MANŒUVRES
THIS summer term of 1914, destined surely to be the most momentous
in the whole history of the College, nevertheless pursued its normal
course until July 18, on which date began the great test mobilisation
of the “Fleet in being,” to which we had all been eagerly looking
forward for some weeks.
It is, perhaps, too soon to speculate on the influence which this most
opportune concentration of sea power brought to bear on the course
of the War. Was it due to foresight? Was it a deliberate warning to
trespassers not to tread on Great Britain’s toes? Or was it just a
gorgeous piece of luck? Who shall say? Certainly not a mere “snottie”!
Anyway, it is a matter of history that after manœuvres the Fleet was
not demobilised, with the result that the swift, murderous assault on
our open sea-coast towns which, judging by the light of subsequent
events, was even then in preparation, was happily averted.
The cadets were all sent to Portsmouth, from where they embarked on
the various ships to which they had been respectively appointed. As a
description of my personal experiences I think I will insert here the
copy of a letter I wrote to my mother on my return to the College,
omitting only some personal details of no interest to the public.
“Dartmouth College, Devon: _July 25, 1914_.
“DARLING MOTHER—
“Thanks so much for your letter and enclosures.... Now to describe the
mobilisation. It was the finest thing I’ve ever seen! I _did_ enjoy
myself. When we were just coming into Gosport in the train, we saw an
airship and two aeroplanes above us. We went on board the tank-ship
_Provider_, which took us to our respective ships. While we were
waiting to start we saw flights of aeroplanes like birds chasing each
other through the air, and a big airship was slowly hovering about
low down on the horizon. The harbour was teeming with dashing little
launches rushing about commanded by ‘snotties’! Outside the sight
was wonderful. Simply _miles_ of stately battle-ships, and swarms of
little torpedo craft. As we steamed out the _Astra Torres_, a huge
airship, hovered over us. Just as we got abreast the line they fired
a salute of 12-pounders to the King. It was lovely seeing the little
white spurts of smoke from the sides of the huge ships. We went
alongside the _Irresistible_, and soon afterwards saw the _Formidable_
signalling to us a message from my ship—the _Lord Nelson_.
“Almost directly afterwards her launch steamed alongside towing a
boat for our luggage. There were no ‘snotties’ on board my ship and
we had to take their duty, and were treated just like midshipmen. It
was absolutely ripping! When we got on board we went down to the
gun-room flat and deposited our bags and ‘macks.’ Then we went up on
deck and a Petty Officer showed us the 9·2 and 12 inch turrets, and
how they worked. Then we set to and started to explore the ship. Then
came supper of sardines and bread-and-butter and ginger-beer in the
gun-room.
“Then we went on deck and looked at everything and climbed up to the
searchlight platforms till the searchlight display began. That was
splendid. The beams seemed to pierce everywhere. They described arcs
and circles in the sky and swept up and down, and round and round, and
from right forward to right aft. This went on for about an hour, and
then we turned into our hammocks. At first I couldn’t get into mine,
but when I had succeeded, and as soon as I had kicked the foot out as
the hammock was too short for me, I found that it was more comfortable
than a bed. The only thing that kept me awake was the ship’s company
‘sing-song,’ but I did not mind as it was all very lovely and novel,
and they sang such topping sea-songs.
“We turned out in the morning and had a bath and dressed, and had a
topping breakfast, and then went on deck. We had to officer parties of
seamen at ‘divisions.’ I was in charge of the ship’s boys. After that
we had church, which was on the men’s mess-deck. I sat just opposite
the galley whence emerged an odour of varied foods cooking, and I was
so far away from the Padre that I never heard a word and nearly went
to sleep. After church we shifted from our best clothes and started
exploring again. We looked in the engine-room and went up a mast,
etc. Then we had lunch. After lunch we went all round the Fleet in a
little steam launch, and as the _Lord Nelson_ was flagship of the 2nd
Fleet we conveyed instructions to a lot of ships. When we came back we
had tea, and then went on deck and ragged about for some time. Having
had supper we went on deck and got into conversation with a sporting
Lieutenant, who told us all sorts of things about the Navy. While
he was talking to us the ‘liberty’ men came off from the shore, and
one bandsman was so drunk he fell in the sea trying to get out of the
boat. Then we turned in and I fell asleep almost at once. Next morning
we got up early and watched them weighing anchor. Then we saw the 1st
Fleet slowly get under way. When they had all passed we got under way
and steamed down Spithead at the head of our line. When we got near
the royal yacht, ship was lined and we fell in on the after turret to
cheer the King. That was grand! To see the stately ships steam by and
hear their ship’s companies cheering for their King!
