Monthly Archives: March 2021

The Bombardment of the Aptera Blockhouse, 27th to 31st March 1897.

The following accounts of the engagements which took place around the Aptera blockhouse were written by an unnamed journalist working for the London Evening Standard. The significance of the Aptera blockhouse was that it commanded the approaches to, and the water supply of, Fort Izzeddin. The fort in its turn controlled the entrance to Suda Bay; the anchorage of the International Fleet. The accounts have been lightly editied for clarity, but the original spellings retained.

SHELLS OF THE CAMPERDOWN (FROM OUR SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT) CANEA, April 1 [1897].

Although I telegraphed a tolerably full account of yesterday’s doings, there are a few complimentary details which may still be read with interest. The position at Canea, which scarcely seems to be as well-known abroad as it ought, is as follows. Behind the town is a strip of plain, highly cultivated, once, and in some places still, like a park, with ancient olive groves and peach, cherry, almond, and orange trees, covered with fruit and blossom, whilst the ground is carpeted with grass and flowers. This plain varies in width from a mile to perhaps three or four, being wedge-shaped, with the point at Suda, where the hills reach down to the sea and the base opposite Platania to the west. The Turks had protected it by a chain of blockhouses on the ridge overlooking its entire length of perhaps eight or nine miles, with two fairly strong forts at either end, Soubashy or Boutsonaria to the west, perched high on the summit of a hill above the springs which supply Canea with water, and that of  Izzeddin to the east, low down on a slope about four miles outside Suda. The Greek main camp at Alicanu lies in a hollow visible from Soubashy, at a distance of perhaps ten miles, but the Insurgents have lately massed themselves in considerable force at various points in turn on both sides of the main ridge, surrounding and attacking the blockhouses one after another, until they had almost aII fallen into their hands, leaving only the two principal forts still in possession of the Turks. After the assault and capture of Malaxa and Keratidi they determined to storm Soubashy, but were prevented by the International troops occupying it on the very day which they had intended to commence the attack. They then concentrated all their efforts on Fort Izzeddin, and Monday [29th March] last commenced firing, being, however, kept in check by the shells of an Italian cruiser.

The Admirals then decided to reinforce the Turkish garrison of six hundred men by five hundred mixed troops, the whole force to be under the command of Major Bor. On Tuesday [30th March], however, it was discovered that the insurgents had occupied a ruined monastery and some stonework within a few hundred yards of the Turkish blockhouse above Fort Izzeddin [Aptera].

 Here a short description of the ground is necessary. The Fort is placed about one hundred feet above the sea, and is armed with twelve Krupp, fifteen-centimetre guns, one of eight centimetres, and two Nordenfelts. There was ample ammunition for all except the Nordenfelts, which only had about four hundred rounds. Of all these guns, however, only two were available against a land attack, the Fort having been built to cover the entrance to Suda Bay. About a quarter of a mile off, on the summit of the hill where it begins to slope down to Izzeddin, is a strong blockhouse, with two Krupp guns eight-centimetre guns outside it, and two Nordenfelts within. Each of these forts had three hundred men. The Turks from the blockhouse had thrown up an earthwork about three hundred yards in advance, where they had placed about twenty men. The Insurgents in their monastery were quite close to this post, whilst the main body of them were camped a little further off, behind a very strong old stone wall and a natural rampart of rock. This position was. perhaps, three-quarters of a mile from tie Fort itself, and the slope from the ridge to the sea, especially along the edge of a ravine which cleft the hill side, was sown thick with sharpshooters.

To return to the story after this digression, the Insurgents commenced a night attack on Tuesday [30th March], and were shelled by several of the small ships, and by one or two rounds from the larger vessels, I believe, up till midnight. It is doubtful, however, if the shells did much damage, as the search lights were found to be more useful to the Insurgents than to the defence, and were ordered to be discontinued. The Ardent was fired at directly she turned on her light, and I was shown one of several bullets which struck her. Meanwhile, Major Bor, who had, together with the Austrian Admiral, inspected the position on Tuesday afternoon, expressed his opinion that it was imperatively necessary to drive the Insurgents out of their advanced position and to occupy it, otherwise it was easy for them to concentrate any number of men unseen. He, therefore, proposed that an International force of five hundred should on the next day storm the Insurgent camp, and drew up a plan of operations, whereby the five companies were to advance in line with certain distances between; bayonets were not to be fixed until within two hundred yards of the position, &c.

