Armour
The main armour belt was of twelve inches (305 mm) thickness, and ran from abreast of "A" barbette to abreast of "Y" barbette. The upper belt ran the same length along the ship, and was nine inches (229 mm) amidships, tapering at either end to eight inches (203 mm) . At normal loading the belt extended 16 feet 10.5 inches (5.144 m) above the waterline and 3 feet 7.5 inches (1.105 m) below it
The citadel, the central vital part of the ship on which depend both buoyancy and fighting ability, was closed forward by a bulkhead ten inches (254 mm) thick, running from the ends of the belt and merging with the forward armour of the barbette. Similarly, a ten-inch (254 mm) bulkhead closed the citadel after end. Both bulkheads tapered in thickness below the armoured deck; the forward one to six inches (152 mm), the after one to four inches (102 mm).
The turret faces were eleven inches (279 mm) thick; the sides, which were not expected to be turned to an opponent, were four inches (102 mm); the roofs were three inches (76 mm).
There were three armoured decks. The main deck was given 1.5 inches (38 mm) of armour; the middle deck 1-inch (25 mm); and the lower deck, which was designed as the main defence against plunging fire and lay immediately over the magazines, shell rooms and machinery spaces, was from one to two inches thick forward and from three to four inches (102 mm) thick aft.
The barbettes were covered with armour from three to ten inches (254 mm) thick, the amount depending on the degree of protection expected to be afforded by adjacent structures.
The conning tower received eleven inches (279 mm) of armour, and the after director tower six inches (152 mm).
Read more about this topic: HMS Ajax (1912)
Famous quotes containing the word armour:
“The man whose silent days
In harmless joys are spent,
Whom hopes cannot delude,
Nor sorrow discontent:
That man needs neither towers
Nor armour for defence,
Nor secret vaults to fly
From thunder’s violence.”
—Thomas Campion (1567–1620)
“Seven to eleven is a huge chunk of life, full of dulling and forgetting. It is fabled that we slowly lose the gift of speech with animals, that birds no longer visit our windowsills to converse. As our eyes grow accustomed to sight they armour themselves against wonder.”
—Leonard Cohen (b. 1934)
“Saint, do you weep? I hear amid the thunder
The Fenian horses; armour torn asunder;
Laughter and cries. The armies clash and shock,
And now the daylight-darkening ravens flock.
Cease, cease, O mournful, laughing Fenian horn!”
—William Butler Yeats (1865–1939)