German Raids and their Signal Punishment
"I saw a mast abaft the light
In the tail of the offshore breeze,
A beacon flared on Dover Head,
A lean hull slipped the quays;
And out of the mist beyond the Fore,
Hell howled across the seas.
"Sudden and terrible, in one night,
A fleet had sprung to grips;
Nor' and nor'-east the signal sped
To the scattered scouts and the ships;
And racking the Channel fog the war
Roared in apocalypse."
LEWIS HASTINGS in the _Navy_.
EARLY in November, 1914, a German squadron of considerable force made
what the Germans proudly termed a "hussar stroke", a number of big ships
approaching the English coast, driving off the _Halcyon_, an antiquated
gunboat, and firing a few futile shots at long range at Yarmouth.
Suddenly they turned tail and made off. They strewed mines behind them,
one of which blew up the submarine D5; but the so-called raid was a case
of "much cry, little wool", and finally ended by the _Yorck_, a very big
cruiser, running into a German mine defending the entrance to the Jahde
and being blown up with great loss of life.
On the 23rd November a patrol vessel rammed the German submarine U 18
off the north coast of Scotland. She was badly damaged and shortly
afterwards foundered. Five days later the navy suffered a severe loss in
the blowing up of the pre-Dreadnought battleship _Bulwark_ as she lay
at her buoy off Sheerness. The cause of this catastrophe was, of course,
impossible to ascertain with any certainty, as the ship was sunk and
destroyed with almost every soul on board.
Encouraged by what they seem to have considered the success of their
vaunted "hussar stroke" at Yarmouth, the Germans thought they might as
well have another. This time their raid resulted in the deaths of a
large number of civilians, men, women, and children, at East and West
Hartlepool, Whitby, and Scarborough, upon which undefended places they
opened fire with their heavy artillery. Another "famous victory!" To
make it look more like an operation of war, and to excuse themselves to
neutrals, they tried to make out that these towns were fortified
positions. It is not very likely that anyone believed them, since these
places are well known to be nothing of the kind.
As a matter of fact, it was a carefully-planned affair. "Practically the
whole fast-cruiser force of the German Navy, including some great ships
vital to their fleet and utterly irreplaceable," wrote Mr. Winston
Churchill to the Mayor of Scarborough, "has been risked for the passing
pleasure of killing as many English people as possible, irrespective of
sex, age, or condition, in the limited time available to this military
and political folly. They were impelled by the violence of feelings
which could find no other vent."
There is little doubt that the First Lord's diagnosis of the cause of
the raid was absolutely correct, though it was perhaps more generally
considered that it had the ulterior motive of "frightening" the British
nation. So far from doing anything of the kind, it produced a perfect
rush to enlist. Men wanted to take a personal hand in the payment due
for such violence. The few British destroyers and patrolling vessels
that were encountered opened fire on the big German leviathans, but were
naturally in no position to put up anything of a fight against such
overwhelming odds. That the Germans were unable to sink them goes to
prove that they were in too great a hurry to fire carefully, as all they
wanted to do was to escape, for, to quote the official announcement, "on
being sighted by British vessels the Germans retired at full speed, and,
favoured by the mist, succeeded in making good their escape". What a
pity that mist intervened! But it merely postponed the evil day for the
raiders after all.
Our men-of-war about this time set to work to give the German positions
along the Belgian coast another shaking up, and the year finished by a
brilliantly executed naval air raid on Cuxhaven and the German war-ships
lying in the Elbe, in the process of which their escorting flotilla had
a somewhat unique scrap with German submarines and Zeppelins, an account
of which will be found in a later chapter.
The year 1915 opened badly for us with the loss of the _Formidable_--a
sister-ship to the _Bulwark_--which was torpedoed, it is supposed, by a
German submarine well down the Channel. At two o'clock in the morning
there was a heavy explosion, and the ship began to settle down to
starboard. There was no panic, the boats were got out, and some were
already in the water when there was a second explosion and a mass of
debris was shot into the air. The sea was rough, and the survivors, who
numbered less than a hundred, endured severe hardships. Some were
rescued by a Brixham trawler, and others managed to row ashore at Lyme
Regis. "The discipline was splendid," said a bluejacket survivor.[100]
"The last that I saw of Captain Loxley"--who was in command of the
ship--"was that he was on the bridge calmly smoking a cigarette.
Lieutenant Simmonds superintended the launching of the boats, and as he
got the last away I heard the Captain say: 'You have done well,
Simmonds'. The stokers must have done magnificently, as they drew all
the fires, and, steam being shut off, there was no boiler explosion when
the _Formidable_ sank.
"Captain Loxley was as cool as a cucumber. He gave his orders calmly and
coolly, just as though the ship was riding in harbour with anchors down.
I thought nothing was amiss. The last words I heard him say were:
'Steady, men, it's all right. No panic, keep cool; be British. There's
life in the old ship yet!' Captain Loxley's old terrier 'Bruce' was
standing on duty at his side on the fore-bridge at the last."
