“Captain, two torpedo boats. Close by Nagam Island.”
“I see them, Laurent. Bring the ship around to oh-nine-oh. Prepare to open fire on them as soon as we are clear of the Laoya islands in the middle of the anchorage. And order
Amiral Charner
to take its lead from us.”
Dumont d’Urville
was now parallelling the course of
La Motte-Picquet
but falling steadily behind the cruiser. Looking at the charts, Babineau realized that Berenger, on board
La Motte-Picquet,
couldn’t see the torpedo boats, since they were screened by Koh Wai Island. “Captain, we have a clear line of fire now. I believe the Thais are trying to raise steam over there.”
Babineau took another look. In the dim pre-dawn light, the threads of smoke from the two torpedo boats were only just dimly visible. Certainly, the two ships weren’t moving. The three 140mm guns on
Dumont d’Urville
crashed out, sending the first shells of the battle towards the two Thai ships. It was a ranging salvo; three shots spaced out to straddle the targets. Actually, all three fell short. The next salvo was over. It was only the third that actually achieved the desired straddle.
The forward 3-inch gun on one torpedo boat opened fire. Babineau guessed that it was aiming at the gun flashe,s but the shots weren’t even close. The next salvo from
Dumont d’Urville
fell all around the torpedo boat.
They must be taking splinter damage at the very least.
The 140mm guns fired again. This time the target reeled from the impact of a direct hit. The orange glow of a major fire started to spread from her midship section.
“Why the devil isn’t
Amiral Charner
firing?” Captain de Quieverecourt was furious. The French force had achieved complete surprise, yet his was the only ship firing on what appeared to be a defenseless enemy. “Laurent, contact her and order her to open fire on those torpedo boats.”
Babineau grabbed a signal lamp and sent out the message as ordered. While he did so, the Thai torpedo boat had been hit twice more. She was clearly sinking. Her companion was starting to move very slowly, but she was firing her trio of three-inch guns. Where the shots were going was another matter. Certainly it was nowhere close to
Dumont d’Urville.
The signal lamp on
Amiral Charner
started to wink. Babineau took down the message. Its content actually made his jaw drop with shock.
“Sir, with respect, the message from
Amiral Charner
says that Commodore Berenger did not place you in command of this division so, therefore,
Amiral Charner
will dictate her own movements in compliance with the Commodore’s orders.”
Babineau shook his head. It seemed incredible, but the Captain of
Amiral Charner
was actually correct. Commodore Berenger had divided his squadron into three divisions but not appointed anybody to command those divisions. Correct that may be, but it would take a mind of incredible pettiness to make an issue of such things in the middle of a battle. Babineau’s thoughts were interrupted by more cheering from the bridge. The gun crews on
Dumont d’Urville
were into their stride; the guns fired with a rapidity they had rarely achieved before. The second Thai torpedo boat was already hit and her return fire was faltering. That was when a broadside of 155mm shells from
La Motte-Picquet
blanketed the position of the first torpedo boat to be taken under fire.
If she wasn’t sinking already, she certainly is now.
Babineau actually felt sorry for the poor ship. She was hopelessly outmatched by the cruiser and sloops that were pounding her and didn’t even have the steam raised to make a run for it. She was rolling over already and was finished.
A sad way for a ship to die. At least she got a shot off to save her honor.
The other torpedo boat was in no better condition; her death was made certain when the
La Motte-Picquet
switched fire on to her.
“Bring us around to oh-oh-five.” de Quieverecourt snapped the order out. He hoped that
Amiral Charner
would follow the maneuver, since there was a limb of the anchorage ahead and there might be game there.
“Captain,
Amiral Charner
reports we are under attack by a third torpedo boat approaching from the north. It has a merchant ship following it.”
“What?” de Quieverecourt frowned. “A merchant ship?”
Any additional questions he might have had were broken by the firing of
Amiral Charner’s
guns as she engaged the new targets. Babineau looked across to where the shells were directed. The ships were hard to see in the gloom and shadows of the nearby land, but he caught a glimpse of the targets in the light of the shells exploding. Two funnels amidships. Suddenly, he realized what was happening. He snapped out a signal to the other sloop. “Cease firing, those ships are the
Marne
and
Tahurel”
To Babineau’s sickened dismay,
Amiral Charner
continued firing.
Marne’s
silhouette was disfigured by the red flare of a hit and the orange glow of fire. That made the identity of the ship painfully obvious. Mercifully,
Amiral Charner
ceased fire.
HTMS
Thon buri,
off Koh Krabung, Koh Chang Anchorage, Thailand
“Get under way now.”
Commander Luang Phrom Viraphan snarled the order out.
Thonburi
was the only diesel-engined ship in the fleet. That meant she was the only one that could move right away. The attack had come a vital few minutes earlier than he had expected.
Another quarter of an hour, 30 minutes at most, the four torpedo boats would have raised steam.
Faced with them, the French squadron would have been in an invidious position. But he’d never had those few minutes.
The fleet was still raising steam. The fate of the two torpedo boats slaughtered off Koh Ngam showed what would happen to the other ships if the French squadron got to them. There were two more torpedo boats, two fleet oilers, several transports and a minelayer back in the anchorage.
Thonburi
had to protect them until they got under way. Luang Phrom cursed the fact that
Thonburi’s
sister ship
Ayuthya
was not there to help him.
