamer with one torpedo that
transpired to be the Cerera. She was a Russian, in British service,
but on French account, shifting 5,000 tons of coal from Newcastle to Brest
for the French Navy.
The Lars Kruse had been in the
service of the Commission for Relief in Belgium, with over 2,300 tons of maize
and was about 20 miles off the coast of Ushant that fateful evening. Later,
the sole survivor of 18, her chief engineer named Moller (or Möller) spoke of
his experience that explained much. He had been asleep when the torpedo
struck and did not manage to get into a lifeboat before she sank - in three
minutes. Sucked down by the ship, when he reached the surface again, he
joined six others ‘clinging to the overturned lifeboat’. Overnight, they
died, one by one, but he clung on until 2 p.m. the following day, when he was
taken onboard a German submarine. Two hours later, after the usual
questioning by the commander that was said to have suggested that the Lars
Kruse may have been sunk by a mine, the engineer was put into one of the Cerera’s
full lifeboats. The officer that must have been Lafrenz, as it was
known that he had also sunk the second merchantman, had promised the Cerera’s
master that he would tow these survivors’ boats to shore. But, for some
unknown reason they were ‘left adrift’ until 6 p.m., when a French
torpedo-boat picked all the survivors up.
Also, missing from the German official
history was an incident that according to a British intelligence report,
occurred on February 5th. A transport on trooping duties between Southampton
and France, Mona’s Queen, rammed UB18, but the latter was not
damaged badly.
Anyway, even if the neutral nations
were not deterred greatly from trading with the British after the newly
reimposed campaign of almost entirely unrestricted submarine warfare, there
was a dearth of neutral hulls in the English Channel in the spring and early
summer of 1917. This can be seen from UB18’s ‘victories’.
Sailing on February 27th for this
boat’s next patrol, she was to operate in the eastern English Channel to the
limit of the Isle of Wight this time. Returning to the coastal waters off
Cape Antifer, a small British brigantine, Harriet Williams, carrying
pitch, was approached at noon a day later. The usual routine of sinking with
charges, with minor variations, was carried out. Of interest, the only direct
threat came from a single rifle shot. It was noted that UB18 not only
looked old, but also ‘very rusty’. Shifting roughly northwest towards the
middle of the English Channel, UB18 intercepted a French coal-trade
convoy at 9 p.m. on March 1st. The Chatburn, almost grossing
two-thousand tons, was the lead collier of five, escorted by H.M.
Armed-Minesweeping Trawler Willonyx. Almost on the Chatburn’s
port beam at 500 yards, surfaced but trimmed down, Lafrenz sank her with one
torpedo that struck midships. Immediately after, two shots were fired at the
submarine and she seems to have departed.
All, including two injured, were rescued by Willonyx. This
patrol was cut short, as in an attack during the evening of the 4th the
steamer tried to ram UB18, damaging her periscope.
Venturing back out on March 10th, she was to operate off the French coast,
particularly in the Baie de Seine. Minutes after 1 a.m. on the 12th, while
roughly 27 miles from Cape Barfleur, a small British steamer, Topaz,
in ballast and bound from Honfleur for Port Talbot, was torpedoed midships.
She sank in four minutes and it was not until the crew was mustered in the
lifeboats that it was discovered that there had been three fatalities. They
were the second engineer, one fireman and the steward. Two more were injured
slightly. The rest of the vessels destroyed on this patrol were small sailing
vessels, one Briton, Sir Joseph and four French. Confusingly, three
were named Marie Louise.
Lafrenz’s next patrol, probably after maintenance, but not external
painting and possibly leave, was seen in German terms as very
successful. Leaving her base on April 28th, UB18 came under air attack
from four Allied aircraft, with machine-gun fire and bombs, while approaching
the Dover Straits. Returning to her recent area of operations, southwest of
Boulogne early on May 1st, an attack on what was assessed as a coastal convoy
was carried out. Two torpedoes were fired into the ten steamers that were
escorted by French armed-trawlers and perhaps, also motorboats. Two hits were
registered, one on the British steamer C.A. Jaques that sank in four
minutes, killing three and the other on a vessel unidentified. She was
another British steamer, Haslingden, but the torpedo missed.
At midnight of the 1st, in moonlight, Lafrenz made his next torpedo
attack while dived, on a medium-sized, defensively-armed British transport, Juno,
just after her master had taken a four-point bearing on Cape Barfleur Light.