The Admirals met next morning to consider this plan, but two of them objected to taking the offensive, and, as a matter of fact, even before they had commenced their conference firing was general down at the point.

I rode over to Suda early, but on trying to get a boat to take me down to the scene was met by great reluctance. At last one boatman picked up his rifle and said he would take me if I would use an oar, and off we went. This was soon after eight o’clock, and at that time the forts were firing occasionally, whilst the Turkish frigate and the Ardent seemed to be the most-busy of the others. It took us the best part of an hour ‘s hard rowing to come opposite the fight, but it well worth the trouble. At about nine the Turkish vessel sheered off, and the grey Russian armoured gunboat, the Groziastchy, ranged up to within about three hundred yards of the shore, and, slowly drifting backwards and forwards, proceeded to pour in a most destructive fire, directed principally at wo old stone wall at the head of the ravine, with also an occasional shell at the Monastery where the Greeks had hoisted a flag upon which the Turks had ref trained from firing, until ordered to do so by the Admirals, on the ground that it was a sacred edifice, though long since in ruins. The Russian practice was excellent, every shell bursting against or at the foot of the wall which was finally knocked into a heap of rubbish. The Insurgents, nevertheless, did not seem to care much, and as soon as they were driven from one shelter, they swarmed into another, generally acknowledging any particularly accurate shell by a stiffer volley at the Turks.

The whole of the slope was now covered with Insurgents, lying down mostly and firing at their ease, now and again advancing a short way again to crouch and fire.  From the crest down to the cliff the gorse and grass might also have been on fire, so covered were they with perpetual puffs of smoke, and the rattle of the rifles never ceased its accompaniment to the boom of the guns every minute of so. At about half-past nine the Austrian Tiger, a large armoured cruiser, relieved the Groziastchy with rather heavier metal, though it did not seem to me to make quite such good practice. I do not mention the calibre of the respective guns for fear of making a mistake, but anybody whom it interests can look them up in “Brassey.” [An authorative British illustrated guide to the naval forces of the world.] It was about half-past nine, or perhaps a little later, when a roar from the distance showed that one of the big ships in the bay had joined in, and the glasses told it was the Camperdown, which was lying the farthest out, and consequently the nearest to the fort, although at a distance of nearly four miles. Several of her shells seemed to go over the hill, and probably were very useful there, but one or two (I believe six-inch).

HMS Camperdown in action 31st March 1897. Illustration by courtesy of the artist, Iain Lowe

By about ten o’clock the Tiger and the Groziastchy were hard at it, but with apparently no effect on the morale of the Insurgents, who kept up their fire most gallantly. Though it appeared to me that the Turks had evacuated their advanced earthwork, I should not like to be sure of it, at any rate, beyond that there did not seem to be much damage on either side, and the blockhouse was holding its own comfortably. Probably, however, it was enabled to do this from the manner in which the Insurgents were being harassed by the shells. While I was wondering how long this might continue, a terrific crash shook the air followed by a hissing and groaning overhead, and then by an explosion at the head of the ravine.

The din beggars description, being multiplied a hundred- fold by the mountains on every side, which sent back a splitting echo. This was one of the white twins, familiarly known as “Long Toms,” from the Camperdown barbette. In perhaps less than a minute came a second, also right in the centre of the position. Each shell raised such a dust and smoke, that the actual results could not be made out: but the Insurgents could be seen hurriedly pulling down their two flags, picking up their rifles, covering their heads with their cloaks and disappearing over the ridge. Two more of these monsters completed the rout, and practically put an end to the incident. Nevertheless, a number of sharpshooters remained on the slope after the main body had departed under a couple of shrapnels from the Tiger, which were the last shells fired at a quarter past ten.

