The total obliteration of Fort Loncin, Liege, Belgium (15 August 1914)

Nowadays, the once-mighty Fort Loncin, one of a chain of fortifications built around the strategically important Belgian city of Liège, resembles an alien landscape. The hill that once concealed the fort is now a jumble of peaks, craters and escarpments, punctuated by grotesquely tilted steel structures and twisted metalwork.

When I visited the site earlier this year, I expected to find evidence of wartime destruction. However, the scene that greeted my fellow battlefield walkers and me was astonishing. What had once been a formidable fortress had been transformed into a landscape of almost total devastation.

Fort Lonsin, Liège - copyrite Phil Curme

So, what had caused such devastation? To answer that question, we need to return to the opening days of the First World War and examine how Belgium had prepared to defend itself against the threat of a German invasion in the 1880s.

The rivalry between Germany and France continued unabated following France’s defeat in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870–71. The unification of the German states, coupled with the deeply resented reparations imposed on France, created the conditions for a future confrontation between the two great powers.

Belgium recognised that, in any future conflict, German forces might attempt to outflank French defences by advancing through Belgian territory. To counter this threat, a ring of forts was constructed around Liège to protect the strategically important crossings of the River Meuse and obstruct a German advance.

By the early years of the twentieth century, however, many of these fortifications had fallen into a state of disrepair, and their defences were increasingly outdated. Nevertheless, they would soon be called upon to play a crucial role in Belgium’s resistance to the German invasion of August 1914.

Destroyed casement, Fort Loncin - copyrite Phil Curme

The German Schlieffen Plan envisaged precisely such a manoeuvre. Compounding the perilous position of the Belgian defenders, the plan called for the Netherlands to remain neutral, providing Germany with what has often been described as a ‘neutral windpipe’ through which trade could continue in the event of war.

This left the German advance into France dependent on a rapid passage through Belgium. When General Alexander von Kluck’s First Army, some 320,000 strong, moved to attack France in August 1914, it faced a narrow corridor between the southern border of the Netherlands and the foothills of the Ardennes. The fortified city of Liège lay directly in its path.

The forts around Liège would have to be overcome—and quickly.

To overcome Belgian resistance, the Germans brought forward artillery of unprecedented calibre. The forts around Liège had been designed to withstand bombardment from 21 cm mortars, but the German siege guns proved far more destructive than the fortifications’ designers had anticipated.

Among the weapons deployed were road-mobile Škoda 30.5 cm howitzers, which could be transported into position to bombard the Belgian defences. More formidable still were the enormous 42 cm mortars, popularly known as Big Bertha. These siege guns could hurl shells weighing approximately 2,200 pounds over distances of up to nine miles, delivering a devastating blow against the concrete and steel fortifications.

Big Bertha, Fort Loncin Museum - copyrite Phil Curme

Under the weight of this artillery bombardment, the forts began to fall, despite the courageous resistance mounted by Lieutenant-General Gérard Leman’s force of some 34,500 defenders. The first to succumb was Fort Barchon, situated on the right bank of the River Meuse, to the north-east of Liège.

Conditions inside the forts were horrendous. The relentless bombardment, dust, heat and mounting casualties made life for the defenders increasingly unbearable. Matters were made worse by a significant design flaw: the latrines were located outside the main fortifications, separated from them by an exposed area vulnerable to enemy fire. This shortcoming was addressed in the much more modern Fort Eben-Emael, constructed in the 1930s.

The decisive moment came when only three forts remained in Belgian hands. As the massive Big Bertha mortars opened fire on Fort Loncin, the defenders could hear the approaching shells. Leman himself survived the bombardment and later described its terrifying intensity:

‘We heard a rushing of air which increased in intensity until it became a hurricane roar and ended in a dreadful crash of thunder; fountains of earth and smoke were thrown into the air, and the whole earth shook.’

The undamaged entrance to Fort Loncin - copyrite Phil Curme

Comparison - the undamaged cap at Fort Lantin

After more than two hours of bombardment, which must have driven the garrison to the limits of endurance, a shell penetrated the fort’s protective dome of concrete and steel and exploded in the magazine. The resulting blast devastated the fort and brought resistance to an end. Of the 550 men manning the fort, 350 became casualties. General Leman himself survived, just.

A German pioneer who had rushed forward to help the stunned and confused garrison described what he found.