Luang Phrom felt the vibration under his feet as the diesels started to move the gunboat forward. “Navigation, keep us in shallow water. That’s to make the French stay at longer range.”
“Torpedoes!”
The scream of warning from the lookout was nearly panic-stricken. The eastern sky was much brighter now. Deep purple changed to light blue as the sun steadily neared the point where it would peek over the horizon. In the extra light, the white streaks on the water were clearly visible.
Thonburi
was moving, but just barely. The torpedoes were perfectly aimed. For a moment, Luang Phrom was dismally certain that his mission to protect the rest of the fleet would be ended before it started. Then, the tracks were replaced by white-capped blasts. The torpedoes exploded in the shoal water.
“And that’s another reason to stay in shallow water.”
A combination of relief at the sudden end to a near-mortal threat and the fact that the Captain’s jokes are always funny caused a wave of laughter to
sweep the bridge. The problem was that
Thonburi
was silhouetted against the
pre-dawn sky to the east. The French ships were lost on the darkness to the west. Still, the flash of their guns had been visible and there was just enough light to see a vague shadow.
“And, open fire.”
The gunboat lurched as her four 200mm guns roared out. Luang Phrom hoped against hope that he would see the brilliant flash of hits on the leading French ship but there were none. It had indeed been a faint chance under the conditions prevailing. He was still disappointed.
“Prepare to fire again. Wait on my command.”
This is going to be a long fight. We will have to save ammunition.
Over to the east, there was a tiny white spot that marked the first tip of the sun coming over the horizon. In a few minutes, the sun would be up and the French ships would be staring right into it. That would swing the advantage back to
Thonburi.
French Sloop
Dumont d’Urville,
Koh Chang Anchorage, Thailand
“
La Motte-Picquet
has fired torpedoes.”
Babineau made the report with a slight degree of reluctance. He could see the Siamese gunboat by Krabung Island and the white streaks of water that marked the torpedoes on their way to destroy her. He lost track of them in the semi-darkness but say the white towers of water and then the brilliant flash of explosions. “We got her.”
A few seconds later, there was the train-like roar of 200mm shells. Four towers of water rose between the
La Motte-Picquet
and the
Dumont d’Urville.
“That must be the other gunboat.” de Quieverecourt was surprised at the speed with which the Thai gunboats had opened fire. “Those gunboats are only 2,200 tons. The one we just hit won’t be firing at anything with three torpedoes in her.”
Babineau glanced aft.
Marne
and
Tahure
had fallen in aft of the two larger sloops. The fire on
Marne
had been put out very quickly. Mercifully, she had only a few wounded from the ‘friendly’ shell that
Amiral Charner
had put into her. Nevertheless, her captain was maintaining a hurt silence. Viewed objectively, Babineau couldn’t blame him.
“Open fire, Laurent.”
de Quieverecourt noted that the movement of the ships had brought a Thai gunboat into his firing arcs, while
La Motte-Picquet’s
rush eastwards had meant that any shots she might have had were at Mai Si Yai Island.
Dumont d’Urville
was a well-drilled ship and her gun crews were filled with confidence after the destruction of the two torpedo boats a few minutes earlier. The only question that de Quieverecourt couldn’t answer was where the gunboat
La Motte-Picquet
had torpedoed was.
Could she have sunk so quickly? Perhaps, after three hits on a small ship like that.
That thought was interrupted by the crash of 140mm guns as the French sloop opened fire.
“I can’t see what’s happening, Captain.” Babineau sounded frustrated. “We’re staring right into the rising sun and I can’t see a damned thing. That’s why
La Motte-Picquet
is heading so far ahead of us. She’s trying to get clear of the sun.”
There was another train-roar overhead. This time, there was no doubt as to which ship was the target. The four shells exploded in the water around
Dumont d’Urville.
Her side plating rang as a patter of fragments hit the steel. Her own guns returned the salvo. The glare from the rising sun stopped Babineau from seeing where they landed. The minutes ticked past, with the slow exchange of ineffective salvoes growing more hesitant. In Babineau’s opinion, he was shooting blind. The futility of the exercise annoyed him.
“Captain, we can’t engage under these conditions and our flashes are just giving the Siamese something to aim at. I suggest we cease fire until we can spot the fall of shot.”
de Quieverecourt nodded.
Dumont d’Urville’s
gun fell silent. A few second later, another salvo arrived from the Thai gunboat. This one was far aft of
Dumont d’Urville;
a close straddle on the
Amiral Charner.
For a moment, Babineau thought she had been hit, but there was no tell-tale burst of black smoke or red glow of fire from her.
“Close but not close enough, Captain.”
“If she had more than four guns, we would be in serious trouble by now. She just hasn’t the number of guns needed to give a dense shell pattern.”
“Nor do we, sir.”
“True, but we’re not supposed to get involved in this kind of fight.”
Behind them,
Amiral Charner
had been straddled again. The next rounds seemed to be a long time coming. That made Babineau look; first at the gunboat that was maneuvering away from the line of four sloops, then at
La Motte-Picquet.
The cruiser was firing her guns in full broadsides; eight 155mm weapons blasting out rounds at her target. The first broadsides were badly off; Babineau guessed that
La Motte-Picquet
had mistaken the shots from the
Amiral Charner
as her own. Four broadsides in, she obviously realized her mistake and corrected her aim.
HTMS
Thonburi,
off Koh Krabung, Koh Chang Anchorage, Thailand