As soon as the Insurgent flag was down, about a hundred and fifty Turks sallied forth, and, opening into one long line, advanced over the slope, keeping their formation well, and, as far as I could see, not replying to the fire of the Insurgents who had remained, but who were gradually cleared off, now one and then another jumping up like a hare and making for the ravine, up which he doubtless rejoined his comrades. By half-past ten the Turks had swept the whole hillside and planted their own flags on the Monastery and at the head of the ravine, dancing with delight, and firing their rifles in the air.

The ships, having done their business, steamed slowly out to sea to continue the blockade, and I landed to see the result of the fire. My boatman, however, objected, saying that if we did not return at once he did not know when we should be able to do so, as a head wind had sprung up and was freshening. As it was too great a risk to run the chance of being stranded up the coast, we started back, and after a very weary hour and a-half struggle against the waves, we made the hospitable Revenge, in whose ward-room the whole bombardment was fought over again. Before leaving the fort, however, a general action seemed to have begun afresh, and the Insurgents, if driven off, did not, evidently, consider themselves beaten. The Turks will, nevertheless, be now able probably to hold their own easily, and such was the opinion of the Admirals, who yesterday afternoon abandoned the idea of a mixed occupation, only ordering a Turkish reinforcement. The Turks lost three killed and five wounded The Insurgent loss can only be known later.

Whilst on this subject, I may add that all Turks here, military and common folk, are furious over the Malaxa affair. The military attribute the blame to Edhem Pacha’s having ordered the convoy to return the day before, the other officers declaring that they could easily have revictualled it. They also say that the Commandant never intended to surrender, and his white flag was only a signal for a parley, but that the Cretans at once came down in force, and this more or less surprised him. Even then he only surrendered by the advice given to him, very sensibly, by a newspaper Correspondent, [Mr. Bass, an American Correspondent] who undoubtedly saved the lives of them all.

London Evening Standard. Tuesday 13 April 1897

CANEA, April 2 [1897]

 Some of the Insurgents to-day fired about fifteen rifle shots at the Butsunaria blockhouse, now occupied by a mixed foreign garrison. The guns of the Italian troops fired six shots in reply, and the Insurgents, who appeared to be in considerable force, thereupon retired. The Turkish prisoners of Colonel Vassos will arrive in Canea to-morrow morning. Three Greek prisoners at Akrotiri have been released. The following is a summary of a letter ad- dressed by the Bishop of Canea to the Christian nations of Europe: —

” For a long time this country has shed its blood in the straggle to escape from tyranny, and to unite with Greece. In the name of the safety of the Cretan people, who are the victims of so many massacres, and who are determined to obtain this union, put a stop to the bombardment, and do not oppose their unanimous wish. The Turks, on the other hand, are free to act against the Christians, and are even supported by the Great Powers. The conduct of the Great Towers reduces the Christians to despair. May a better appreciation of the facts bring about a change in their policy. I appeal to the sentiment of justice and liberty of the Christian nations of Europe to lead to a modification of the attitude of their Governments. I also thank those who made common cause with my compatriots, for their cause is the cause of the whole of humanity. (Signed) ” Nicephoros.”

The day before yesterday [31st March], while the Austrian troops were occupying the Tsikalaria Heights, I went with a colleague representing a New York journal to the Malaxa Hill, which commands the whole Aptera Plateau and rises above the blockhouse protecting Fort Izzedin, on the mountain side. Our object was to gain some details from personal inquiry regarding the bombardment of that position. We were well received by the Insurgents, who said that a small party did, in fact, attack and occupy the blockhouse in question. A bombardment first of all from the Turkish men-of-war and then by the guns of the International Fleet forced them to evacuate the position, which was at once occupied by the Ottoman troops.

On the 30th March more than eighty shots were fired by the ships’ guns. Several houses in the adjacent villages were set on fire, and, according to the Insurgents, this was almost entirely the work of the Turkish troops, who have now planted their standard on the ruins of the Aptera Monastery, which is the property of the Patmos Convent. My companion and myself ascended the next ridge, from which we could see a number of houses enveloped in thick smoke. Not a single soldier was visible except near the Monastery.

