COMRADES OF THE MIST
U. S. BATTLESHIPS WITH BRITISH GRAND FLEET--DREADNAUGHTS
UNDER RODMAN FORMED SIXTH BATTLE SQUADRON--ASSIGNED POST OF
HONOR--ATTACKED SIX TIMES BY SUBMARINES--U-BOAT RAMMED THE "NEW
YORK," CAUGHT IN ITS PROPELLER-- THREE BATTLESHIPS, UNDER RODGERS,
AT BANTRY BAY--SURRENDER OF GERMAN FLEET.
There was a thrill through all the Grand Fleet, a storm of cheers
sweeping from Admiral Beatty's flagship down to the last destroyer that
December morning when the United States dreadnaughts, under Admiral
Hugh Rodman, steamed around the headlands, up the curved channel, and
down the long line of British battleships, dropping anchor among them.
Twelve days at sea, weathering a gale that raged for three days, they
had had a hard voyage. Nearing the coast in the pitch-black darkness of
a starless night, they had, a few hours before, been met by a division
of destroyers which escorted them to port. The sun, which rises late
in that northern clime, broke through the mist as they reached the
entrance to the harbor. Seaplanes circled the vessels, and a kite
balloon's heliograph flashed its welcome.
The _New York_ led the way, Admiral Rodman and his staff on the bridge,
while Admiral Beatty, commander-in-chief, surrounded by his crew, stood
on the deck of the _Queen Elizabeth_. On all the ships the officers and
crews, manning the rails, stood at attention.
The "Star Spangled Banner" came rolling from the British bands, and
the American bands played "God Save the King." This was according to
custom, but it was a real surprise to our sailors when there came from
the British vessels an outburst of cheers that ran clear down the
line. That seemed like home to our boys, and they replied with Yankee
yells until Scapa resounded with such a roar of sound as it never heard
before.
"This is the most enthusiastic welcome an American squadron ever
received anywhere," Admiral Rodman remarked. As soon as the ships
anchored, Admiral Rodman made his official call on Admiral Beatty, on
the _Queen Elizabeth_. As they exchanged greetings, Admiral Rodman said:
"We are here, and we put ourselves entirely at your command. We ask
no favors or privileges. We only want to be one of you. In a sense we
feel that we are no longer merely the American Navy. We are now rather
an integral part of your fleet for the purpose of unified prosecution
of our great common aim. We have not come merely to take part in
the spectacular side of your work. We want to do our fair share of
everything, duties pleasant and unpleasant alike. We do not come to be
your guests but to be co-workers. We do not want to be entertained; we
want to work." That was characteristic of Rodman, who was selected to
command our greatest ships overseas because of his outstanding ability
as a great officer.
"Today marks an epoch in the history of England and America," said
Admiral Beatty, expressing the pleasure with which he had looked
forward to the coming.
There was sealed the firm friendship of those "Comrades of the Mist,"
the British and American dreadnaughts in that Grand Fleet, which formed
the greatest aggregation of naval power the world ever saw, and whose
very existence kept the German High Seas Fleet contained in its home
ports, never again to venture out until it slunk to Scapa Flow in
surrender.
The American dreadnaughts which served with the Grand Fleet were the
_New York_ (flagship), Captain C. F. Hughes, afterwards commanded by
Captain E. L. Beach; the _Texas_, Captain Victor Blue; the _Wyoming_,
Captain H. A. Wiley, afterward Captain H. H. Christy; the _Arkansas_,
Captain W. H. G. Bullard, afterward Captain L. R. de Steiguer; the
_Florida_, Captain Thomas Washington, afterward Captain M. M. Taylor;
and the _Delaware_, Captain A. H. Scales.
"It is a matter of pride," said Admiral Rodman, "that we were at once
able to coördinate and coöperate with the British intelligently,
without the slightest hesitancy, friction or misunderstanding. We
adopted and could use their signals, radio, secret codes and other
communication--and that is one of the hardest problems we have in the
Navy--and could efficiently execute their tactics and maneuvers and
conform to their war plans. This was put to the test when within three
days after our arrival a signal was made for all ships to be ready to
proceed to sea for active service and we reported ready when the time
came.