We could hardly make out the trace of the fort. The ruins formed a miniature alpine landscape, with debris strewn about like pebbles in a mountain stream. Heavy artillery and ammunition had been thrown everywhere; a cupola had been blown from its place and now looked like a monstrous tortoise, lying on its shell. A few blackened and dazed Belgians were stumbling about the wreckage'.

This devastating demonstration of the destructive power of modern artillery prompted the surrender of the neighbouring forts of Hollogne and Flémalle, opening the way into France for von Kluck’s forces.

Fort Loncin Memorial - copyrite Phil Curme

There is a modest admission fee to visit Fort Loncin. Near the entrance, a fascinating little museum is packed with photographs, artefacts, uniforms and other memorabilia. To reach the fort itself, visitors must walk around a small bungalow that has been built, rather incongruously, within the boundaries of the destroyed fort.

On the day of our visit, the bungalow’s owner was also running the museum. Delighted to welcome us, he generously took the time to show us a wealth of additional material that was not normally on public display.

Given the experience of the Liège forts, it is perhaps surprising that the French Army embraced the concept of a static, fortified line to defend its frontiers in the 1930s. Moreover, the fall of Fort Eben-Emael to German airborne troops on 11 May 1940 would demonstrate that heavy artillery was not the only threat to the effectiveness of fortifications as a means of conducting defensive warfare.

For my portfolio of Liege photographs, including the forts, click here.

The Engineer's Tale: The DMWD and HMS Vernon boats at Birnbeck Pier (1941-49)

On 8 May 1953, the Department of Miscellaneous Weapons Development (DMWD) held its first reunion dinner at Simpson’s-in-the-Strand, London. Among those enjoying a menu of fillet of sole mornay and braised gammon were a number of veterans from the DMWD’s wartime establishment at Weston-super-Mare. Several members of the HMS Birnbeck contingent were local men who had ended the war as bona fide ‘Wheezers and Dodgers’, having played a key role in the testing of special weapons along the North Somerset coast.

This latest post focuses on Dick Crowe, one of the attendees, described by journalist Gerald Pawle in a 1956 Liverpool Echo article as ‘a vigorous, grey-haired man in his fifties’. Crowe was a partner in Crowe and Green, one of Weston-super-Mare’s largest engineering enterprises. He also owned the Royal Pier Hotel which, thanks to its proximity to Birnbeck Pier, provided accommodation for senior personnel involved with the DMWD.

Indeed, Neville Shute, an RNVR Lieutenant and senior ‘Wheezer and Dodger’, wrote part of his novel Secret War while staying at the hotel. Crowe and Green played a vital role in operations on Birnbeck Pier and across the nearby testing sites. It would be a fair guess to say that Dick Crowe first connected with the boffins of the DMWD in the bar of his Royal Pier Hotel!

The Island, Birnbeck - copyright Phil Curme

In addition to fabricating components for weapons testing and constructing platforms and targets, Crowe and Green were responsible for maintaining the mixed fleet of small boats used by the DMWD and HMS Vernon personnel during their trials. Local historian David J. Knock identified eleven craft requisitioned for Admiralty service, while the diary of Crowe and Green engineer John Smith confirms that keeping these boats operational was a major undertaking.

An example of the company’s work can be seen in the photograph above. In 1944, Crowe and Green constructed a slipway leading up to the boathouse on the eastern side of Birnbeck Pier. The project involved reusing rails from the ongoing ‘Baseball’ project (more on this here) and constructing a carriage to transport the boats.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s take a look at three or four of the boats used by the DMWD.

The Princess Ida - copyright Western Daily Press

Amongst the first vessels to be requisitioned was the Princess Ida, one of the ferries operating on the Aust–Beachley route across the Severn Estuary during the 1930s, when there were no bridges spanning the river. The AI-enhanced photograph above comes from a Western Daily Press report covering her inaugural voyage on 31 July 1931. She was rendered redundant in 1935 as bigger and better ferries were introduced. The Admiralty were looking for a vessel with low magnetism for mine recover work, and the wooden hulled decommissioned ferry fitted the bill perfectly.

Named after the wife of ferry entrepreneur Enoch Williams, the Princess Ida was built in Chepstow for the Old Passage Severn Ferry Company Ltd. Constructed of timber (as mentioned above), she was 60 feet long, with a beam of approximately 20 feet. Her design was innovative for the period. The Princess Ida could accommodate four large cars and six smaller vehicles, while a turntable arrangement incorporated into her design helped to simplify the loading and unloading of vehicles.

