THE MYSTERY OF THE FLEETS
_Movements of British Battleships Veiled in Secrecy--German
Dreadnoughts in North Sea and Baltic Ports--Activity
of Smaller Craft--English Keep Trade Routes Open--
Several Minor Battles at Sea_.
Shortly before war was declared a great review of the British navy was
held at Spithead, on the English Channel, when several hundred vessels
were gathered in mighty array for inspection by King George and the
lords of the Admiralty. The salutes they fired had hardly ceased to
reverberate along the shores of the Channel when the momentous struggle
was on. It found the British fleet fully mobilized and ready for action.
The ships had their magazines filled, their bunkers and oil tanks
charged, their victualing completed, and last, but not least, their full
crews aboard.
Then, without a moment's delay, they disappeared, under orders to
proceed to stations in the North Sea, to cruise in the Channel, the
Atlantic or the Mediterranean; to keep trade routes open for British and
neutral ships and capture or destroy the ships of the enemy. Silently
and swiftly they sailed, and for weeks the world knew little or nothing
of their movements or whereabouts.
Mystery equally deep shrouded the German fleet. In all probability it
lay under the guns of the coast cities and forts of Germany, but nothing
definite was permitted to leak out. The test of the two great navies,
the supreme test of dreadnoughts and superdreadnoughts, failed to
materialize, and for weeks the people of Great Britain and Germany could
only wonder what had become of their naval forces and why they did not
come into contact with each other. A few minor engagements in the North
Sea, in which light cruisers and torpedo-boat destroyers were concerned,
served only to deepen the mystery.
Only naval men and well-informed civilians realized that Germany was
biding her time, waiting to choose her own hour for action, realizing
the strength of the opposing force and determined not to risk her own
ships until the opportune moment should arrive which would offer the
best possible chances for success. And meanwhile the main British fleet
lay in the North Sea, waiting for the enemy to appear.
After a while letters began to come from the North Sea, telling of
the life aboard the vessels lying in wait, scouting or patrolling
the coasts. The ships were all stripped for action; all inflammable
ornaments and fittings had been left behind or cast overboard; stripped
and naked the fighting machines went to their task. All day long the
men were ready at their guns, and during the night each gun crew slept
around the weapon that it was their duty to serve, ready to repel any
destroyers or submarines coming out of the surrounding darkness to
attack them.
Vice-Admiral Sir John Jellicoe had assumed supreme command of the
British home fleet on August 4, with the rank of admiral. His chief
of staff was Rear Admiral Charles E. Madden. Rear Admiral Sir George
Callaghan was in command of the North Sea fleet.
AN ADMIRALTY ANNOUNCEMENT
On Thursday, September 10, the secretary of the British Admiralty made
the following announcement: "Yesterday and today strong and numerous
squadrons and flotillas have made a complete sweep of the North Sea up
to and into the Heligoland Bight. The German fleet made no attempt to
interfere with our movements and no German ship of any kind was seen at
sea."
That much patience had to be exercised by the seamen of the North Sea
fleet is evidenced by a letter in which the writer said to his family,
"If you want to get away from the excitement of war, you should be here
with me." This situation, of course, might be changed at a moment's
notice. The London Times said in September: "It is not to be wondered at
if our seamen today envy a little the old-time sailors who did not have
to compete with such things as mines, destroyers and submarines. In the
accounts of the old blockades we read how by means of music and dancing,
and even theatrical entertainments, the monotonous nature of the work
was counteracted, and the officers of the ships, including Nelson and
other great commanders, welcomed these diversions for the prevention of
the evils which might be bred by enforced idleness. It is a true saying
that everything that stagnates corrupts. There is no possible chance of
the crews of our modern vessels stagnating under the new conditions of
war. Whether engaged in blockading in the big ships, scouting in the
cruisers, or patrolling the coasts in the destroyers, the life is
described as tremendously interesting and exciting. There has been no
sense of monotony whatever. Indeed, the conditions are such that, were
it not obligatory for portions of every crew to take rest, all of them
would be continually on the alert. We may be certain that arrangements
have been made for ensuring that the crews obtain periods of relaxation
from the constant strain; but the only real change comes in the big
ships when they have of necessity to refill their bunkers."
LOSS OF THE CRUISER AMPHION
The cruiser Amphion was the first British war vessel lost in the war.
The survivors on landing at the North Sea port of Harwich, England,
on August 10, stated that hardly had they left Harwich than they
were ordered to clear the decks for action. They sighted the German
mine-laying vessel Koenigin Luise, and, as it refused to stop even when
a shot was fired across its bows, they gave chase.