"From that day to the end of the war we took part in every major
operation in the North Sea, and some independent smaller ones. There
was never a time but that we were ready when called upon. We could
always steam full speed, maintain our position, and we received nothing
but the highest praise not only from the British admirals, officers and
men, but from those of our own navy who visited us.
"Let me truthfully add, without taking the slightest credit to myself
as the commanding officer, but giving it to the officers and men, where
it belongs, and to the years of preparedness in the American Navy,
that, put it as modestly as I can, the American Squadron was fully
equal to any of the Grand Fleet."
Our ships were, in fact, in such a high state of efficiency that the
British Admiralty made specific inquiries as to our methods with a view
to adopting them for their own ships.
Soon after joining the Grand Fleet, the American dreadnaughts were
designated as the Sixth Battle Squadron, and assigned to one of the two
places of honor and importance in the battle line--one of the two "fast
wings" which would take station at the head or rear of the battleship
force when going into action. On one occasion, when the Grand Fleet
came within a few miles of the German fleet, the American division was
in the van, and would have led the action, but the Germans, as usual,
took refuge behind their defenses before the British and Americans
could run them down and force an engagement.
Describing the activities of the Grand Fleet and of our battleships,
Admiral Rodman said:
It was our policy to go after the enemy every time he showed his
nose outside of his ports; no matter when or where, whether in
single ships, by divisions, or his whole fleet, out we went, day
or night, rain or shine (and there was mighty little daylight and
much less shine in the winter months), blow high, or blow low, and
chase him back in his hole. So persistent was this performance
on our part, so sure were we to get after him, that, toward the
end he rarely ventured more than a few miles from his base; and
immediately we would start after him, back he would go in his hole,
and haul his hole in after him.
Every inducement was offered him to come out. Inferior forces
were sent down into the Heligoland Bight to induce him to attack;
valuable convoys were dispatched, apparently without protection,
and other devices to tempt him out; but he would not come. It is
needless to add that such expeditions, on every occasion, were well
guarded, and we were ready to pounce on him with unseen forces
had he attempted to take advantage of the seeming small force or
unprotected vessels.
In our operations in the North Sea we were frequently attacked
by submarines, and our battleships had numerous narrow escapes,
often only by prompt and skilful handling. On one occasion a
submarine rammed the flagship _New York_, dented the bottom, and
demolished the starboard propeller. But there is every reason to
believe that the blows from the propeller sank the submarine. En
route to drydock to make repairs and install a new propeller,
three torpedoes in rapid succession were fired at her by hostile
submarines. But again she avoided them by clever maneuvering and
escaped. Once when guarding or supporting a convoy of thirty or
forty vessels, on the coast of Norway, in mid-winter, a bunch
of hostile "subs" fired six torpedoes at us. Again only our
vigilance and instantaneous maneuvering saved us, but by a very
narrow margin. There were still other attacks by submarines which
necessitated quick action to avoid them.
Our dreadnaughts were attacked six times by submarines. On February
8, 1918, the _Florida_ and _Delaware_ were off the Norwegian coast,
waiting for a return convoy, when a submarine was sighted. The U-boat
promptly attacked, firing a salvo of torpedoes. Four were aimed at
the _Florida_, two at the _Delaware_. Quick action was required to
avoid the deadly cylinders. Both vessels turned instantly, swerving so
rapidly that the torpedoes swept harmlessly past, neither vessel being
hit. Destroyers dashed at the enemy, dropping numerous depth-bombs, but
the U-boat, which had submerged instantly, apparently left the scene
undamaged.
The _Texas_ had an encounter with a submarine on April 27th. At 12:47
p. m. in latitude 56°-56´ north, longitude 0°-40´ west, a periscope
was sighted. The _Texas_ at once brought her guns to bear, firing at
the moving feather. The "sub" submerged, leaving only its tell-tale
wake. Two destroyers which were nearby went to the scene and dropped
depth-bombs in the vicinity where the U-boat went down, but it had
disappeared.