According to the engineer on watch, the torpedo entered her engine-room on
the starboard side, below the waterline, carrying away her propellor-shaft
and exited by the port side, without detonating. She sank by the stern in
three minutes and there was the one fatality – surprisingly, the steward. The
Juno’s survivors witnessed the results of Lafrenz’s attack on another
defensively-armed British transport, Tela, at 0.14 a.m. on May 2nd.
She was a substantial vessel of 7,627 g.r.t., on French government service,
then in ballast and was proceeding at 17 knots when the torpedo struck her
aft on her port side at the waterline. Struggling on, she managed to steam another
five miles before succumbing, but at least all of her 79-crew managed to
abandon her safely. Both vessels’ survivors were rescued by naval craft
within hours. Having expended her torpedoes, UB18 was back in her base
the following day. UB18
was ordered even further westwards the next time she went to sea. Sailing on
May 9th, while about ten miles northwest of Le Havre an action began at 3.45
a.m. on the 11th. It would appear that
UB18 began chasing a small British steamer, Tarpiea, stopping
her at 4.30 a.m., with the usual routine: resulting in her destruction by
charges fifteen minutes later. There are a few complications though. A word
in the official German account (Gewehrschüße) can be translated as
rifle-shots, or possibly gunshots and in the original British reports, four
shrapnel shells were mentioned. And, a second submarine was also
mentioned in the British reports. So,
it may have been that UB18 and UB36 left Zeebrugge together and
were in company for the first few days, or that they both came to be in the
same area in the early hours of May 11th separately. UB36 was lost ten
days later. If so, it may have been that UB18 only used rifle-fire and
it was UB36 that used her gun. Anyway, the Tarpiea’s crew was
picked up, unharmed, by the French destroyer Pertuisane an hour later.
At noon on the 14th a tiny topsail-schooner, Elizabeth Hampton,
was off the southern coast of the Isle of Wight, when UB18 surfaced very
close (about 50 yards) then circled around her stern. The schooner’s master,
William Tate, put her helm down, but Lafrenz did not consider it necessary to
use any physical violence in stopping his target. Items were removed
by the demolition party, in the form of the master’s clock and barometer, as
well as the ship’s bell and a ‘basketful of provisions’. Interestingly, the foodstuffs were stated
as ‘sugar, peas and quaker oats’. On the Elizabeth Hampton’s
destruction, the lifeboat set sail and her crew were picked up by a destroyer
about 20 minutes later.
A day later, a Greek steamer of over 3,000 tons, Panaghi
Lykirdopulo, was intercepted, stopped and sunk, west of Roches Douvres
Lighthouse, Côtes-du-Nord. On charter to the Italian government, she had been
shipping 5,700 tons of coal to Genoa.
During the evening of the 17th, while north of Cape de la Hague,
another small sailing-vessel was sighted at least at a distance of 2,000
meters. Since the crew did not abandon ship, Lafrenz took his boat down to
periscope-depth. It was not until she had closed to 200 meters, or so that
three men abandoned the sailing-vessel and even although she had a larger
deckhouse than usual, Lafrenz did not regard her as suspicious. Surfacing, she came under immediate fire
from a 12-pounder and a 3-pounder. Diving in emergency, UB II-boats being
particularly rapid divers (apparently twenty seconds), UB18 sustained
no damage. On taking stock, she re-surfaced and engaged in combat with H.M.
Decoy Vessel Glen, until nightfall.
Sailing next on the last day of May, she was, once again, in an
indecisive combat with a British decoy-vessel on June 3rd. Although there are
significant reported differences in the position that this occurred in
the various accounts, it is relatively safe to conclude that this gun-action
took place about 20 miles southwest of Beachy Head, East Sussex. Sarah
Colebrooke, a small motor-ketch, had been requisitioned and commissioned
recently and was operating as the Bolham, or more likely Balham.
Near misses were distinctly uncomfortable for the decoy vessel, but one round
inflicted ‘considerable’ damage.
Working westwards, a small Dutch schooner, Cornelia, was sunk
west of Jersey three days later. No casualties are known of.
Three Brixham smacks were sunk by UB18 during the dog-watches
of June 8th, seven or eight miles off Start Point, Devon. Becalmed, with
visibility reduced due to a haze, they were all out of sight of land.