The German ship fired and then the destroyers, accompanying the Amphion,
surrounded and sank it after a brief combined bombardment.
The captain, it is said, was beside himself with fury. He had a revolver
in his hand and threatened his men as they prepared to surrender to the
rescuing ships. He flatly refused to give himself up and was taken by
force.
When the smoke of a big ship was seen on the horizon the Amphion gave
chase, firing a warning shot as it drew near the vessel, which at once
made known its identity as the Harwich boat St. Petersburg, carrying
Prince Lichnowsky, the German ambassador, to the Hook of Holland. While
returning to port came the tragedy of the Amphion. As it struck a sunken
mine it gave two plunging jerks. Then came an explosion which ripped up
its forepart, shot up its funnels like arrows from a bow, and lifted
its heavy guns into the air. The falling material struck several of the
boats of the flotilla and injured some of the men on board them.
The Amphion's men were dreadfully burned and scalded and had marks on
their faces and bodies which resembled splashes of acid.
The scene at Harwich was like that which follows a colliery explosion.
Of the British seamen in the hospital thirteen were suffering from
severe burns, five from less serious burns, two from the effects of
lyddite fumes, and one each from concussion, severe injury, slight
wounds, shock, and slight burns. A few wounded German sailors also lay
in the hospital.
SINKING A GERMAN SUBMARINE
On August 12 there came from Edinburgh the story of an eyewitness of a
naval battle in the North Sea on the previous Sunday between British
cruisers and German submarines, in which the German submarine U-15 was
sunk.
"The cruiser squadron on Sunday," the story ran, "suddenly became aware
of the approach of the submarine flotilla. The enemy was submerged, only
the periscopes showing above the surface of the water.
"The attitude of the British in the face of this attack was cool and the
enemy was utterly misled when suddenly the cruiser Birmingham, steaming
at full speed, fired the first shot. This shot was carefully aimed,
not at the submerged body of a submarine, but at the thin line of the
periscope.
"The gunnery was superbly accurate and shattered the periscope.
Thereupon the submarine, now a blinded thing, rushed along under water
in imminent danger of self-destruction from collision with the cruisers
above.
"The sightless submarine was then forced to come to the surface,
whereupon the Birmingham's gunner fired the second shot of the fight.
This shot struck at the base of the conning tower, ripping the whole of
the upper structure clean and the U-15 sank like a stone.
"The remainder of the submarine flotilla fled." NAVAL BATTLE OFF
HELIGOLAND
In the last week of August a naval engagement occurred off the island
of Heligoland, in the North Sea. British war vessels sank five German
ships, killing 900 men. A graphic description of the engagement was
given by a young lieutenant who was on one of the British torpedo boat
destroyers:
"I think the home papers are magnifying what really was but an affair of
outposts. We destroyers went in and lured the enemy out and had lots of
excitement. The big fellows then came up and afforded some excellent
target practice, and we were very glad to see them come; but it was a
massacre, not a fight.
"There was superb generalship and overwhelming forces on the spot, but
there was really nothing for them to do except to shoot the enemy, even
as father shoots pheasants.
"Have you ever noticed a dog rush in on a flock of sheep and scatter
them? He goes for the nearest and barks and goes so much faster than
the flock that it bunches up with its companions. The dog then barks at
another and the sheep spread out fanwise, so in front of the dog there
is a semicircle of sheep and behind him none.
"That was much what we did at 7 a. m. on August 28. The sheep were the
German torpedo craft, which fell back on the limits of our range and
tried to lure us within the fire of the Heligoland forts. But a
cruiser then came out and engaged our Arethusa and they had a real
heart-to-heart talk, while we looked on, and a few of us tried to shoot
at the enemy, too, though it was beyond our distance.
"We were getting nearer Heligoland all the time. There was a thick mist
and I expected every minute to find the forts on the island bombarding
us, so the Arethusa presently drew off after landing at least one good
shell on the enemy. The enemy gave every hit as good as he got there.
"We then reformed, but a strong destroyer belonging to the submarines
got chased, and the Arethusa and Fearless went back to look after it. We
presently heard a hot action astern, so the captain in command of the
flotilla turned us around and we went back to help. But they had driven
the enemy off and on our arrival told us to 'form up' on the Arethusa.
CRUISER FIRES ON SHIPS
"When we had partly formed and were very much bunched together, making a
fine target, suddenly out of the mist arrived five or six shells from a
point not 150 yards away. We gazed at whence they came and again five
or six stabs of fire pierced the fog, and we made out a four-funneled
German cruiser of the Breslau class.
