DECISIVE BATTLE BETWEEN GERMAN FLEET AND AMERICAN SEAPLANES CARRYING
TORPEDOES
I did as he bade me and was rewarded a week later for my faith and
patience. I subsequently learned that this week (the time of my wonderful
experience with Mary Ryerson) was spent by the Committee of Twenty-one in
explaining to the Crown Prince exactly what the Widding-Edison invention
was. Models and blue prints were shown and American and German experts
were called in to explain and discuss all debatable points. And the
conclusion, established beyond reasonable doubt, was that German warships
could not hope to defend themselves against the Widding-Edison method of
torpedo attack. This was admitted by Field Marshal von Hindenburg and by
Professor Hugo Münsterberg, who were allowed to bring scientists of their
own choosing for an absolutely impartial opinion. Unless terms were made
the German fleet faced almost certain destruction.
The Crown Prince was torn by the hazards of this emergency. He could not
disregard such a weight of evidence. He knew that, without the support of
her fleet, Germany must abandon her whole campaign in the United States
and withdraw her forces from the soil of America. This meant failure and
humiliation, perhaps revolution at home. The fate of the Hohenzollern
dynasty might hang upon his decision.
“Gentlemen,” he concluded haughtily, “I refuse to yield. If I cable the
Imperial Government in Berlin it will be a strong expression of my wish
that our new army of invasion, under convoy of the German fleet, sail
from Kiel, as arranged, and join in the invasion of America at the
earliest possible moment.”
And so it befell. On January 24th a first section of the new German
expedition, numbering 150,000 men, sailed for America. On January 29th
our advance fleet of swift scouting aeroplanes, equipped with wireless
and provisioned for a three days’ cruise, flew forth from Grand Island in
the Niagara River, and, following the St. Lawrence, swept out over the
Atlantic in search of the advancing Teutons.
Two days later wireless messages received in Buffalo informed us that
German transports, with accompanying battleships, had been located off
the banks of Newfoundland and on February 1st our main fleet of
aeroboats, a hundred huge seaplanes, equipped with Widding-Edison
torpedoes, sailed away over Lake Erie in line of battle, flying towards
the northeast at the height of half a mile, ready for the struggle that
was to settle the fate of the United States. The prayers of a hundred
million Americans went with them.
And now Mr. Edison kept his promise generously by securing for me the
privilege of accompanying him in a great 900-horse-power seaplane from
which, with General Wood, he proposed to witness our attack upon the
enemy.
“We may have another passenger,” said the General mysteriously as we
stamped about in our heavy coats on the departure field, for it was a
cold morning.
“All aboard,” called out the pilot presently from his glass-sheltered
seat and I had just taken my place in the right hand cabin when the sound
of several swiftly arriving motors drew my attention and, looking out, I
was surprised to see the Crown Prince alighting from a yellow car about
which stood a formal military escort. General Wood stepped forward
quickly to receive His Imperial Highness, who was clad in aviator
costume.
“Our fourth passenger!” whispered Edison.
“You don’t mean that the Crown Prince is going with us?”
The inventor nodded.
I learned afterwards that only at the eleventh hour did the imperial
prisoner decide to accept General Wood’s invitation to join this
memorable expedition.
“I have come, General,” said the Prince, saluting gravely, “because I
feel that my presence here with you may enable me to serve my country.”
“I am convinced Your Imperial Highness has decided wisely,” answered the
commander-in-chief, returning the salute.
An hour later, at the head of one of the aerial squadrons that stretched
behind us in a great V, we were flying over snow-covered fields at eighty
miles an hour, headed for the Atlantic and the German fleet. Our
seaplanes, the most powerful yet built of the Curtiss-Wright 1922 model,
carried eight men, including three that I have not mentioned, a wireless
operator, an assistant pilot and a general utility man who also served as
cook. Two cabins offered surprisingly comfortable accommodations,
considering the limited space, and we ate our first meal with keen
relish.
“We have provisions for how many days?” asked the Crown Prince.
“For six days,” said General Wood.
“But, surely not oil for six days!”
“We have oil for only forty-eight hours of continuous flying, but Your
Imperial Highness must understand that our seaplanes float perfectly on
the ocean, so we can wait for the German fleet as long as is necessary
and then rise again.”
The Prince frowned at this and twisted his sandy moustache into sharper
upright points.
“When do you expect to sight the German fleet?”
“About noon the day after to-morrow. We shall go out to sea sometime in
the night and most of to-morrow we will spend in ocean manoeuvres. Your
Imperial Highness will be interested.”