On returning to the village of Malaxa, we had further talk with the Insurgent leaders. They said they knew nothing of the Proclamation of the Admirals calling upon them to cease hostilities. They added, however, that they would only obey the orders of Greece. The Chiefs were full of loud denunciation of the Great Powers, which wanted to deprive them of the right to fight for their freedom; but they were all prepared to die rather than yield, even though the Greek troops, overborne by the pressure of the Six Powers arrayed against their country, should have to return to the Piraeus. The Insurgents suffered little from the bombardment. Their only loss was two killed and four men very slightly wounded, among whom were two standard bearers, the one a so-called deserter from the Greek Army, M. Chondalis, and the other a Cretan engineer, M. Emmanuel Kilaides.

The day following the bombardment, viz., March 31, another Insurgent was killed. We passed the night in the village of Condopoulos, where we were very hospitably entertained by another Greek deserter, Lieutenant Rizzis. On April I we rode to Alikianu, passing on our way through Panaghia. A Deputy from Sphakia, M. Paliogeorgaki, accompanied us, and on the road we met Prince Mourouzi. The Insurgents at Alikianu talked of the action of the Powers, and of their resolve to die fighting, just in the same way as their comrades at Malaxa. The French cruiser Bugeaud yesterday went round to Suda Bay.

London Evening Standard 3 April 1897.

24th March 1897, The Seaforth Highlanders arrive in Canea.

On the 18th March 1897, the British government announced that it proposed to send from Malta the 1st Battalion Seaforth Highlanders consisting of 18 officers and 582 other ranks and five horses; a Field Hospital staffed by 2 officers and 18 other ranks; one officer and five other ranks of the Army Service Corps and 75 mules with 75 Maltese mule drivers.[1]After deficiencies in the Seaforth’s equipment, particularly helmets and gaiters, were made up and a number of additional personnel added to the list, including a farrier and a staff officer and a military clerk to assist Colonel Chermside, the British Military Commissioner, the Seaforths departed Malta, arriving in Crete on 24th March 1897.

Seaforth NCOs prior to their departure to Crete. Penny Illustrated Paper 27 March 18978
Seaforth Highlanders leaving Malta for Crete. The Illustrated London News, 6 April 1897
Seafort Highlanders leaving Malta for Crete. The Graphic, 1st April 1897.

Although they weren’t the first European troops to land that day, that privilege went to the French 8th Marine Infantry, the appearance of kilted men clearly attracted the attention of the Cretan population.

Seaforths arriving in Canea, 24 March 1897. The Graphic, 10 April 1897.
Seaforth Highlanders entering Canea, 24th March 1897. The Illustrated London News, 10 April 1897.

This engraving from The Illustrated London News, is taken from a sketch by the British artist Melton Prior who was in Crete when the Seaforths arrived. According to notes in the National Army Museum file on the Seaforths the officer on the right-hand side is Captain G. G. A. Egerton, D Company 1/Seaforths.[2]

Seaforths patrolling the streets of Canea. L’Illustration, 10 April 1897.

Although one company of the Seaforths landed at Canea on the 24th March, the bulk of the battalion proceeded to Candia, landing there on 26th March. In Canea the Seaforths initially shared accommodation with the French 8th Regiment Marine Infantry in the Nazimen Barracks, but eventually moved out to tented accommodation in Halepa. In Candia, the battalion was supposed to be housed in barracks but because of the unexpected arrival of Italian troops and ‘objections to the various sanitary features in the proposed quarters’[3], moved to tents and then huts on the town walls.

The Seaforth Highlanders were to stay in Crete until November 1897 when they returned to Malta


[1] The National Archive, WO33 149. Telegram No.6. General Officer Commanding in Chief Malta to Secretary of State for War, 18 March 1897.

[2] National Army Museum, NAM 6807. Egerton Papers 1968-07-171. Diary of the Detachment 1st Bn. Seaforth Highlanders at Canea Crete During the early days of the International Occupation 1897.

[3] Ibid.