"Those stabs were its guns going off. We waited fifteen seconds and the
shots and noise of its guns arrived pretty well from fifty yards away.
Its next salvo of shots went above us, and I ducked as they whirred
overhead like a covey of fast partridges.
"You would suppose our captain had done this sort of thing all his life.
He went full speed ahead at once, upon the first salvo, to string the
bunch out and thus offer less target. The commodore from the Arethusa
made a signal to us to attack with torpedoes. So we swung round at right
angles and charged full speed at the enemy like a hussar attack.
"Our boat got away at the start magnificently and led the field, so all
the enemy's firing was aimed at us for the next ten minutes, when we got
so close that debris from their shells fell on board. Then we altered
our course and so threw them out in their reckoning of our speed, and
they had all their work to do over again.
"Humanly speaking, our captain by twisting and turning at psychological
moments saved us. Actually, I feel that we were in God's keeping that
day. After ten minutes we got near enough to fire our torpedo. Then we
turned back to the Arethusa. Next our follower arrived just where we had
been and fired its torpedo, and of course the enemy fired at it instead
of at us. What a blessed relief!
"After the destroyers came the Fearless, and it stayed on the scene.
Soon we found it was engaging a three-funneler, the Mainz, so off we
started again, now for the Mainz, the situation being that the crippled
Arethusa was too tubby to do anything but be defended by us, its
children.
"Scarcely, however, had we started when, from out of the mist and across
our front, in furious pursuit came the first cruiser squadron of the
town class, the Birmingham, and each unit a match for three like the
Mainz, which was soon sunk. As we looked and reduced speed they opened
fire, and the clear bang-bang of their guns was just like a cooling
drink.
"To see a real big four-funneler spouting flame, which flame denoted
shells starting, and those shells not at us but for us, was the most
cheerful thing possible. Once we were in safety, I hated it. We had just
been having our own imaginations stimulated on the subject of shells
striking.
"Now, a few minutes later, to see another ship not three miles away,
reduced to a piteous mass of unrecognizability, wreathed in black fumes
from which flared out angry gusts of fire like Vesuvius in eruption,
as an unending stream of hundred-pound shells burst on board it, just
pointed the moral and showed us what might have been.
"The Mainz was immensely gallant. The last I saw of it it was absolutely
wrecked. It was a fuming inferno. But it had one gun forward and one aft
still spitting forth fury and defiance like a wild cat.
"Then we went west, while they went east. Just a bit later we heard the
thunder of the enemy's guns for a space. Then fell silence, and we knew
that was all.
A MARVELOUS RESCUE
"The most romantic, dramatic, and piquant episode that modern war can
ever show came next. The Defender, having sunk an enemy, lowered a
whaler to pick up its swimming survivors. Before the whaler got back,
an enemy's cruiser came up and chased the Defender, which thus had to
abandon its small boat.
"Imagine their feelings, alone in an open boat without food, twenty-five
miles from the nearest land, and that land an enemy's fortress, with
nothing but fog and foes around them, and then suddenly a swirl
alongside, and up, if you please, hops His Britannic Majesty's submarine
E-4, opens its conning tower, takes them all on board, shuts up again,
dives and brings them home, 250 miles."
THREE BRITISH CRUISERS SUNK
On Tuesday morning, September 22, the British cruisers Aboukir, Cressy
and Hogue were torpedoed and sunk by a German submarine in the North
Sea. Each of the vessels carried a crew of about 650 men, and the total
of the death roll was about 1,400.
The three cruisers had for some time been patrolling the North Sea. Soon
after 6 o'clock in the morning the Aboukir suddenly felt a shock on the
port side. A dull explosion was heard and a column of water was thrown
up mast high. The explosion wrecked the stokehold just forward of
amidships: and tore the bottom open.
Almost immediately the doomed cruiser began to settle. Except for the
watch on deck, most of the crew were asleep, wearied by the constant
vigil in bad weather, but in perfect order the officers and men rushed
to quarters. The quick-firers were manned in the hope of a dying shot at
the submarine, but there was not a glimpse of one.
Meanwhile the Aboukir's sister cruisers, more than a mile away, saw and
heard the explosion and thought the Aboukir had struck a mine. They
closed in and lowered boats. This sealed their own fate, for, while
they were standing by to rescue survivors, first the Hogue and then the
Cressy was torpedoed.
Only the Cressy appears to have seen the submarine in time to attempt to
retaliate, and she fired a few shots before she keeled over, broken in
two, and sank.
British naval officers by this time were beginning to wonder how long
the German high seas fleet intended to remain under cover in the Kiel
canal.
