Beware Brits Bearing Boats

July 28, 2025

Hard to miss the mutual excitement shared between John Healey, the UK Defence Secretary, and our very own Richard Marles, the Australian Defence Minister, as well as Deputy Prime Minister, in his spare time. The two men were front and centre in Geelong only last week (July 26) to sign the UK and Australia section of the 50‑year bilateral AUKUS submarine agreement. Marles called the agreement “one of the most significant treaties since Australia’s Federation,” adding, “The Geelong Treaty will enable comprehensive cooperation on the design, build, operation, sustainment, and disposal of our AUKUS submarines.”

Given Australia’s past experience with British Submarines the “disposal” clause of the contracts may not be much of a problem for Mr Marles. We’ve swum in these waters before, and it did not end well for anyone.

The AE1, 1914

In 1910, the Australian government ordered two E-class submarines, AE1 and AE2, from Vickers Ltd at Barrow-in-Furness in the United Kingdom. The boats were of a Royal Navy design, modified for long-range colonial service in Australian waters.

The Aussie modification to the deck gun proved crucial in the life and death of the AE2. The standard E-type sub sported a 12-hundredweight naval gun, firing 76.2 mm calibre ammo, up to 9,300 metres at 15–20 rounds per minute in ideal conditions. Quite a weapon by any standard, if you had one. Sadly, the “12 pounders” were not included in the AE kit bags.

The missing gun was just one of the many deficiencies of the two submarines. But what do you expect when your most expensive and sophisticated fighting assets are designed for you on the other side of the earth by a government not your own?

On Empire Day, May 24, 1914, when the AE1 and the AE2 steamed into Sydney Harbour after an historic 13,000 nautical mile voyage from Portsmouth, an excited collection of naval dignitaries and local government authorities were there to greet them.

They weren’t there just to look at the new toys, but to celebrate the 13,000 miles and the 83 days at sea, declared on the day “the longest submarine journey in history”.

No-one mentioned that even without the infamous “Aussie-mods”, neither sub had the range to cross the vast distance to Australia without a helpful tow from the Royal Navy light cruiser HMS Eclipse. Reports on the extent of the “assist” vary from about “one third” to “most of the way”. More than enough to cast doubt on the validity of the world-record if racing war machines were an Olympic sport rather than a deadly serious business.

The brave men inside the subs knew they had problems. The litany of mechanical failures clear to those onboard included limited range, but we know about that. In addition, the diesel engines were unreliable and prone to breakdowns. Both boats lacked sonar or advanced periscopes, making them difficult to navigate. They had slow dive times, making them vulnerable in transition from surface to submerged. To top it off, most of the men onboard considered them next to uninhabitable. They were hot, poorly ventilated, with constant condensation and diesel fumes, very little fresh water, no refrigeration, and very basic sanitation.

But hey, war was on the way and the commanding officer of the AE1, Lieutenant Commander Thomas F. Besant gave the welcoming crowd at Sydney Harbour barely a hint of his issues when he said, “it’s not all beer and skittles, it’s dangerous but it’s the life I’ve chosen.”

Like all the heroic crew of the AE1, Lieutenant Commander Besant was brave, stoic, and doomed.

When Britain declared war on Germany on August 4, 1914, Australia followed suit. In September 1914, the AE1 and AE2 deployed as part of the Australian Naval and Military Expeditionary Force to capture Rabaul, then the capital of German New Guinea.

The allies achieved victory in Rabaul by September 11, 1914, after a brief skirmish, otherwise known as the Battle of Bita Paka. Keep in mind Rabaul was more the corporate concession to the Kaiser, developing coconut and rubber with the coerced help of indigenous labour. It was never a fighting colony, and the surrender of the local Germans came without either of our submarines firing a shot.

Probably just as well, given the rapid decline of their seaworthiness.

On Monday, September 14, 1914, on a routine patrol near the Duke of York Islands, the AE1 disappeared. One of the last to see the boat and the crew intact was Lieutenant William Warren of the HMAS Parramatta. “There was no sign of distress, no sound, no explosion. She simply disappeared beneath the waves.”

One very expensive boat and 35 brave men dead and gone. Their fate remained unknown for over a century. When a conglomerate of searchers found the wreckage of the AE1 in 2017, they reported the forward hatch was open with no other sign of serious damage. Suggestions were the boat had suffered hull failure, flooding, and a consequent loss of control.

For the AE2, there was some significant glory before its seemingly inevitable malfunction and death.

On April 25, 1915, yes, the same day as the ANZAC landings at Gallipoli, the AE2, under the command of Lieutenant Commander Henry Dacre Stoker, became the first Allied submarine to breach the heavily guarded Dardanelles Strait into the Marmara Sea. It was a significant achievement of naval craft and courage.

The Sydney Morning Herald, in May 1915, said, “On the very day our men stormed the beaches, an Australian submarine defied the mines, guns, and currents of the Dardanelles and broke through. This is a name that shall not be forgotten.”

