Twelve Little...

I became aware of this little ditty after attending one of the 'Third Thursday Talks' at the Royal Navy Submarine Museum. The talk was given by Tim Clayton, based on his book 'Sea Wolves'. 

It's about the first submarines of the S-class.

Twelve little S-boats "go to it" like Bevin,

Starfish goes a bit too far — then there were eleven.

Eleven watchful S-boats doing fine and then

Seahorse fails to answer — so there are ten.

Ten stocky S-boats in a ragged line,

Sterlet drops and stops out — leaving us nine.

Nine plucky S-boats, all pursuing Fate,

Shark is overtaken — now we are eight.

Eight sturdy S-boats, men from Hants and Devon,

Salmon now is overdue — and so the number's seven.

Seven gallant S-boats, trying all their tricks,

Spearfish tries a newer one — down we come to six.

Six tireless S-boats fighting to survive,

No reply from Swordfish — so we tally five.

Five scrubby S-boats, patrolling close inshore,

Snapper takes a short cut — now we are four.

Four fearless S-boats, too far out to sea,

Sunfish bombed and scrap-heaped — we are only three.

Three threadbare S-boats patrolling o'er the blue,

(from Wikipedia)

At the beginning of the war in 1939 there were 12 boats of the S-class, and these operated around the UK or North Sea. By the time HMS SNAPPER was lost, the war was barely a year old, 8 of the boats were lost and this poem reflects the high attrition rate. Of this batch of 12, 3 survived to meet a planned end, whilst HMS SUNFISH was transferred to the Russians and sunk in 1944 by the RAF.