Consequently, there was little that the dozen fishermen could do. In light of
recent contact with decoy-vessels, Lafrenz had both the safety of his own
command and the control of the fishermen to contend with. It would appear
that the first smack to see UB18 was the Ocean’s Pride, when
she surfaced one mile to the south: but remained trimmed down until it was
determined that these craft constituted no threat. One shell was fired overhead, another ahead
and a third astern of the Ocean’s Pride. On manoeuvring closer and
around her another round was put into the smack’s standing and running
rigging and it was only at that point that the crew abandoned ship and began
pulling away. Lafrenz had long since given up making signal hoists that seem
not infrequently not to have been understood. So, it is obvious that in order
to have the smack’s boat stop, another four or five rounds were expended.
Saliently, as soon as the fishermen stopped, the firing also stopped.
Therefore, it is hardly likely that the gun’s crew was aiming at the
fishermen, as they thought. The Onward was also in the vicinity and
her crew had abandoned rapidly, after two rounds were said to have been fired
at her. UB18 went alongside the Ocean’s Pride’s boat and then
the Onward’s. The latter was then pressed into service and towed
behind UB18 (minus two of the fishermen put onboard the submarine
temporarily), for use by their demolition party. On completion, a not
dissimilar evolution was carried out on the Torbay Lass that was about
three miles eastward. After a round ahead and astern, this smack’s skipper
had his crew abandon her, but lie alongside, until a rifle-shot overhead was
regarded as an order to pull away: which they did. On the Torbay Lass’s
demolition, the Onward’s boat returned to UB18, where the two
fishermen rejoined their comrades and the submarine left the scene on the
surface going west. All the fishermen were rescued soon after by another
Brixham smack, Prevalent and landed back at their base port.
Yet another Brixham smack, Cariad, was sunk by UB18 that
day, slightly later and a few miles to the west of where the Ocean’s Pride
and Onward had been drifting along in the marginal westerly
swell. UB18 was first sighted
in the east at 7.30 p.m., proceeding slowly. It is worth pointing out that
numerous other smacks were also visible to those onboard the Cariad.
Three rounds were fired, before she was abandoned. During the interrogation
phase, the German officer conducting it was sympathetic to the skipper-owner’s
plight. He also said that while he did not know Brixham, he knew Topsham
‘very well’, having been on a coaster for eighteen months. So, he must have
been a reservist. Anyway, about fifteen minutes after this destructive
routine was concluded, the Cariad’s crew was retrieved by a
patrol-trawler and deposited on the Prevalent. Two British
torpedo-boats and/or destroyers had also appeared on the scene, asked the Cariad’s
skipper where the German submarine was last and then disappeared off into the
fog. The next day, June 9th, a small
auxiliary-powered ketch, Majorie, was sunk by UB18, thirty
miles from the Lizard, Cornwall. The submarine had been first sighted at 2
p.m., as she surfaced trimmed down and moved rapidly. Apparently, UB18
opened fire at a range of four, or five, miles. Four rounds were fired every
three minutes - 200 yards short, 50 yards over then 200 yards short twice.
After the first shot the Marjorie’s master ordered her stopped and
boat out. The second seems to have been to make the crew abandon ship, with
further encouragement with the third and fourth. As previously, the
demolition party liberated various items, including all brass fittings and
tools. It would appear that the removal of non-ferrous artifacts was official
policy: an indication of shortages for German industry if there ever was one.
It was also said that there was an unsuccessful attempt to remove the Marjorie’s
auxiliary motor. Intriguingly, it was also claimed that one-hundred cigars
were taken by the submarine’s ‘commander’, but it not really known which
officer was involved. In the interrogation, questions were asked about the
political situation in Britain, with the German officer opining that the war
would end with Lloyd George’s fall from power. On releasing the Marjorie’s
crew, they were left with bread and water. This will have been of worth as
they were adrift for eighteen hours: before being rescued by a patrol-craft
of some sort and landed at Falmouth. UB18
then returned to base, arriving on June 14th, via the Baie de Seine.
According to the German official history, ‘several’ failed attacks were
mounted ‘against steamers with escorts of destroyers’ over the nights of the
11th and 12th.