The Turquoise

On arrival in Crete in March 1897, one of the many problems faced by British troops was gaining access to drinking water. With Candia’s water supply on occasion under threat from insurgents breaching the aqueduct, and anyway being of doubtful quality, securing a constant supply of potable water proved to be a considerable strain on the resources of the Royal Navy. With 1½ gallons per man and 10 gallons per animal daily being the laid down requirement, it was necessary at one stage to use the Cunard liner S.S. Samaria, on hire to bring in a Mountain Battery from Malta, to anchor off Candia in order to supply the 3,000 or gallons per day required, and to supply tank-boats to transport the water into the harbour, the Samaria having too great a draught to enter.[1] To further complicate matters, the British Admiralty then suggested that the War Office pay for the hire since it appeared to them to be a ‘military service’ they were supplying to the Army.[2] The matter was resolved by the use of the hired vessel SS Turquoise as a distillation vessel, anchored inside the harbour walls in Candia.

Distillation vessel Turquoise in Candia Harbour 1897 -1899
Distillation vessel Turquoise
Distillation vessel Turquoise Candia Harbour

Built in Glasgow by John Shearer and Sons and launched in 1893, the Turquoise was a 165 foot long, 590 dwt, iron and steel, screw driven general coaster and hired out to the Navy by its owners, Walker Henderson and Company.[3] According to the records of Lloyds of London, she was surveyed in the Port of London on 22 September 1897 immediately prior to going to Crete, and then again in H.M. Dockyard Chatham on 4 May 1899 upon her return. On this occasion the distilling apparatus was removed.[4]

As it turned out, the Turquoise was to play a part in ensuring the survival of, not only the troops to whom it supplied drinking water, but also the men stranded within the harbour during the rioting on 6th  September 1898.

According to contemporary accounts, the British troops who had been at the Town gate entrance to the harbour when the fighting started, sailors from H.M.S. Hazard and soldiers of 1/Highland Light Infantry, on being forced to retreat from the gate, were split into two groups. One party retreated to, and were trapped in and around, the Dime, the Customs House they had been attempting to take over. The other group were forced to make their way from the Town gate along the harbour mole to the relative safety of the Turquoise, moored almost immediately across the harbour, opposite the Dime. Here the men held out for several hours, under fire all the time from Bashi Bazouks on the harbour wall and in the houses across the harbour.

Candia map. Events 6 September 1898. FO78 4934
Candia map The Globe 16 September 1898

There appear to be no descriptions of what occurred on board the Turquoise during the riot, but there exist several accounts of her role in the immediate aftermath.

“The Turquoise, condensing ship, was moored in the port, and she had to disconnect her distillers and couple up her engines before moving. The Governor [Edem Pasha] gave safe conduct to the British to go round the port and on board the Turquoise, but no help was given with the wounded…Refugees began to arrive on board, and when finally the Turquoise steamed out, her upper deck was covered with wounded and dead, and also with frightened Cretans, including half-a-dozen women and some babies and children.”[5]

“Firing on both sides stopped at once. We got the wounded into the boats first and made the Turkish soldiers row them over to the Turquoise, which had got up steam. We then marched round the harbour to her and all got on board. She then steamed out of the harbour.”[6]

 “They did not succeed in getting the Turquoise out of the harbour until ten o’clock. They found then that she had four bluejackets, four soldiers, and one officer dead on board, and nearly 70 wounded, of whom 10 were bluejackets and over 50 soldiers, the remainder being Christian refugees.” [7]

 “The [H.M.S.] Astraea (Captain Berry) arrived after midnight…All that could be done was to send assistance to the “Turquoise” where Dr. Maillard was singlehanded and the relief party who boarded her with surgical materials and food and clothing at 2 a.m. had a busy night’s work, continued till past daybreak. The Captain of the Turquoise [Captain Richard Shaw] rendering valuable help… [The following day, 7th September] The Turquoise was cleared of her wounded, who went on board the war vessels, and she then steamed out to the open sea, and buried the dead there. ”[8]

Although no British civilians were granted any formal award for their bravery on that day, in recognition of the part played by (civilian) Captain Richard Shaw of the Turquoise in keeping the men safe, the Admiralty presented him with a silver cup, now in the National Maritime Museum, Greenwich.  

Cup presented to Captain Shaw by the Admiralty.

