_The Great Collapse_
“_The Board of Admiralty desire to express to the officers and men
of the Royal Navy and Royal Marines on the completion of their great
work their congratulations on a triumph to which history knows no
parallel._”
They came in flying the White Ensign, which was the cleanest thing about
them. Only a few weeks before the commanders of these same bedraggled
U-boats had boasted of defying the world; now they had been brought to
heel like a pack of whipped curs. German officers and men were taking
part in the biggest collapse in naval history; their conquerors in the
greatest triumph. At Beatty’s bidding they meekly surrendered their
piratical craft at the rate of a score a day for a week or more. The
bluejackets at Harwich rechristened the Stour “U-boat Avenue” when the
captives were given floating-room in its sluggish waters.
[Illustration:
Entry of the Surrendered U-Boats into Harwich, November 20, 1918
E. S. Hodgson
]
On the 9th November, 1918, Sir Eric Geddes gave it as his opinion that
the High Sea Fleet had “gone mad” because it “dared not fight” and
because it “had not got a good cause.” That is the psychological
explanation, true to fact and experience. Its _moral_ broke down, which
is another way of saying that it lost its nerve. When ordered to put to
sea on the 28th October, 1918, ostensibly for manœuvres, but in reality
as a gambler’s last hazardous throw of the dice, the German Fleet
mutinied in a far more thorough manner than had obtained a few months
previously.
At Wilhelmshaven about one thousand sailors were imprisoned for taking
part in the mutiny; Kiel, on the other hand, went wholly ‘red,’ as did
also the commercial ports of Hamburg, Bremen, and Lübeck. Soviets came
into being, a Workers’ and Soldiers’ Council was formed, Bolshevism was
openly preached, fireworks were let off at Wilhelmshaven in honour of
the German Republic.
Apart from the moral issue, three main causes led to the defection of
the German Navy. It did not fight because the Battle of Jutland had
proved the vast superiority of the Grand Fleet; it did not want to fight
because the complements of the vessels were mainly landsmen by
upbringing and inclination; it had no heart to fight because the U-boat
campaign had failed to win the war according to promise, or even to
shake Britain’s resolution by one iota. Probably the ultimate and
determining factor was the frightful mortality among the submersibles.
When the High Sea Fleet failed at Jutland the U-boat campaign was
undertaken in real earnest; when that failed the mutiny took place. The
death-rate toward the end was frightful. Of 360 submarines launched
during 1914–18, 200 were sunk or captured.
That Germany made a bold bid for triumph cannot be gainsaid. There were
times when the Allied Admiralties regarded the situation as critical.
The statistics of the matter are instructive, though not pleasing. From
first to last Great Britain lost 9,000,000 tons of shipping, while
Allies and neutrals suffered to the extent of a further 6,000,000 tons.
In addition there were eighty British vessels, with an aggregate tonnage
of 172,554, held up in German ports during hostilities, an amount by no
means to be despised, although it is small compared with the enemy
tonnage captured and brought into Allied service. The latter reached the
respectable figure of 2,392,675. British naval casualties totalled
39,766 in killed, wounded, interned, and captured. In the Merchant
Service 14,661 lost their lives, and 3,295 were taken prisoners. War in
the Underseas was waged at frightful cost to all belligerents, both
vanquished and victors. Taking British losses by enemy action and marine
risks during the war, the worst quarters were in this order: second
quarter of 1917, third, first, and last quarters of the same year, and
first quarter of 1918 and last quarter of 1916. In April 1917, 555,000
tons of British shipping were sent to the bottom. Had things gone on at
that rate, “we were in deadly danger; had it gone on for nine months we
were ruined.”[34] In September 1918 the depletion had been reduced to
151,000 tons.
Captain Persius asserts that, following the action off the Danish coast,
twenty-three battleships were disarmed for the purpose of obtaining
metal for constructing U-boats—excellent proof of the grip of the
blockade and of the British victory at Jutland. His figures regarding
underseas craft are a little difficult to follow, because he only deals
with what he calls ‘front submarines,’ presumably those definitely on
active service and not merely patrolling in home waters. In April 1917,
he says, Germany had 126 U-boats, in the following October 146; in
February 1918 she possessed 136; in June of the same year, 113. In
January 1917 only 12 per cent. were at sea, 30 per cent. in harbour, 38
per cent. under repair, and 20 per cent. incapacitated. His most
important admission is that the ill-trained crews had no confidence in
their craft, and that toward the end of the campaign it was difficult to
get men to work them. He flatly contradicts the assertion that losses
were made up by new construction.
Apart from the offensive operations of the Navy proper, the defensive
equipment of traders and the introduction of the convoy system in the
summer of 1917 were of enormous importance in thwarting the submarine.