"Our only grievance," one said, "is that we have not had a shot at the
Germans. Our only share of the war has been a few uncomfortable weeks of
bad weather, mines and submarines."
A number of the survivors were taken to the Dutch port of Ymuiden, where
they were interned as technical prisoners of war.
THE GERMAN COMMANDER'S STORY
The German submarine which accomplished the hitherto unparalleled feat
was the U-9, in command of Capt.-Lieut. Otto Weddigen, whose interesting
story was given to the public through the German Admiralty on October 6,
as follows:
"I set out from a North Sea port on one of the arms of the Kiel canal
and set my course in a southwesterly direction. The name of the port I
cannot state officially, but it was not many days before the morning of
September 22 when I fell in with my quarry.
"British torpedo-boats came within my reach, but I felt there was bigger
game further on, so on I went. It was ten minutes after six in the
morning of the 22nd when I caught sight of one of the big cruisers of
the enemy.
"I was then eighteen sea miles northwesterly of the Hook of Holland. I
had traveled considerably more than 200 miles from my base. I had been
going ahead partially submerged, with about five feet of my periscope
showing.
"Almost immediately I caught sight of the first cruiser and two others.
I submerged completely and laid my course in order to bring up in center
of the trio, which held a sort of triangular formation. I could see
their gray-black sides riding high over the water.
"When I first sighted them they were near enough for torpedo work, but I
wanted to make my aim sure, so I went down and in on them. I had taken
the position of the three ships before submerging, and I succeeded in
getting another flash through my periscope before I began action. I soon
reached what I regarded as a good shooting point.
"Then I loosed one of my torpedoes at the middle ship. I was then about
twelve feet under water and got the shot off in good shape, my men
handling the boat as if it had been a skiff. I climbed to the surface to
get a sight through my tube of the effect and discovered that the shot
had gone straight and true, striking the ship, which I later learned was
the Aboukir, under one of its magazines, which in exploding helped the
torpedo's work of destruction.
"There was a fountain of water, a burst of smoke, a flash of fire, and
part of the cruiser rose in the air.
STRIKES THE SECOND CRUISER
"Its crew were brave and, even with death staring them in the face, kept
to their posts. I submerged at once. But I had stayed on top long enough
to see the other cruisers, which I learned were the Cressy and the
Hogue, turn and steam full speed to their dying sister.
"As I reached my torpedo depth I sent a second charge at the nearest of
the oncoming vessels, which was the Hogue. The English were playing my
game, for I had scarcely to move out of my position, which was a great
aid, since it helped to keep me from detection.
"The attack on the Hogue went true. But this time I did not have the
advantageous aid of having the torpedo detonate under the magazine, so
for twenty minutes the Hogue lay wounded and helpless on the surface
before it heaved, half turned over, and sank.
"By this time the third cruiser knew, of course, that the enemy was
upon it, and it sought as best it could to defend itself. It loosed its
torpedo defense batteries on bows, star-board, and port, and stood its
ground as if more anxious to help the many sailors in the water than to
save itself.
"In the common method of defending itself against a submarine attack, it
steamed in a zigzag course, and this made it necessary for me to hold my
torpedoes until I could lay a true course for them, which also made it
necessary for me to get nearer to the Cressy.
"I had to come to the surface for a view, and saw how wildly the fire
was being sent from the ship. Small wonder that was when they did not
know where to shoot, although one shot went unpleasantly near us.
"When I got within suitable range I sent away my third attack. This
time I sent a second torpedo after the first to make the strike doubly
certain. My crew were aiming like sharpshooters and both torpedoes went
to their bull's-eye. My luck was with me again, for the enemy was made
useless and at once began sinking by the head. Then it careened far
over, but all the while its men stayed at the guns looking for their
invisible foe.
"They were brave and true to their country's sea traditions. Then it
eventually suffered a boiler explosion and completely turned turtle.
With its keel uppermost it floated until the air got out from under it
and then it sank with a loud sound, as if from a creature in pain.
"The whole affair had taken less than one hour from the time of shooting
off the first torpedo until the Cressy went to the bottom.
"I set my course for home. Before I got far some British cruisers and
destroyers were on the spot and the destroyers took up the chase.
"I kept under water most of the way, but managed to get off a wireless
to the German fleet that I was heading homeward and being pursued. But
although British destroyers saw me plainly at dusk on the 22d and made
a final effort to stop me, they abandoned the attempt, as it was taking
them too far from safety and needlessly exposing them to attack from our
fleet and submarines."