According to the NMM website, “the cup has acanthus leaf decoration on the base of the bowl and on the lid and loop handles, and a border of scrolling foliage around the top of the bowl. It stands on a round foot decorated with a border of leaves, and the tall lid has a fir-cone finial. The cup is gilt on the inside. The side of the bowl is inscribed ‘PRESENTED BY THE LORDS COMMISSIONERS OF THE ADMIRALTY TO Captain Richard Shaw OF THE STEAMSHIP “Turquoise” in recognition of his valuable services to Her Majesty’s Naval and Military Forces at Kandia, Crete, on the 6th September 1898’. The foot is inscribed ‘ELKINGTON & CO LTD SILVERSMITHS TO THE QUEEN, 22 REGENT ST LONDON'”

On return from Crete in 1899, the Turquoise reverted to her previous role as a general cargo carrier.

On 2 July 1915 she was taken over by the Royal Navy and commissioned as Fleet messenger No.30,[9] and it was as such she met her doom on 31 July 1915. On this occasion two Admiralty fleet messengers sailing in company from Glasgow under sealed orders, bound for Dardanelles, were sunk by U.28 (Kapitänleutnant Georg-Günther Freiherr von Forstner). In the afternoon that day, the Turquoise, flying the naval Pennant No. Y4.30, with a crew of 15 under the command of Lt. John Mc Nicol RNR, sighted the U.28 surfaced on starboard bow. The submarine rapidly approached and ordered Turquoise to stop. The Turquoise refused to do so, but attempted to ram the U.28, which opened fire at around 1600, making several hits. The Turquois was immediately abandoned and sank at 1615, 60 miles SW of The Scillies. The chief engineer was killed by gunfire and two crew wounded; however, the survivors were picked up by a patrol trawler and landed at St Mary’s the next day. The accompanying vessel, SS Nugget, was sunk later that evening by the U.28.[10]

U.28. Photographs taken from the deck of one of her prizes.

The U.28 in action. Photographs taken from the deck of one of her victims.[11]

Post Scripts.

The self-sinking submarine.

From 1 August 1914 to 14 June 1916, U.28 was under the command of Kapitänleutnant Von Forstner and had a very successful career, sinking 24 ships, capturing two and damaging a further two.[12] Her successes continued under different commanders until 2 September 1917.  On this day, commanded by Kapitänleutnant Georg Schmidt, while off the northern coast of Norway she attacked and sank the S.S. Olive Branch,[13] sinking herself in the process! Unfortunately for the U.28, the Olive Branch was carrying supplies and munitions to Russia and when, having hit the Olive Branch with a torpedo, the U.28 closed in to complete her destruction with gunfire, a shell from the submarine exploded the ammunition. According to differing accounts, the blast of the explosion either destroyed the submarine outright, or blew a lorry being carried as deck cargo into the air which then landed on the submarine, sinking her. Either way, she went down with all hands.

The submarine and the Sea Monster

In 1933, by now long promoted and retired, Korvettenkapitän Von Forstner gave an account of an encounter which he alleged occurred the day before the U.28 sank the Turquoise. Speaking to a German newspaper he stated: “On July 30, 1915, our U-28 torpedoed the British steamer Iberian, which was carrying a rich cargo across the North Atlantic. The steamer sank so swiftly that its bow stuck up almost vertically into the air. Moments later the hull of the Iberian disappeared. The wreckage remained beneath the water for approximately twenty-five seconds, at a depth that was clearly impossible to assess, when suddenly there was a violent explosion, which shot pieces of debris – among them a gigantic aquatic animal – out of the water to a height of approximately 80-feet. “At that moment I had with me in the conning tower six of my officers of the watch, including the chief engineer, the navigator, and the helmsman. Simultaneously we all drew one another´s attention to this wonder of the seas, which was writhing and struggling among the debris. We were unable to identify the creature, but all of us agreed that it resembled an aquatic crocodile, which was about 60-feet long, with four limbs resembling large webbed feet, a long, pointed tail and a head which also tapered to a point. Unfortunately, we were not able to take a photograph, for the animal sank out of sight after ten or fifteen seconds.” [14]

Artists impression of the U. 28 ‘Sea Monster’.

Fortunately for the current writer’s sanity, this account has been thoroughly debunked by the Fortean Times, while an interesting take on the ‘evolution’ of the illustration of the mythical monster can be found here.