In spite of roaring propellers and my cramped bunk I slept excellently
that night and did not waken until a sudden stopping of the two engines
and a new motion of the seaplane brought me to consciousness. The day was
breaking over a waste of white-capped ocean and we learned that Commodore
Tower, who was in command of our main air squadron, fearing a storm, had
ordered manoeuvres to begin at once so as to anticipate the gale. We were
planing down in great circles, preparing to rest on the water, and, as I
looked to right and left, I saw the sea strangely covered with the great
winged creatures of our fleet, mottle-coloured, that rose and fell as the
green waves tossed them.
I should explain that these seaplanes were constructed like catamarans
with twin bodies, enabling them to ride on any sea, and between these
bodies the torpedoes were swung, one for each seaplane, with a simple
lowering and releasing device that could be made to function by the touch
of a lever. The torpedo could be fired from the seaplane either as it
rested on the water or as it skimmed over the water, say at a height of
ten feet, and the released projectile darted straight ahead in the line
of the seaplane’s flight.
With great interest we watched the manoeuvres which consisted chiefly in
the practice of signals, in rising from the ocean and alighting again and
in flying in various formations.
“From how great a distance do you propose to fire your torpedoes?” the
Crown Prince asked Mr. Edison, speaking through a head-piece to overcome
the noise.
“We’ll run our seaplanes pretty close up,” answered the inventor, “so as
to take no chance of missing. I guess we’ll begin discharging torpedoes
at about 1,200 yards.”
“But your seaplanes will be shot to pieces by the fire of our
battleships.”
“Some will be, but not many. Our attack will be too swift and sudden.
It’s hard to hit an aeroplane going a mile in a minute and, before your
gunners can get the ranges, the thing will be over.”
“Besides,” put in General Wood, “every man in our fleet is an American
who has volunteered for duty involving extreme risk. Every man will give
his life gladly.”
About ten o’clock in the morning on February 3rd our front line flyers,
miles ahead of us, wirelessed back word that they had sighted the German
fleet, and, a few minutes later, we saw smoke columns rising on the far
eastern horizon. I shall never forget the air of quiet authority with
which General Wood addressed his prisoner at this critical moment.
“I must inform Your Imperial Highness that I have sent a wireless message
to the admiral of the German fleet informing him of your presence here as
a voluntary passenger. This seaplane is identified by its signal flags
and by the fact that it carries no torpedo. We shall do everything to
protect Your Imperial Highness from danger.”
“I thank you, sir,” the prince answered stiffly.
General Wood withdrew to his place in the observation chamber beside Mr.
Edison.
Swiftly we flew nearer to the enemy’s battleships, which were advancing
in two columns, led by two super-dreadnoughts, the _Kaiser Friedrich_ and
the _Moltke_, with the admiral’s flag at her forepeak and flanked by
lines of destroyers that belched black smoke from their squat funnels.
With our binoculars we saw that there was much confusion on the German
decks as they hastily cleared for action. Our attack had evidently taken
them completely by surprise and they had no flyers ready to dispute our
mastery of the air.
Presently General Wood re-entered the cabin.
“I have a wireless from Commodore Tower saying that everything is ready.
Before it is too late I appeal to Your Imperial Highness to prevent the
destruction of these splendid ships and a horrible loss of life. Will
Your Highness say the word?”
“No!” answered the Crown Prince harshly.
General Wood turned to the cabin window and nodded to the assistant
pilot, who dropped overboard a signal smoke ball that left behind, as it
fell, a greenish spiral trail. Straightway, the Commodore’s seaplane, a
mile distant, broke out a line of flags whereupon six flyers from six
different points leaped ahead like sky hounds on the scent, shooting
forward and downward towards their mighty prey. The remainder of the sky
fleet circled away at safe distances of three, four or five miles,
waiting the result of this first blow, confident that the _Moltke_ was
doomed.
Doomed she was. In vain the great battleship turned her guns, big and
little, against these snarling, swooping creatures of the air that came
at her like darting vultures all at once from many sides, but swerved at
the twelve hundred yard line and took her broadside on with their
torpedoes, fired them and were gone.
Six white paths streaked the ocean beneath us marking the course of six
torpedoes and three of them found their target. Three of them missed, but
that was because the gunners were excited. There is no more excuse for a
torpedo missing a dreadnought at a thousand yards than there is for a
pistol missing a barn door at twenty feet!
The _Moltke_ began to sink almost immediately. Through our glasses we
watched her putting off life boats and we saw that scarcely half of them
had been launched when she lurched violently to starboard and went down
by the head. Her boats, led by one flying the admiral’s flag, made for
the sister dreadnought, but had not covered a hundred yards when
Commodore Tower signalled again and six other seaplanes darted into
action and, by the same swift manosuvres, sank the _Kaiser Friedrich_.
In this action we lost two seaplanes.