MERCHANTMEN CAPTURED AND SUNK
During the first months of the war a large number of merchant vessels,
principally German and British, were captured or sunk. According to a
British Admiralty return, issued September 28, twelve British ships with
an aggregate tonnage of 59,331 tons had been sunk on the high seas by
German cruisers up to September 23. Eight other British ships, whose
tonnage aggregated 2,970, had been sunk by German mines in the North
Sea, and 24 fishing craft, with a tonnage of 4,334, had been captured or
sunk by the Germans in the same waters. British ships detained at German
ports numbered 74, with a total tonnage of 170,000.
On the other side the Admiralty reported 102 German ships, with a total
tonnage of 200,000, detained in British ports since the outbreak of the
war; while 88 German ships, of an aggregate tonnage of 338,000, had been
captured since hostilities began.
The return also showed that 168 German ships, with an aggregate tonnage
of 283,000, had been detained or captured by the Allies. Fifteen ships,
with a tonnage of 247,000, were detained in American ports, while
fourteen others, with a tonnage of 72,000, remained in the Suez Canal.
The German mines in the North Sea had also destroyed seven Scandinavian
ships, with a tonnage of 11,098.
GERMAN CRUISERS ACTIVE
Several German cruisers were amazingly active in distant waters early
in the war. Among these were the Goeben, Breslau, Emden, Karlsruhe, and
Leipzig, which captured or sank a number of vessels of the enemy. The
German cruisers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau also operated in the Pacific,
bombarding the French colony of Papeete, on the island of Tahiti, and
inflicting much damage, including the sinking of two vessels.
On August 26 the big converted German liner Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse,
while cruising on the northwest coast of Africa, was sunk by the British
cruiser Highflyer.
The German cruiser Dresden was reported sunk by British cruisers in
South American waters in the second week of September. The Emden,
operating under the German flag in the Indian Ocean, sank several
British steamers. Several Austrian vessels succumbed to mines off the
coast of Dalmatia and in the Baltic there were a number of casualties
in which both Russian and German cruisers suffered. The Russian armored
cruiser Bayan was sunk in a fight near the entrance to the Gulf of
Finland.
On September 20 the German protected cruiser Koenigsberg attacked the
British light cruiser Pegasus in the harbor of Zanzibar and disabled
her. Off the east coast of South America the British auxiliary cruiser
Carmania, a former Cunard liner, destroyed a German merchant cruiser
mounting eight four-inch guns. About the same time the German cruiser
Hela was sunk in the North Sea by the British submarine E-9. The
Kronprinz Wilhelm, a former German liner, which had been supplying coal
to German cruisers in the Atlantic, was also sunk by the British.
GERMAN COLONY OCCUPIED
The British Admiralty announced on September 12 that the Australian
fleet had occupied Herbertshoehe, on Blanche Bay, the seat of government
of the German Bismarck Archipelago and the Solomon Islands.
The Bismarck Archipelago, with an area of 18,000 square miles and a
population of 200,000, is off the north coast of Australia and southwest
of the Philippine Islands. The group was assigned to the German sphere
of influence by an agreement with Great Britain in 1885. German New
Guinea was included in the jurisdiction.
GERMANS SINK RUSS CRUISER
On October 11 German submarines in the Baltic torpedoed and sank the
Russian armored cruiser Pallada with all its crew, numbering 568 men.
The Pallada had a displacement of 7,775 tons and was a sister ship of
the Admiral Makarov and Bayan. She was launched in November, 1906, and
had a water-line length of 443 feet; beam, 57 feet; draft of 21-1/
feet, and a speed of 21 knots. She carried two 8-inch, eight 6-inch,
twenty-two 12-pounders, four 3-pounders, and two torpedo tubes. Seven
inches of Krupp armor protected the vessel amidships and four inches
forward.
The Pallada was engaged in patrolling the Baltic with the Admiral
Makarov when attacked by the submarines. She opened a strong fire on
them, but was blown up by a torpedo launched by one of the submerged
craft, while the Makarov escaped.
BRITISH CRUISER HAWKE SUNK
On October 15th, while the British cruisers Hawke and Theseus were
patrolling the northern waters of the North Sea, they were attacked by a
German submarine. The Hawke, a cruiser of 7,750 tons, commanded by
Capt. H.P.E.T. Williams, was torpedoed and sank in eight minutes. Only
seventy-three of her crew of 400 officers and men were saved.
BRITISH AVENGE AMPHION'S LOSS
Capt. Cecil H. Fox, who was in command of the British cruiser Amphion
when she was destroyed by a German mine early in the war, had his
revenge on October 17, when, in command of the cruiser Undaunted, he
sank four German torpedo boat destroyers off the coast of Holland. Only
31 of the combined crews of 400 men were saved and these were taken as
prisoners of war.