Lafrenz’s last patrol on UB18 began on June 28th, tasked to the
central English Channel, but the only attack shown in the official history
was on July 5th. This was in the sinking of a Norwegian steamer, Bjerkø
in morning moonlight. Carrying iron ore for Hartlepool, on reaching Gibraltar
she had been routed to the French Atlantic port of Saint Jean de Luz. There
she joined a convoy escorted by French warships. While approximately seven
miles northwest of the Triagoz Lighthouse, in the Côtes-d’Armor, just before
1 a.m. on the 5th, a torpedo tore into her port side aft: sinking her in
thirty seconds! The only survivors were her master, second mate, third
engineer, a Danish seaman, a Chinese mess boy and a Greek fireman that were
rescued by a French patrol-boat and taken to Cherbourg. All sixteen others
perished.
Following an apparent audience with Kaiser Wilhelm II and promotion to
Kapitänleutnant on August 20th, Claus Lafrenz took command of UC65
from Kapitänleutnant Max Viebeg, on September 4th. She was a UC II-class
minelaying boat that of course, also had gun and torpedo armament.
Lafrenz’s first patrol on this boat was to the English Channel and
also further west into the Atlantic. In all likelihood, he will have relied
on the navigating warrant officer, Steuermann Gräfe, in positioning the boat
for minelaying. Sailing from his
Belgian base on September 20th, all eighteen mines were laid in three
barrages roughly south of Cape d’Antifer in the last hours of the 23rd.
(Judging from a captured log for 1915, it will have taken approximately four
minutes for each barrage.) Shifting out into the South West Approaches, about
100 miles northwest of Ushant, a fairly large American barque, Paolina,
was stopped by UC65 on the 25th. She was destroyed by charges and
gunfire. A very heavily defended pair of large cargo steamers were
encountered inbound during the night of the 26th, but no attack could be
made. Dived, there was not enough light to use torpedoes and a surface action
was ruled out due to the strong escort. Working eastward again, on October
3rd an Italian ‘three-thousand tonner’, Tasmania, was torpedoed
without warning off Start Point, Devon. Also, during the first-dog of October
19th, one of the British net-drifters based at Le Havre, Comrades,
detonated one of UC65’s mines under her port quarter, while hauling in
her nets. Foundering, six of her crew were slightly injured and all were
rescued by two other drifters, Girl Rhoda and Speedwell III. UC65
next sailed from Zeebrugge on the evening of October 21st, initially to lay
mines off Le Havre. This was done overnight on the 23-24th and in order to
use her other weapons, travelled to Devon’s waters. There a British
defensively-armed collier-transport, North Sea, was torpedoed without
warning, not long after noon on November 2nd, 3½ miles south-south-west of
Bolt Head. Struck on her port side abreast of her fore mast, she sank in six
minutes. One seaman drowned, but he had been ill and seemingly, jumped over
the side, rather than abandoning with the rest in the two ship’s boats. They were picked up by H.M. Armed
Minesweeping Trawlers Manx Hero and Vale of Fruin 30 minutes
later and were taken into Devonport.
Another British defensively-armed transport, Branksome Hall,
was attacked that same evening six miles west-by-south of Prawle Point. At
around 10 p.m. she was torpedoed aft and on investigation, was taken in tow
by H.M. Naval Tug Wapiti that
beached the stricken merchantman on Salcombe Bar almost a day later. H.M.
Armed Minesweeping Trawlers Tribune and Zonia were on guard
during this operation. Only partly abandoned, twelve were picked up by H.M.
Armed Minesweeping Trawler Lois and returned to the Branksome Hall.
There were no fatalities and the transport returned to service: only to be
sunk in July 1918. UB18
must have begun her return to base soon after and made good time. As the
afternoon watch ended the next day, November 3rd, she was about 15 miles
south of Beachy Head and Kapitänleutnant Lafrenz was on the bridge. As per a
report he made later from memory, at 4.15 p.m. he saw a periscope, almost on
his starboard beam and took immediate action, ordering her rudder
hard-a-port. However, ten or fifteen minutes later, two torpedoes were fired
at her from a range of 400 meters. The first grazed her midships, but did not
detonate, but the second blew her stern off. Only five of UC65’s
company of 29 survived, rescued by H.M. Submarine C15 on surfacing and
turned over later to Willonyx off Eastbourne.