Now General Wood, white-faced, re-entered the cabin.
“Has Your Imperial Highness anything to say?” asked the American
commander.
Silent and rigid sat the heir to the German throne, his hands clenched,
his nostrils dilating, his lips hard shut.
“If not,” continued General Wood, “I shall, with great regret, signal
Commodore Tower to sink that transport, which means, I fear, the loss of
many thousands of German lives.” He pointed to an immense dark grey
vessel of about the tonnage of the _Vaterland_.
The Crown Prince neither answered nor stirred and again the American
Commander nodded to the assistant pilot. Once more the smoke ball fell,
the signal of attack was given and a third group of seaplanes sped
forward on their deadly mission. The men aboard this enormous transport
equalled in numbers the entire male population of fighting age in a city
like New Haven and of these not twenty were saved. And we lost two more
seaplanes.
We had now used eighteen of our hundred available torpedoes and had sunk
three ships of the enemy.
At this moment the sun’s glory burst through a rift in the dull sky,
whereupon our fleet, welcoming the omen, threw forth the stars and
stripes from every flyer and sailed nearer the stricken fleet hungry for
further victories. I counted twenty transports and half a dozen
battleships. Proudly we circled over them, knowing that our power of
destruction meant safety and honour for America.
In the observation chamber General Wood watched, frowning while the
wireless crackled out another message from Commodore Tower. Where should
we strike next?
In the cabin sat the Crown Prince, his face like marble and the anguish
of death in his heart.
Suddenly, a little thing happened that turned Frederick William towards a
decision which practically ended the war. The little thing was a burst of
music from the _Koenig Albert_, steaming at the head of the nearer
battleship column two miles distant. On she came, shouldering great waves
from her bows while hundreds of blue-jackets lined her rails as if to
salute or defy the tragic fate hanging over them.
As General Wood appeared once more before his tortured prisoner, there
floated over the sea the strains of “Die Wacht Am Rhein,” whereupon up on
his feet came the Crown Prince and, head bared, stood listening to this
great hymn of the Fatherland, while tears streamed down his face.
“I yield,” he said in broken tones. “I cannot stand out any longer. I
will do as you wish, sir.”
“My terms are unconditional surrender,” said the American commander, “to
be followed by a truce for peace negotiations. Does Your Imperial
Highness agree to unconditional surrender?”
“Those are harsh terms. In our talk at Chicago Your Excellency only asked
that I prevent this expedition from sailing. I am ready to order the
expedition back to Germany.”
General Wood shook his head.
“Conditions are different now. Your Imperial Highness refused my Chicago
suggestion and chose the issue of battle which has turned in our favour.
To the victors belong the spoils. These battleships are our prizes of
war. These German soldiers in the troopships are our prisoners.”
“Impossible!” protested the Prince. “Do you think five hundred men in
aeroplanes can make prisoners of a hundred and fifty thousand in
battleships?”
“I do, sir,” declared General Wood with grim finality. “There’s a
perfectly safe prison--down below.” He glanced into the green abyss above
which we were soaring. “I must ask Your Imperial Highness to decide
quickly. The Commodore is waiting.”
Every schoolboy knows what happened then, how the Prince, in this crisis,
turned from grief to defiance, how he dared General Wood to do his worst,
how the American commander sank the _Koenig Albert_ and two more
transports in the next half hour with a loss of five seaplanes, and how,
finally, Frederick William, seeing that the entire German expedition
would be annihilated, surrendered absolutely and ran up the stars and
stripes above German dreadnoughts, transports and destroyers. For the
first time in history an insignificant air force had conquered a great
fleet. The Widding-Edison invention had made good.
* * * * *
I need not dwell upon details of the German-American Peace Conference
which occupied the month of February, 1922. These are matters of familiar
record. The country went from one surprise to another as Germany yielded
point after point of her original demands. Under no circumstances would
she withdraw her armies from the soil of America unless she received a
huge indemnity, but at the end of a week she agreed to withdraw without
any indemnity. Firmly she insisted that the United States must abrogate
the Monroe Doctrine, but she presently waived this demand and agreed that
the Monroe Doctrine might stand. Above all she stood out for the
neutralisation of the Panama Canal. Here she would not yield, but at the
close of the conference she did yield and on February 22nd, 1922, Germany
signed the treaty of Pittsburg which gave her only one advantage, namely,
the repossession of her captured fleet.
It was not until a fortnight later, after the invading transports had
sailed for home and the last German soldier had left America, that we
understood why the enemy had dealt with us so graciously. On March 4th,
1922, the news burst upon the world that France and Russia, smarting
under the inconclusive results of the Great War, had struck again at the
Central Empires, and we saw that Germany had abandoned her invasion of
America not because of our air victory, but because she found herself
involved in another European war. She was glad to leave the United States
on any terms.