The _New York_, _Texas_, _Delaware_, _Florida_ and _Wyoming_ were twice
attacked on June 30th. The division was steaming in line abreast, in
open order, when a periscope was reported by the _Wyoming_, and was
also seen by the destroyer _Parker_. The _Delaware_, _Florida_ and
_Wyoming_ opened fire, their shells falling around the spot where the
"scope" was sighted. The "sub" had immediately submerged, and the
destroyers _Salmon_, _Parker_, and _Radstock_ dashed down the wake,
dropping depth-bombs. The battleships moving on, leaving the _Radstock_
to search the vicinity. An hour later, in latitude 58°-44´ north,
longitude 2°-34´ east, the second attack occurred, the _Delaware_
opening fire on a submarine reported astern. The escorting destroyers
did not see the periscope, but three of them scouted down the lines and
dropped ten depth-bombs.
At 9 p. m., on July 28th, while cruising in latitude 57°-55´ north,
longitude 0°-05´ east, the _Arkansas_ sighted a periscope. Opening
fire with her port sky gun, she went to emergency full speed using her
rudder to bring the object fired at ahead. At this moment the wake of a
torpedo running toward the ship was sighted. Swinging to the left, the
torpedo was avoided, and the battleship escaped unscathed.
The occasion to which Admiral Rodman referred, when his flagship was
rammed by a submarine, occurred when the _New York_ was leading the
division into Pentland Firth. While turning with right rudder, her
stern swinging to port, a heavy under-water blow was felt on her
starboard quarter, followed immediately by another, which damaged
the ship's starboard propeller, breaking off two of its blades. The
water was deep, the channel clear of obstructions. No ordinary force
could have delivered a blow powerful enough to smash propeller blades
and dent the big ship's bottom. After weighing all the evidence, and
examining the vessel's hull when she was docked, the court of inquiry
verified the conclusion of Admiral Rodman, that the _New York_ had
struck a submarine. While there were various theories, the one which
seemed most tenable was that, in attempting to dive under the vessel,
to get in position to attack, the U-boat had struck the _New York's_
propellers and been smashed as the battleship turned.
The _New York_ was attacked again on October 16th, at Rosyth, while
en route from a northern base. At one o'clock in the morning, three
torpedoes were fired, all passing ahead of her. Owing to a damaged
propeller, the ship was making only twelve knots. Ordinarily, she would
have been going at the rate of sixteen knots or more. The submarine
apparently misjudged her speed, aiming its torpedoes too far ahead. A
submarine was sighted and reported by a patrol in the vicinity, and it
is believed this was the same one which attacked the _New York_.
There was joy among the Americans on April 24, 1918, when they sailed
with the Grand Fleet "for active service against the enemy." A large
German force was reported operating in the North Sea, probably planning
to attack the Norwegian convoys. Hoping for action, the British and
American vessels found the Germans had turned back to their home bases.
They had missed the enemy by only four hours. A British flagship
had been attacked by a submarine, two torpedoes being fired at her.
Destroyers had dropped quantities of depth-charges. Some floating mines
had been destroyed by gunfire. But they had missed the big game they
were seeking.
It was not until the evening of October 12th that any considerable
German force was reported. Three large enemy men-of-war were said to
have been sighted, steering northwest in the direction of a convoy
off the Scotch coast. The American dreadnaughts, a battle-cruiser
squadron and light cruisers, screened by destroyers, sailed soon after
midnight. They were directed to take position to the north and west of
the Orkneys, and to patrol the passage between the Orkney and Shetland
islands, in the hope of intercepting the Germans. But the German ships
must have again turned back, for, though that whole region was scouted,
there was no sign of an enemy vessel. This was only another of the many
disappointments in the constant effort to engage the German capital
ships.
In that rigorous climate, a latitude as far north as Alaska or
Petrograd, snow and ice are continuous through most of the year. Cold
and sleet and heavy seas made navigation arduous and dangerous.
There was continuous cruising in close formation, without lights, at
high speeds, on winter nights when the darkness lasted for eighteen
hours. The mine-fields, our own as well as those of the enemy, were an
ever-present danger, and battleships had to be always on the alert to
repel attacks by submarines.
The whole fleet had to be ready to put to sea on almost instant
notice. Officers and men had hardly any liberty or leave. No one was
allowed away from the ships after dark, nor for a period longer than
four hours, and then only in the immediate vicinity of the ship, in
signal or telephone communication, subject to recall. All ships were
completely closed and darkened from sunset to sunrise, as a precaution
against air and other attacks. In winter this meant from fifteen to
eighteen hours per day.