According to The Times of London, May 1915, “this was a splendid piece of daring seamanship executed by the Australian submarine AE2. The feat has electrified the Navy.”

Others had tried and failed, succumbing to mines, nets, and gunfire, but the AE2 made it through. In Commander Stoker's own words, "I decided to try and force a passage through the Dardanelles and, if successful, to run amok among the enemy shipping." And that is exactly what he did in the Sea of Marmara, until his submarine failed him.

Despite the inadequacy of the boat, the courage of the crew was beyond question. On eighteen separate occasions, they slid past the holding chains of sea mines, scraping ominously against the side of the boat. Every inch forward dragged the tethered mine closer to the hull. Eighteen times they slid by without explosion.

On April 25, the AE2 was sighted from the cliff-top fort at Canakkale. With no means to outrun the heavy artillery of the fort, Stoker brought the AE2 so close to the shoreline the barrels of the fort’s large artillery could not depress far enough to fire directly at the submarine. After hours staring helplessly at each other, the submarine slipped away silently in the night.

Human courage was not the problem. After five days creating mayhem amongst the enemy, the list of mechanical failures aboard the AE2 had rendered it defenceless.

There were hydroplane malfunctions, i.e. no depth control. There were torpedo failures such as not firing, not going straight, and. Most frustrating of all, striking but not exploding.

The diesel engines were overheating and unreliable, leaving the boat unable to recharge its batteries while surfaced. Ballast tank and trim issues, and scariest of all, hull stress.

Not to mention, no deck gun.

On April 30, the hydroplane jammed, and the AE2 surfaced uncontrollably. Fire from the Turkish torpedo boat the Sultan Hisar struck the AE2, leaving it unable to dive.

According to Commander Stoker, “The boat was riddled. I ordered all hands up and, seeing no possibility of escape, we blew the main tanks and destroyed the vessel.” The Commander sent her to the bottom rather than surrender her to the Turks. The crew survived the scuttling and became prisoners of war.

Given the fallibility of the E-Class submarines, it may have been smarter to hand the damaged AE2 over to the enemy as a prototype for their own designs. Hindsight is a marvellous thing.

But that was then, and here we are today, buying submarines. Again.

Our various defence chiefs looked positively ecstatic at the signing of the Geelong Treaty. And why wouldn’t they? With the various sections of the AUKUS agreement having cost Australia 1.3 billion Australian dollars in the year to date, with another AU$360 billion to go over the next fifty years, everyone is delighted. It’s not just the live pollies, there is a trough load of ex-politicians lining up for directorships across the whole weapons sector, ready to snout their share of the loot.

There is money to be made, and everyone is diving into submarines, except, perhaps, the third leg of this terrifying trifecta. America, it seems, may not be so keen as the rest of us.

According to Under Secretary of Defence Elbridge Colby, "If we can produce the attack submarines in sufficient numbers and at sufficient speed, then great. But if we can’t, that becomes a very difficult problem because we don’t want our servicemen and women to be in a weaker position."

Colby is not alone in wondering about U.S. capacity. Admiral Daryl Caudle told Congress, “The U.S. must double current submarine production. We’re far below the 2.33 needed to meet both national defence and AUKUS commitments. I am worried that we just don’t have the capacity with just efficiency increases alone to deliver the 2.3 Virginias per year that is needed by our nation.”

Plus, there are those on the U.S. side who aren't even sure we deserve these amazing submarines. The new co-ordinator of President Trump's ship-building unit, retired navy captain Jerry Hendrix, said, “I am not sure, given the political parties in Australia, whether the next administration that comes in will provide similar support to AUKUS as the present government.” He added later, "The Australians have been noticeably fickle."

Fickle? Well, yes, perhaps. You can suppose, from experience, when a superpower like the U.S. or the UK, sells a sophisticated weapon to a lesser power, say you and me, here in Australia, there is an unwritten compact that the weapons will deploy in their wars and not ours. And the U.S. voter may forget Australia has kept its side of these dreadful bargains. We have purchased weapons and fired them in anger in Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq, and God knows where next? Presumably China. Fickle? Well, yes. If China is next up on the list of Hire and Fire, you can forget fickle. Put me down as most definitely reluctant.

Looking back, when the AE2's commanding officer, the incredibly courageous Henry Dacre Stoker, wrote his memoir “Straws in the Wind,” he said, “We carried no (deck) gun. We longed for our own gun to enable us to remain on the surface and give them, the Turks, a fight.”

Here’s a thought. Why not spend all that money here at home? With 360 billion dollars, we could make university free again for Australian students, resuscitate the career paths for our science and research communities. Maybe even make our own defence mechanisms.

Buying big weapons has failed us before. It has been said, if you ignore history, you are doomed to repeat it. You can find the same sentiment engraved on war memorials all over our country. “Lest we forget.”

*Please note that the public domain photos, used here are available from the Australian War Memorial