“Then we went below and shifted into flannels and put on our overalls
and had to get down into the engine-room and boiler-room to be shown
round. In the upper part of the boiler-room the temperature was about
110° Fahrenheit, I should think! The rails of the steps were so hot
that they blistered my hands. Then the 1st Fleet fought us in a sham
fight out in mid-channel, and there was a beastly row when each ship
started firing her 12-pounders.
“In the middle of it the 1st Fleet Destroyer flotilla dashed up
to within 400 yards, intending to torpedo us, and we fired our
12-pounders as fast as we could load them. The flotilla then turned
round and steamed away as fast as they could. I think we were supposed
to have beaten them off. At 4 o’clock the battle ended and our Fleet
remained at sea all that night. We arrived at Portland at 8 in the
morning, and after breakfast we disembarked and returned to the
College by train. I must stop now as it is time for prayers. Fuller
details in the leave. Best love from
——
“P.S. My shirts haven’t come yet, I’ve just looked.”
* * * * *
That “leave” never came. How little we dreamed at the time of the
mobilisation that we were so near to the “real thing”! But I must not
anticipate.
* * * * *
On the 25th July, three days after the events just recorded, the
examinations began.
The diplomatic struggle in Europe resulting from Austria’s note to
Serbia formed the chief topic of discussion in the College, but no
particular excitement prevailed until Tuesday the 28th of July, when we
learned that Austria had declared war on Serbia, and Russia had ordered
a partial mobilisation of her army.
That afternoon when we were all fallen in at “quarters,” and after
the terms had been reported by their officers to the Commander, and
were awaiting the customary dismissal, the Captain came on to the
quarter-deck, and, going up to the Commander, said a few words to him
in an undertone. The Commander saluted, and, turning to the ranks, gave
the order, “Cadets, ’shun!”
Every one sprang to “attention,” all eyes fixed upon the Captain. He
said: “I have just received this telegram from the Admiralty.” Then in
a clear, ringing voice he read the dispatch, which, to the best of my
recollection, ran as follows—
“In the event of war, prepare to mobilise at a moment’s notice.”
After a short pause during which a universal murmur of excitement
rippled through the ranks, he continued:
“If I receive the order to mobilise the College, all cadets will be
recalled immediately whatever they may be doing. You will proceed at
once to your dormitories, where you will pack your chests, and move
them out of the dormitories to the nearest pathway, and stand by to
load them on the carts and wagons which will convey them down to the
pier. You will then fall in in terms on the quarter-deck to draw your
pay. I will have lists of the ships to which cadets are appointed
posted up in the gun-rooms as soon as they are made out. The Hawke
and Drake terms will go to Portsmouth; the Grenville and Blakes to
Chatham, and the Exmouth and St. Vincents with the ships’ company to
Devonport. The Chatham batch will leave the College first, followed by
the Portsmouth batch. Those going to Devonport will leave last. A year
ago I promised the Admiralty to clear the College of all cadets and
active service ratings in eight hours. I trust to _you_ to make this
promise good.”
Then with a word to the Commander he left the quarter-deck.
The Commander turned to the ranks and gave the order “Stand at ease,”
and then to the officer of the sixth term he said: “Carry on, please.”
On the way to the dormitories and while shifting wild speculation was
rife. Very little cricket was played that afternoon. Groups of excited
cadets collected about the playgrounds and discussed in all their
bearings the two absorbing questions—“_Would_ England declare war?
SHOULD we be mobilised?”
Luckily for our education only two more exams remained to be done,
since we were far too excited to give them much attention. What after
all were examinations compared with the possibility of such tremendous
adventures as had suddenly loomed up on our horizon!
At this time, as the reader will no doubt remember, portentous events
followed each other in such quick succession that more excitement was
crammed into a single day than into any ordinary week or even month.
On the Wednesday morning when we assembled in the gun-room a rush was
made for the notice board, on which had been posted the list of ships
to which in the event of war we had been appointed. These were eagerly
scanned, and excitement rose to fever pitch. To see one’s name in print
as appointed to a real definite ship seemed to bring it all so much
nearer: to materialise what up till then had seemed more like some wild
and exciting dream of adventure than a sober fact.
However, by Thursday morning no order to mobilise had been received and
hope died down again, and by Friday, after the manner of the fox in
the fable, we were all consoling one another for the unattainable by
such remarks as: “After all, it will be much better fun to go on leave
next Tuesday than to fight any beastly Germans.”