The Royal Navy’s Intelligence Division’s interrogation reports on
captured Kaiserliche Marine personnel, along with transcripts of
intercepted mail, are fascinating in their detail. Much had been learned
since the early sinkings, when the treatment of U-boat crews had created
resistance and little information had been gleaned. By late 1917 the process
was highly sophisticated and part of the softening up was in transporting the
prisoners to Cromwell Gardens, in London’s fashionable West End, so that they
could see that the shops were full of goods. Also, personal information, such
as officers’ nicknames were sought after, so that the interrogators could
drop these into conversations, giving the prisoners a sense that the British
knew far more than they really did. Claus Lafrenz’s nickname was Lala.
Between the interrogating officer’s report and a letter sent to a
friend that he had served with on UB18, a fuller description of the
last patrol can be gained. Not everything tallies, such as in a torpedo
attack off the Lizard. Even so, there are interesting points. Due to heavy
weather, she lay on the bottom in the vicinity of Salcombe Bay for three days.
Also, her fifth and last torpedo had been expended pointlessly, in that Start
Point had been misidentified as a vessel. (Anyone that has sailed in the
Firth of Forth and seen May Island looming out of fog should understand
this!) And, it was assessed by the interrogating officer that UC65’s
loss had been down to over-confidence on the part of Kapitänleutnant Lafrenz,
coupled with a keenness to get back to Belgium, for home leave. Also, he was
to receive the command of one of the new UB III boats.
More on Claus Lafrenz’s character came to light in these records. On
the later sinking of UB82, Leutnant zur See der Reserve Hermann
Freudendahl that had served under Lafrenz on UB18, was pleased to
learn that his past commander was alive. Freudendahl stated that in spite of
orders from on high, Lafrenz had refused to sink a hospital ship, even
although the reservist had tried to persuade him to.
Apart from this, there was interesting information on the other
survivors from UC65. In spite of a desperate shortage of line officers
and navigating warrant officers on submarines, resulting in lowering
standards and promoting reservists rapidly, Lafrenz wanted rid of Leutnant
zur See der Reserve Diedrich Braue. Brutal, Lafrenz had inherited from Viebeg
on taking command of UC65. It was, apparently, normal practice for
commanders moving on to take their officers and warrant officers with them to
their new boats. So, it looks as if he wanted to shed Braue, rather than take
him with him to his promised new boat.
Unlike other commissioned prisoners that British interrogators dealt
with, Claus Lafrenz was regarded favourably. It can be seen that unlike
others that lied unconvincingly, he provided some useful information,
but a fair proportion was inaccurate.
While it is known that he went to the officers’ Prisoner of War Camp
at Skipton, Yorkshire, it has not been determined whether he was also at any
of the others. Nevertheless, he kept in touch with friends in Germany by
letter and through these, the British N.I.D. received more information:
mostly through gossip about friends.
It cannot be determined with any certainty when Claus Lafrenz was
released from Skipton, but he remained in naval service. One unconfirmed
source has stated that he was in the 3rd Marine Brigade von Löwenfeld from
January to August 1920. Considering his outlooks as previously seen, his
appearance in this extremely brutal Freikorps unit is curious.
Perhaps he was appointed merely as a replacement, or on the other hand, he
may then have been as virulently anti-Bolshevik, anti-Democratic and
anti-Semitic as others and volunteered.
Anyway, a series of appointments followed, some shore-bound and others
in the torpedo forces still allowed after the Treaty of Versailles. Most
interesting was the command of the sail training ship Niobe in 1924.
However, he retired as a Korvettenkapitän in April 1925, for reasons unknown.
The rest of his life was spent in Fehmarn, devoted, apparently, to
agriculture, shipping and fishing. It is known that his father and two of his
brothers had been killed during the Great War and it appears that he ran the
family estate post-war. He was also the mayor of Fehmarn.
It is likely that his political beliefs had not been on the political
right after all. On the rise to governmental power by the N.S.D.A.P., Claus
Lafrenz refused to allow the Nazis’ flags to be flown from the town hall on
31st January 1933. On a date as yet undiscovered, he was, subsequently,
dismissed from his mayoral post. Unfortunately, there seems to have been much
more pressure, as he committed suicide on 6th April 1937. He was, apparently,
mourned widely by local people. |
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Oberleutnant zur See
Helmut Patzig Kapitänleutnant Rudolf
Schneider Kapitänleutnant
Walther Schwieger Kapitänleutnant
Otto Steinbrinck |