A German WWI Submarine Washed Upon the Shore of an English Seaside Town 1919.

The Great War was over and hostilities had ceased. By the time of early spring in 1919 people of Britain were beginning to get back to normality after the Great War had changed so many lives. It was a war that many Britons had felt close too, even at home upon their island. Most wars before then had been fought across the sea in far off distant lands. Even wars in Europe had not troubled the civilian population the way the Great War had. But by 1919 it was over.

The people of the seaside town of Hastings had not known of an enemy invader since William the Conqueror in 1066.

On April the 15th 1919 the seaside town's inhabitants woke to a shock. Washed upon the shore was a monumental edifice of Kaiser Wilhelm II enemy navy. A dreaded submarine (SM U-118) The colossal structure looked like a beached whale.

In no time the inhabitants of Hastings were all upon the beach looking at the stricken fighting marine machine in their thousands. A huge lifeless vessel laying upon the shingle while the people walked about it like little ants in awe of the dead thing before them.

The British Admiralty gave the town clerk consent to charge a boarding fee to people who wanted to get up onto the submarine's deck. Also two members of the coastguard were drafted in to show visitors around the inside of the German submarine. This was quickly abandoned because the two coastguards who remained inside the sub, waiting for the visitors, became seriously ill. Shortly afterwards the two coast guards died. It was later realised that the batteries of the German submarine had been leaking deadly chlorine gas. This had caused the men's brains and lungs to burn, leaving acute and fatal abscesses.

The submarine had been surrendered to French forces after the armistice in November 1918. SM U -118 was being towed from France to Scapa Flow where it was to be broken up for scrape. It had been launched in May 1918. The vessel was virtually new. As it was being towed through the English channel, its hawser broke during a storm. It was cast adrift and ran aground on the beach at Hastings. 

There were a few attempts to drag the submarine back into the water and a French navel vessel tried to brake it up with explosives. None of this worked and the close proximity of civilian establishments forced the powers that be to brake the vessel up upon the shore between October and December 1919. All the salvage was sold for scrap.

Why do we want to do daring things?

What is it about absurdly daring things that transfix us? Walking a tightrope with a drop that would kill. There is nothing that can be gained from it. It does not further the human cause. It is something negative. Yet still I feel compelled to watch such people tweak the nose of danger. Sometimes danger bites back.

I think the observer gambles that the walker will not fall, but we watch in case he does. When this happens we recoil and think, 'Good God!' or other such things.

What of the daredevil who is compelled to try such things? What goes on in their mind? I can't stand heights and this is what I think draws me to watch. There is absolutely no way upon Earth, I would ever want to do such a thing, yet I'm drawn to watch someone try.

I remember watching Evel Knievel as a kid jumping the buses on a motorbike. I thought it was great, but I've never entertained the idea of trying it myself. Why do I watch such things. The Isle of Man TT motorbike racing is something else too. All these life threatening things and I get an adrenalin rush watching it. Why?

The other day I bought a DVD about a Frenchman who tightrope walked the Twin Towers back in the 70s. He sneaked in the equipment and secretly rigged the wire between both towers and then began his walk while police got to the top on both building waiting to arrest him. I found the documentary movie gripping and I still keep asking myself why? There is no way I would do it. I thought the walker was a total fruit loop, yet I was compelled to watch.