Some idea of the immense size of the Grand Fleet may be gained from
the statement that, entering or leaving port, the column of ships,
excluding destroyers, averaged 65 miles long. On one occasion, it was
76 miles.
Hard duty as it was for the officers in that wintry clime, it was even
harder for the enlisted men. Yet our boys bore it with the cheerfulness
that distinguishes the American sailor, who, when hardship comes,
"bears it with a grin,"--not only bears it, but laughs about it. For
a year, every officer and man in the Grand Fleet had been waiting and
hoping for a chance to get at the Germans. And, at last, when that
fleet surrendered without striking a blow, their disappointment was too
deep for words.
That scene has been graphically described, the feeling of officers and
men so well expressed by Admiral Rodman, that I give in his own words
his account of the German surrender:
After four years of war for the Grand Fleet, and after we have
been a part of it for the last year, there came the debacle, the
last scene of the great drama. Not as we had all expected, as the
successful termination of a great sea battle, but as an ignominious
surrender without firing a gun. Surely, no more complete victory
was ever won, nor a more disgraceful and humiliating end could have
come to a powerful and much vaunted fleet than that which came to
the German High Seas Fleet. Let me try to describe it.
The Commander-in-Chief of the Grand Fleet demanded and received
what actually amounted to an unconditional surrender of the whole
German Navy. Under his orders the enemy's ships were disarmed,
ammunition landed, torpedo warheads sent ashore, breech-blocks
and fire-control instruments removed, and every offensive utility
rendered innocuous. Then, with reduced crews, under the command
of a German admiral, in one lone column, the heavy battleships
leading, the Hun fleet sailed for a designated rendezvous, to
arrive at a specified time, just outside of the Firth of Forth in
Scotland, where the Grand Fleet lay at anchor.
Before daylight the Grand Fleet was under way and proceeded to sea,
heading east, in two long columns, six miles apart, our American
battleship force being in the middle of the northern line. A light
British cruiser was directed to meet the Germans, who were heading
west, and conduct them in between our two columns.
Let me diverge for a moment and recall to any one who has been in
China or the Philippines the viciousness of and antipathy which
the domesticated carabao has for a white man. How ready they are
to attack, while any native child can, with perfect safety and
impunity, go up to the most savage of them, take him by the nose,
and lead him where he pleases. I was reminded of this when a little
British cruiser rounded to ahead of the much-vaunted German High
Seas Fleet, and hoisted the signal, "Follow me," and led them down
between our columns, where our battle flags were mast-headed,
turrets trained toward the enemy, crews at battle stations, and all
in readiness for any act of treachery that might be attempted.
At a pre-arranged signal our forces swung symmetrically through 180
degrees, and, still paralleling the enveloped Germans, conducted
them into a designated anchorage in the entrance of the Firth
of Forth. Then came a signal from the Commander-in-Chief to the
surrendered fleet: "At sundown lower your colors and do not hoist
them again without permission." Surely no greater humiliation could
have befallen them after their frequent and taunting boasts and
threats.
There is little else to be told. After an inspection by British and
American officers to gain assurance that the ships were disarmed,
they were sent in groups, under guard, to Scapa Flow, in the
cold, dreary, bleak, God-forsaken harbor in the Orkneys where the
Grand Fleet had spent many a dreary month and year, waiting like
ferocious dogs in leash, watching and waiting, to pounce on the
German Fleet, should the opportunity ever occur. Here the Germans
lay at anchor in long, symmetrical lines, helpless, innocuous,
harmless; their sting and bite removed, their national colors
lowered for good and all as a token of submission to the masters.
They were corralled like wild and cruel beasts that had been
hobbled, guarded by a single division of battleships.
Our mission had been successfully accomplished; the German fleet
is a thing of the past; the seas are safe and free to our own and
our Allies' ships. The value of sea power could have no better
demonstration.
The British and Americans who served together at Scapa Flow and in the
North Sea were bound together by the strongest ties. Admiral Rodman and
all our officers and men felt they were serving with brothers, and our
British allies felt the same way toward our own forces.
