Last WWI Q-Ship Faces Scrapping: HMS President Dismantling Set for July

A World War One Q-ship—one of the last tangible links to the Royal Navy's desperate U-boat war—is set to be dismantled at Chatham Docks in Kent as early as July. HMS President, originally HMS Saxifrage, has sat unused since 2016, hidden from public view. Now, with its berth owner closing the site, the vessel faces scrapping pending weather and tide conditions.

Daniel Broom, a campaigner with the Q-ship Society, calls the potential loss "disastrous." The ship is the last surviving warship of its kind, a disguised Q-ship built to lure and sink German submarines. "Once it's gone, it's gone," Broom told the BBC, echoing a sentiment familiar in maritime heritage circles where steel hulls and wooden decks vanish faster than institutional memory.

A Q-Ship's Hidden History

HMS Saxifrage was built in 1917 by Lobnitz & Co. of Renfrew, Scotland, and commissioned in March 1918. She belonged to the Anchusa-Flower class of sloops, a fleet of small, slow escort vessels named after flowers. Her namesake was London Pride, a plant that thrived in bombed-out ruins—a fitting metaphor for a ship designed to survive by deception.

The sloops were lightly armed but carried a secret: they were Q-ships. Historical accounts describe vessels disguised as ordinary merchant ships, complete with hidden 4-inch and 12-pounder guns. The tactic was simple. A German U-boat, unwilling to waste a torpedo on a small freighter, would surface to sink it by gunfire. The Q-ship crew would feign panic, sometimes even staging an "abandon ship" routine, before dropping the disguise and opening fire at close range.

Saxifrage was among the last examples of this class, playing an instrumental role at the tail end of WWI. After the war, she served as a Royal Navy drill ship on the Thames, renamed HMS President. A 1959 photograph shows her moored in London, a familiar silhouette for naval reservists. But since her relocation in 2016, she has been tucked away at commercial docks in Chatham, invisible to the public and increasingly vulnerable.

Corporate Burden, Owner Silence

The ship is moored at a site owned by ArcelorMittal Kent Wire, a steel company that announced in December it would close its Chatham Docks operation due to "the severity and scale of the challenges facing the business." The firm does not own the vessel. It agreed to berth HMS President in 2016, but says the owner has since "ignored requests" to take responsibility.

ArcelorMittal has borne the ongoing costs of maintaining the ship, including installing and running bilge pumps to keep it afloat. A spokesperson said the company explored relocation options but could not identify a viable location or plan. With the site closing, the warship will be "dismantled in accordance with all relevant safety and environmental regulations, and with the owner's consent." The company described the outcome as one "we regret" and noted it was reached "with great sadness."

The owner's identity remains undisclosed in public statements, and the silence has frustrated campaigners. The Q-ship Society, a non-profit organization, is spearheading efforts to find an alternative berth or buyer. But time is short. Dismantling is expected in July, though the exact date depends on weather and tides—a window that narrows with each passing day.

One of Three: The Fragile State of WWI Naval Heritage

HMS President is believed to be one of only three surviving Royal Navy vessels built during World War I. That statistic, even with the cautious "believed to be" qualifier, underscores how little remains of the fleet that fought the first modern naval war. Steel warships are expensive to preserve. They rust, they leak, and they require dry-docking, paint, and constant pumping. Unlike stone castles or bronze statues, ships demand active, expensive care—or they sink at their moorings.

The situation mirrors broader challenges in maritime heritage conservation. Historic vessels often fall into legal gray zones where ownership is unclear, responsibility is diffuse, and the costs of preservation outstrip the budgets of volunteer groups. The Q-ship Society's campaign is the latest in a long line of last-ditch efforts to save ships that governments and private owners have deemed too burdensome.

Campaigners argue that Saxifrage is not just a relic but a unique artifact of naval strategy. Q-ships were a response to unrestricted submarine warfare, a policy that nearly starved Britain into submission in 1917. The disguised sloops represented a tactical gamble—one that cost lives when U-boats caught on and began torpedoing suspected Q-ships without warning. Surviving examples are vanishingly rare. Most were sunk, scrapped, or lost to neglect decades ago.

What Happens Next

The immediate future depends on whether a viable relocation plan emerges before the dismantling crew arrives. ArcelorMittal has stated it cannot wait indefinitely. The company's Chatham closure is a business decision driven by market pressures, not a targeted move against heritage. But the result is the same: a historic warship will be cut up and sold for scrap unless someone steps forward with a funded, practical alternative.

The Q-ship Society continues to seek public support and potential berthing sites. Any relocation would need to address the same maintenance challenges that ArcelorMittal has shouldered alone—bilge pumps, hull integrity, and security. Without a committed owner or institution, even a last-minute move could simply delay the inevitable.

For now, HMS Saxifrage sits in Chatham, her guns long removed, her hull painted in civilian colors. She is a Q-ship still, in a way—hiding in plain sight, her significance invisible to most who pass by. Whether she survives depends on whether enough people see through the disguise before July's tides make the decision final.

Support the campaign: Visit the Q-ship Society's official page to learn how you can help save HMS President from scrapping this July.