In addition to merchant shipping and munitions 16,000,000 fighting men
were escorted, and of these less than 5000 met with disaster.
Sea-power worked miracles in other directions. “The blockade,” says Sir
Eric Geddes,[35] “is what crushed the life out of the Central Empires.”
That was the work of the 10th Cruiser Squadron. From 1914 to 1917 the
ships of that squadron “held the 800 miles stretch of grey sea from the
Orkneys to Iceland. In those waters they intercepted 15,000 ships taking
succour to our enemies, and they did that under almost Arctic
conditions, and mainly in the teeth of storm and blizzard; out of that
15,000 they missed just 4 per cent., a most remarkable achievement under
impossible conditions. Behind the blockade was the Grand Fleet, the
fulcrum of the whole of the sea-power of the Allies. If ever testimony
were needed of the value of sea-power, I can give it. In every
individual case when an armistice was signed by our enemies, and in one,
if not two, cases before, the one cry that went up was, ‘Release the
blockade.’”
Admiral Sir Percy Scott holds that four years of U-boat warfare have
“tragically demonstrated the truth” of his neglected warning, but he
also acknowledges that the Navy did not fail us. “From the first,” to
quote the apostle of the submarines, “Great Britain kept command of the
seas.” His prophecy of 1914 that the day of the big surface ship was
over has not been fulfilled, though the submarine may become the capital
ship of the future. He contends that if Germany could have placed 200
U-boats on the ocean trade routes at the outbreak of war she would have
defeated the Allies. She might have done so, but the important fact is
that she did not possess the requisite number. At that time we were
lamentably short of light craft, German cruisers and raiders were
running amok in various parts of the world, and the Grand Fleet was
fully occupied ‘containing’ the main German squadrons. Given the
hypothetical conditions mentioned by the Admiral, it is not improbable
that the enemy would “have defeated the Allies and practically conquered
the world,” but it is not “certain,” as Sir Percy asserts. Germany
regarded the intensified U-boat campaign as a sure thing; we know the
result. In his now famous letter to the _Times_, one of the eminent
correspondent’s contentions was that “the introduction of vessels that
swim under water has already done away with the utility of ships that
swim on the top of the water,” that “as the motor vehicle has driven the
horse from the road, so has the submarine driven the battleship from the
sea.” The Great War of 1914–18 disproved this very definite statement,
and witnessed the introduction of mighty ‘hush’ ships which lived and
moved and had their being on the surface of great waters.
On the other hand we should be crass fools if we neglected the lessons
of the war as regards the latest naval arm. The records of British
submarines are eloquent of their effectiveness. Summed up they amount to
this: Two battleships sunk and three badly damaged; two armoured
cruisers destroyed; two light cruisers sunk and one badly damaged. The
long obituary list also included seven torpedo-boats, five gunboats,
twenty submarines, five armed auxiliaries, fourteen transports, two
store ships, half a dozen ammunition and supply ships, fifty-three
steamships, 197 sailing vessels, and one Zeppelin, making a grand total
of 315 vessels dead and buried. As to the sea-going qualities of the
craft, one British commander made twenty-four cruises, covering 22,000
miles, in a year, while in a single month British submarines navigated
105,768 sea miles, one mile in every ten being in the submerged
position. We have seen in previous chapters that the Allied naval
losses, while they made no appreciable difference to the situation, were
not negligible. Approximately 230 fighting ships were lost from all
causes by Great Britain during the war.
Without going so far as Mr Arthur Pollen, whose opinion regarding the
submarine is that, “viewed strictly as a form of sea force, it is the
feeblest and least effective that has ever been seen,” all available
facts show that warships travelling at a good speed are comparatively
immune from attack. There is also little danger when they are going
slowly, provided they have a covering screen of destroyers. The majority
of battleships and cruisers that fell victims to U-boats were taking
life easy, as for instance the _Aboukir_, the _Cressy_, and the _Hogue_
in the North Sea, and the _Formidable_ in the Channel.
The Great Collapse revealed no new wonders, though the cargo-carrying
_Deutschland_, converted into a ‘front submarine’ and mounting 5.9–in.
guns, was a sight for the gods as she lay floating on the bosom of old
Father Thames. Another former commercial cruiser, U 139, had just
returned to the Fatherland after a voyage of sixty-four days with a
company of ninety-one, fifteen of whom were specially detailed for
manning prizes. One ugly brute, believed to have been responsible for
the sinking of 47,000 tons of shipping, carried forty-two mines and
twenty-two torpedoes. Perhaps the most interesting discovery was a
cat-o’-nine-tails stained with blood, extracted from under the bunk of a
certain U-boat commander. Two sailors were so enamoured of their own
country that they had to be persuaded to go on board the transport at
the point of a revolver. One commander, in handing over his signed
declaration, was good enough to remark, “We shall be coming over again
for them soon.” Another officer explained that his periscope was missing
and his compass gave an incorrect reading because a steamer had ‘sat’ on
his boat, while a British Lieutenant-Commander had the satisfaction of
piloting a submarine he had once attacked in German waters. Another boat
was brand-new from the shipbuilding yard. Nearly all were camouflaged.