A few weeks later in Washington (now happily restored as the national
capital) I was privileged to hear General Wood’s great speech before a
joint committee of the Senate and the House of Representatives. The
discussion was on national preparedness and I thrilled as the general
rose to answer various Western statesmen who opposed a defence plan
calling for large appropriations on the ground that, in the present war
with Germany and in her previous wars, America had always managed to get
through creditably without a great military establishment and always
would.
“Gentlemen,” replied General Wood, “let us be honest with ourselves in
regard to these American wars that we speak of so complacently, these
wars that are presented in our school books as great and glorious. How
great were they? How glorious were they? Let us have the truth.
“Take our War of the Revolution. Does any one seriously maintain that
this was a great war? It was not a war at all. It was a series of
skirmishes. It was the blunder of a stupid English king, who never had
the support of the English people. Our revolutionary armies decreased
each year and, but for the interposition of the French, our cause, in all
probability, would have been lost.
“And the war of 1812? Was that great and glorious? Why did we win?
Because we were isolated by the Atlantic Ocean (which in these days of
steam no longer isolates us) and because England was occupied in a death
struggle with Napoleon.
“In our Civil War both North and South were totally unprepared. If either
side at the start had had an efficient army of 100,000 men that side
would have won overwhelmingly in the first six months.
“Our war with Spain in 1898 was a joke, a pitiful exhibition of
incompetency and unreadiness in every department. We only won because
Spain was more unprepared than we were. And as to our great naval
victory, the truth is that the Spanish fleet destroyed itself.
“Gentlemen, we have never had a real war in America. This invasion by
Germany was the beginning of a real war, but that has now been
marvellously averted. Through extraordinary good fortune we have been
delivered from this peril, just as, by extraordinary good fortune, we
gained some successes over the Germans, like the battle of the
Susquehanna and our recent seaplane victory, successes that were largely
accidental and could never be repeated.
“I assure you, gentlemen, it is madness for us to count upon continued
deliverance from the war peril because in the past we have been lucky,
because in the past wide seas have guarded us, because in the past our
enemies have quarrelled among themselves, or because American
resourcefulness and ingenuity have been equal to sudden emergencies. To
permanently base our hopes of national safety and integrity upon such
grounds is to choose the course adopted by China and to invite for our
descendants the humiliating fate that finally overwhelmed China, which
nation has now had a practical suzerainty forced upon her by a much
smaller power.
“There is only one way for America to be safe from invasion and that is
for America to be ready for it. We are not ready today, we never have
been ready, yet war may smite us at any time with all its hideous
slaughter and devastation. Our vast possessions constitute the richest,
the most tempting prize on earth, and no words can measure the envy and
hatred that less rich and less favoured nations feel against us.”
“Gentlemen, our duty is plain and urgent. We must be prepared against
aggression. We must save from danger this land that we love, this great
nation built by our fathers. We must have, what we now notoriously lack,
a sufficient army, a satisfactory system of military training,
battleships, aeroplanes, submarines, munition plants, all that is
necessary to uphold the national honour so that when an unscrupulous
enemy strikes at us and our children he will find us ready. If we are
strong we shall, in all probability, avoid war, since the choice between
war and arbitration will then be ours.”
Scenes of wild enthusiasm followed this appeal of the veteran commander,
not only at the Capitol, but all over the land when his words were made
public. At last America had learned her bitter lesson touching the folly
of unpreparedness, the iron had entered her soul and now, in 1922, the
people’s representatives were quick to perform a sacred duty that had
been vainly urged upon them in 1916. Almost unanimously (even Senators
William Jennings Bryan and Henry Ford refused to vote against
preparedness) both houses of Congress declared for the fullest measure of
national defence. It was voted that we have a strong and fully manned
navy with 48 dreadnoughts and battle cruisers in proportion. It was voted
that we have scout destroyers and sea-going submarines in numbers
sufficient to balance the capital fleet. It was voted that we have an
aerial fleet second to none in the world. It was voted that we have a
standing army of 200,000 men with 45,000 officers, backed by a national
force of citizens trained in arms under a universal and obligatory
one-year military system. It was voted, finally, that we have adequate
munition plants in various parts of the country, all under government
control and partly subsidised under conditions assuring ample munitions
at any time, but absolutely preventing private monopolies or excessive
profits in the munition manufacturing business.
This was declared to be--and God grant it prove to be--America’s
insurance against future wars of invasion, against alien arrogance and
injustice, against a foreign flag over this land.
FINIS
End of Project Gutenberg’s The Conquest of America, by Cleveland Moffett