On their departure, Admiral Sir David Beatty, the British
commander-in-chief, in an address on board the flagship _New York_,
paid this high tribute to the officers and men of the American
battleships which served with the Grand Fleet:
There is not much that I have to say, but what I do say I hope you
will understand comes from the heart, not only my heart, but the
hearts of your comrades of the Grand Fleet.
I want, first of all, to thank you, Admiral Rodman, the captains,
officers, and the ships' companies of the magnificent squadron, for
the wonderful coöperation and the loyalty you have given to me and
to my admirals; and the assistance that you have given us in every
duty you had to undertake. The support which you have shown is that
of true comradeship; and in time of stress, that is worth a very
great deal. As somebody said the other day, "The fighting is now
over, the talking is now going to begin;" therefore, I do not want
to keep you here any longer, but I want to congratulate you for
having been present upon a day which is unsurpassed in the naval
annals of the world.
I know quite well that you, as well as all of your British
comrades, were bitterly disappointed at not being able to give
effect to that efficiency that you have so well maintained. It
was a most disappointing day. It was a pitiful day to see those
great ships coming in like sheep being herded by dogs to their
fold, without an effort on anybody's part; but it was a day that
everybody could be proud of. I have received messages from several
people, offering sympathy to the Grand Fleet, and my answer was
that we do not want sympathy; we want recognition of the fact that
the prestige of the Grand Fleet stood so high it was sufficient to
cause the enemy to surrender without striking a blow.
I had always certain misgivings, and when the Sixth Battle Squadron
became a part of the Grand Fleet those misgivings were doubly
strengthened, and I knew then that they would throw up their hands.
Apparently the Sixth Battle Squadron was the straw that broke the
camel's back. However, the disappointment that the Grand Fleet
was not able to strike their blow for the freedom of the world is
counteracted by the fact that it was their prestige alone that
brought about this achievement.
I thank you again and again, for the great part the Sixth Battle
Squadron played in bringing about the greatest naval victory in
history. I hope you will give this message to your comrades: "Come
back soon. Good-bye and good luck!"
Suppose German battle-cruisers should evade the vigilance of Allied
capital ships and escape from the North Sea and suddenly attack troop
carrying transports! That suggestion phrased in some such terms was
the thought uppermost in the mind of every naval official when troops
began to go over in 1918 by the hundreds of thousands each month.
They recalled the damage inflicted by German raiders in the early
days of the war. To be ready for such daring incursion a division of
dreadnaughts was sent over, supplemented by submarines. They were kept
in readiness to put to sea, and also at times escorted convoys in the
Channel when submarines were reported in that vicinity. This division
was commanded by Admiral Thomas S. Rodgers, and was composed of the
_Utah_ (Captain F. B. Bassett); the _Nevada_ (Captain W. C. Cole); and
the _Oklahoma_ (Captain C. B. McVay). They had their base on Bantry
Bay, Ireland, ready to oppose any German cruisers which might threaten
shipping in the waters to the south of Ireland and England or on the
routes to the ports of Northern France.
Though the German press, sorely disappointed at the failure of U-boats
to sink transports, demanded that raiders dare every risk and sink
troop-ships, they never ventured away from the protection of home
ports. But the dreadnaughts of Admiral Rodgers kept eyes open and steam
up ready, if they should make the attempt. Like Rodman's squadron, they
did faithful work and deserve to share the commendation accorded to
American dreadnaughts engaged overseas.
Three-fourths of our first line dreadnaughts saw service in European
waters. All the rest, first and second line, would have been taken over
by Admiral Mayo if their presence had been required.
[Illustration: FIFTH BATTLE SQUADRON JOINING THE BRITISH GRAND FLEET
Led by Admiral Rodman's flagship, the U. S. S. New York, the American
ships steamed into Scapa Flow amid an outburst of cheers from their
British comrades. Inset: Admiral Hugh Rodman.]
[Illustration:
From the painting by Bernard F. Gribble
SURRENDER OF THE GERMAN HIGH SEAS FLEET
Admirals Rodman and Sims, on the deck of the New York, watching the
procession of German ships on their last voyage, to their anchorage in
the Firth of Forth. Then came the signal from the Commander-in-Chief:
"At sundown lower your colors and do not hoist them again without
permission."]