The majority of the submarines surrendered were certainly not of the
cruiser type, about which one heard so much during the war, although in
the first batch to reach Harwich was a monster 340 ft. long, with a
displacement of 2300 tons and accommodation for a crew of seventy. The
remainder were mostly of 800 tons displacement, 225 ft. long, and 22 ft.
beam.
It has taken ten centuries to make the British Navy; it took four and a
quarter years for the Senior Service to secure the surrender of its most
formidable rival in the greatest Sea Conquest of all time.
-----
Footnote 1:
Now Vice-Admiral Sir Reginald H. S. Bacon, K.C.B., K.C.V.O., D.S.O.
Footnote 2:
Reply of Mr Bonar Law to Mr G. Lambert and Commander Bellairs in the
House of Commons, 5th March, 1918.
Footnote 3:
Fulton’s report, 9th September, 1801.
Footnote 4:
Readers who wish for further details of Fulton will find them in
_Robert Fulton, Engineer and Artist, his Life and Works_, by H. W.
Dickinson, A.M.I.Mech.E. (London, 1913), and other documentary
evidence in _Projets et Tentatives de débarquement aux Iles
Britanniques_, by Édouard Desbrière (Paris, 1902), vol. ii, pp.
255–259, 279–280.
Footnote 5:
Speech of 27th April, 1917.
Footnote 6:
In this connexion see particularly Chapter X.
Footnote 7:
Proclamation of 5th February, 1915.
Footnote 8:
Note to the German Minister in Mexico, dated Berlin, 19th January,
1917.
Footnote 9:
Speech in the House of Lords, 10th August, 1917.
Footnote 10:
Dated 1st March, 1915.
Footnote 11:
Sir Edward Grey to Mr Page, 15th March, 1915.
Footnote 12:
Sir Edward Grey to Mr Page, 15th March, 1915.
Footnote 13:
In the Reichstag Main Committee, 28th April, 1917.
Footnote 14:
Speech in the Reichstag, July 1917.
Footnote 15:
Heard before Mr Justice Hill and Elder Brethren of the Trinity House,
20th March, 1918.
Footnote 16:
Speech delivered in Sheffield, 24th October, 1917. In reviewing the
naval situation in the House of Commons on the 27th November, 1914, Mr
Churchill had remarked that “our power in submarines is much greater
than that of our enemies.”
Footnote 17:
The United States had not then declared war.
Footnote 18:
See _post_, p. 161.
Footnote 19:
21st February, 1917.
Footnote 20:
An Englishman, who started the famous engineering works in Belgium at
Seraing at the early age of twenty-seven.
Footnote 21:
By the English-Speaking Union, 11th October, 1918.
Footnote 22:
See _ante_, pp. 35–38.
Footnote 23:
I have dealt with the loss of the three cruisers and of the
_Formidable_ at much greater length in _Stirring Deeds of Britain’s
Sea-dogs_, pp. 159–174, 292–302.
Footnote 24:
Now Admiral Lord Beresford.
Footnote 25:
Italy was then a neutral.
Footnote 26:
We should call S 126 a destroyer, but the term is unknown in the
German Navy. All vessels of the type are dubbed torpedo-boats,
irrespective of size.
Footnote 27:
See _post_, p. 297.
Footnote 28:
More detailed particulars will be found in my _Daring Deeds of
Merchant Seamen_, p. 221, and _Stirring Deeds of Britain’s Sea-dogs_,
p. 275.
Footnote 29:
Now Captain.
Footnote 30:
These were duly put in commission.
Footnote 31:
See _post_, p. 264.
Footnote 32:
See _ante_, p. 128.
Footnote 33:
_Daring Deeds of Merchant Seamen in the Great War_ (Harrap, 1918).
Footnote 34:
Sir L. Chiozza Money in the House of Commons, 14th November, 1918.
Footnote 35:
Speech at the Grosvenor Galleries, 4th December, 1918.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.
2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.
3. Footnotes were re-indexed using numbers and collected together at
the end of the last chapter.
4. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
End of Project Gutenberg's War in the Underseas, by Harold F. B. Wheeler