The turntable - copyright Peter Gosson

In his diary, a transcript of which is held in the Somerset Heritage Centre, Crowe and Green engineer John Smith recorded that Princess Ida was one of the most troublesome vessel to maintain. One entry in the autumn of 1942 tells of the Princess Ida being stranded at Uphill. The engine had been flooded as the fire pump was not run at night, and as the tide came in she filled with water.

Her versatility made the Princess Ida ideal for use by the DMWD and she was commissioned on 2 October 1942. Later, in May 1943 her naval utility was recognised by the Admiralty in a name change to 'Birnbeck'. Sadly, in 1945, she was moved to South Wales and this unique vessel ended her days rotting away at Castle Pill in Milford Haven. 

Y-Not - copyright Clevedon Civic Society

The DMWD fleet served a variety of purposes, including the recovery of test ordnance, the laying of marker buoys, the observation of weapons trials, and the transport of personnel and equipment.

One of the less sophisticated vessels requisitioned for Admiralty service was the pleasure boat Y-Not (above). In the early twentieth century, she had been used to take passengers on boat trips around Clevedon Bay, departing from the slipway south of Clevedon Pier. Y-Not was one of three similar vessels, all robustly built of mahogany and designed to last.

According to local historian John Dunford, the trips were operated by Joe Rich, who also ran the Royal Oak public house in Copse Road, Clevedon. As fuel rationing began to bite in 1942, Rich joined the Royal Navy and took his boat with him. Repainted grey and fitted with a winch in the bow, Y-Not was put to work for the Admiralty. Based at Clevedon Pill, she was conveniently located for the weapons testing grounds at Woodspring Bay.

Y-Not II - copyright Clevedon Pier

It is not known whether the original Y-Not returned to her pleasure-cruising duties after the end of the Second World War. However, an article in the Clevedon Mercury dated July 1992 records what may have been her final sighting: at the Prince of Wales Pier, Falmouth, in 1953.

A seemingly identical boat, named Y-Not II, operated pleasure trips from Clevedon's slipway during the 1950s and 1960s. Whether she was one of the original three vessels, a newer vessel or a refurbished version of Y-Not I remains uncertain.

HMS Vernon Cutter - Copyright Jean Sugar

HMS Vernon LCM - Copyright Jean Sugar

The HMS Vernon teams responsible for testing the Squid and Hedgehog anti-submarine weapons (see here for more details) used the sheltered moorings at the mouth of the River Banwell, close to the landward end of St Thomas’s Head. Here, they moored a motor boat and a small landing craft, which were used to recover test ordnance following trials.

Confidential reports held at The National Archives in Kew and declassified in the 1980s provide a vivid description of the challenges faced by the recovery crews:

At the crack of dawn the recovery boats’ crews depart by lorry to St Thomas’s Head, some six miles away from the base (Weston-super-Mare airfield). The narrow made-up road ends at Woodspring Priory, becoming a farm track beyond it, running through several fields, each with a gate to be opened and shut. Passage between the moorings is only possible around High Water, a decided handicap if it comes to blow. The boat crews scramble over the rocks to the foreshore, ferry themselves by skiff in relays to the boats and are soon under way.

On a fine summer’s day to go out in the LCM to Langford Grounds (which, if not dry, are by now no longer covered in water) and look for black cylindrical objects is second only to Make and Mend as a means of earning the Queen’s money, but in Winter there is little to be said for it.

Retrieval at Woodspring Bay - National Archives

The exposed mud and sand are riddled with gullies and crevices, so it is perhaps unsurprising that test ordnance is still occasionally discovered in the area. Indeed, over the past decade, local Coastguard teams have had to call in the bomb disposal squad to investigate reports of 'bombs and torpedoes' discovered by startled members of the public!

Other requisitioned vessels included Flora Glen, a three-ton motor launch that was the first boat to be winched up the rails into the old boat shed mentioned earlier in this post; Persil, a motorboat acquired for miscellaneous naval service in 1942; and Mary, a 160-ton dumb barge requisitioned from Mrs Grace Lambert in November 1940.

Mary was subsequently used during the sea trials of 'Baseball' in July & August 1944 in Woodspring Bay. Baseball was a naval weapon based on the same principles as the RAF's Bouncing Bombs - Highball and Upkeep (more information here).