[1] ADM 116/88. No. 95, Admiralty to Commander in Chief Malta 15 April 1897, Harris to Admiralty un-numbered, 18 April 1897 and response appended to telegram Harris to Director of Transport Admiralty 20 April 1897.

[2] ADM 116/88. No. 141. Commander in Chief Malta to Admiralty 10 April 1897.

[3] https://www.clydeships.co.uk/view.php?year_built=&builder=&ref=20969&vessel=TURQUOISE Accessed 12 March 2021.

[4] https://hec.lrfoundation.org.uk/archive-library/ships/turquoise-1893/search/everywhere:turquoise Accessed 12 March 2021.

[5] The People. 18 September 1898, p.11.

[6] The People. 2 October 1898, p.18. From internal evidence this is from an account written by one of the crew of H.M.S. Hazard who was one of the original landing party present in the Dime throughout the events of 6th  September.

[7] The Rugby Advertiser. 20 September 1898, p.2. ‘The following account of the fighting at Candia is from a private letter written on board H.M.S. Astraea which been sent to the Times with permission to publish. The letter is dated Candia, September 9.’

[8] The Globe 16 September 1898, p.5.

[9] https://www.clydeships.co.uk/view.php?year_built=&builder=&ref=20969&vessel=TURQUOISE Accessed 12 March 2021.

[10] https://www.naval-history.net/WW1NavyBritishBVLSaRN1507.htm Accessed 12 March 2021.

[11] https://www.gutenberg.org/files/30114/30114-h/30114-h.htm#imagep078

[12] https://uboat.net/wwi/men/commanders/76.html Accessed 13 March 2021.

[13] https://uboat.net/wwi/boats/?boat=28 Accessed 13 March 2021.

[14] https://wrecksite.eu/wreck.aspx?71101

A Prince of Siam in Crete – or probably not! September 1898.

 In November 1897, after much diplomatic negotiation,  Abhakara Kiartivongse, Prince of Chumphon, Siam (Thailand), the 28th child of King Rama V of Siam and a commoner mother, was sent to train with the Royal Navy. Initially serving as a Midshipman onboard H.M.S. Revenge, he was transferred off the vessel to Malta in September 1898, immediately prior to the Revenge set sail for Candia to assist in the aftermath of the riots of 6th September.

Abhakara Kiartivongse, Prince of Chumphon (19 December 1880 – 19 May 1923)

The fact that he apparently never set foot on Crete did not stop another Siamese Naval Officer stating in, what appears to be rather more of a hagiography than a biography, that:

‘The Prince used to tell a story of when he was a student in [the Royal Navy] and how he had the opportunity to put down the rioting on the island of Crete. For three months he had to eat and sleep outdoors in the cold. On the battlefield, he had to sleep among the corpses of the recently killed. And sometimes he went without food. He had to eat snails that he caught and fried with opnions. The corpses of those who had been shot in their guts smelled terrible, even the ones who had just died.’ [1]

Richard A. Ruth, the author of the article[2] from which the above quote is taken, is clear that the intention of the original author is to show the Prince in a good light as a heroic figure and one of the founders of the modern Siamese Navy.  However, while accepting that Abhakara never took part in any actions on, or off, Crete, referring to the events immediately after 6th September, Ruth goes on to state that:

‘The Royal Marines that this flotilla put ashore at Heraklion fought armed Turks throughout the city. Within months, the British forces had put down the elements that had attacked Heraklion and expelled all remaining Turkish forces from the island.’

Just for the record, the Royal Marines did not ‘[fight] armed Turks throughout the city’, let alone for ‘months’.

In additiion, snails fried with onions are delicious!


[1] Aphi det Aphakon, M.R. Luang pu suk kap krommaluang Chumphon [Luang pu Suk and the Prince of Chumphon]. Bankok Comma Design & Print 2009.

[2] Ruth, Richard A. “Prince Abhakara’s Experiences with Britain’s Royal Navy: Education, Geopolitical Rivalries and the Role of a Cretan Adventure in Apotheosis.” Sojourn: Journal of Social Issues in Southeast Asia, vol. 34, no. 1, 2019, pp. 1–47. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/26594523. Accessed 25 Feb. 2021.