One of the few stokers who were saved said that they were expecting to
be relieved, and to have gone back to port, in about another hour. "An
officer passed down by us. He stopped and explained in a matter-of-fact
way that the ship had been struck, was sinking fast, and it was now a
question of saving as many lives as possible. He advised us to go on
deck and lay hold of anything we could." One of the finest examples of
self-sacrifice was given by Bugler S. C. Reed of the Royal Marines, a
mere boy, who, when advised to use his drum to keep himself afloat,
replied that he had thought of it, but had given it to one of the
bluejacket boys for that purpose, as the lad had nothing to keep himself
afloat in the heavy seas then prevailing, and _that he did not feel very
nervous_. Surely the cool courage in the face of death, superlative
bravery, and absolute self-devotion that have been displayed during the
last few months by officers and men--yes, and boys too--of navy and army
alike, have equalled, if not eclipsed, the finest deeds of our
forefathers "in the brave days of old".
At last, on 24th January, our eager navy had its chance of castigating
the evasive enemy. The Battle-cruiser Squadron, consisting of the
_Lion_, _Princess Royal_, _Tiger_, _New Zealand_, and _Indomitable_,
under the command of Sir David Beatty, who flew his flag on the _Lion_,
in company with Commodore Goodenough's Light Squadron, comprising the
_Southampton_, _Nottingham_, _Birmingham_, and _Lowestoft_, was
patrolling in the North Sea, preceded some way ahead by the _Undaunted_,
_Arethusa_, and _Aurora_, with destroyer flotillas, when about half-past
seven in the morning the flashing of guns was observed to the
south-south-east. Presently came a message to the flagship from the
_Aurora_ that she was in action with the enemy.
Speed was increased, and the British squadrons rushed at full speed
towards the scene of conflict. Other messages came in from the ships in
advance reporting that the enemy's force, consisting of the _Blücher_,
three battle-cruisers, and six light cruisers, had altered course to
south-east, while a number of destroyers were heading to the north-west.
The main body of the enemy very shortly came in sight, but they were at
a great distance, and making off as fast as they knew how. After them
ploughed the British leviathans and their satellites, but it was not
till nine minutes after nine that the _Lion_ got in her first hit on the
_Blücher_ at something like 10 miles distance!
The enemy were in "line ahead", the _Blücher_ being the rearmost ship.
Their light cruisers were away ahead and their destroyers on their port
flank, apparently meditating a dash against the advancing British. Our
flotillas, with their attendant cruisers, were at this time away on the
port quarter of the battle-cruisers, where they had been placed so as
not to obstruct the aim of the big guns by their smoke, but the "M"
division of destroyers was now sent ahead in order to attend to the
German flotilla.
By this time the leading German ship--supposed to be the _Seydlitz_--was
on fire, and so was the third ship in their line. The enemy's destroyers
now began to stoke up, and threw out thick black clouds of smoke, under
cover of which their big ships altered course to the northward. As soon
as this manoeuvre was apparent, the British ships, which by now were
tearing through the water at tremendous speed, turned to follow,
whereupon their destroyers again evinced a disposition to attack. But
upon the _Lion_ and _Tiger_ turning their guns upon them they thought
better of it, and returned to their former position. Our light cruisers
kept station on the port quarter of the enemy, ready to pounce upon any
cripples. Just after a quarter to eleven the _Blücher_, which had been
gradually falling astern, turned out of the line to port. She was on
fire, had a heavy list, and was evidently very badly mauled. A few
minutes later the periscopes of a number of submarines were noticed on
the starboard bow of our battle-cruisers, which at once turned to port
to avoid them.
At the pace at which our ships were travelling these insidious foes
would soon be left behind. Soon afterwards the flagship, having received
damage which could not be at once repaired, was ordered to go off to the
north-west, the admiral calling the destroyer _Attack_ alongside and
going in her to the _Princess Royal_, on board of which he rehoisted his
flag. On arrival he was informed that the _Blücher_ had been sunk, and
that the remainder of the enemy's ships were making off to the eastward
in a badly-damaged condition.
The _Seydlitz_ and _Derflinger_, particularly, were said to have been
desperately knocked about. But as the battle had now approached the area
of the German mine-fields, it was wisely determined to break it off and
return to English waters, the _Lion_, which had received a shot in her
condensers, being taken in tow by the _Indomitable_. The only ships on
our side that were hit were the _Lion_ and the _Tiger_, and the little
_Meteor_, which led the destroyers interposed between the German
destroyers and our main line; and the total casualties were only
fourteen officers and men killed and twenty-nine wounded. The German
losses must have been terrible.
One of the survivors of the _Blücher_ gave a vivid account of the
effects of our gunnery.[101] "The British guns were ranging. Those
deadly waterspouts crept nearer and nearer. The men on deck watched them
with a strange fascination. Soon one pitched close to the ship, and a
vast watery pillar, a hundred metres high, fell lashing on the deck. The
range had been found. Now the shells came thick and fast, with a
horrible droning hum. At once they did terrible execution. The electric
plant was soon destroyed, and the ship plunged in a darkness that could
be felt. Down below there was horror and confusion, mingled with gasping
shouts and moans as the shells plunged through the decks. At first they
came dropping from the sky. They penetrated the decks, they bored their
way even to the stokehold. The coal in the bunkers was set on fire.
Since the bunkers were half-empty the fire burned merrily. In the
engine-room a shell licked up the oil, and sprayed it around in flames
of blue and green, scarring its victims and blazing where it fell. Men
huddled together in dark compartments, but the shells sought them out,
and there death had a rich harvest.
"The terrific air-pressure resulting from explosion in a confined space
left a deep impression on the minds of the men of the _Blücher_. The
air, it would seem, roars through every opening and tears its way
through every weak spot. All loose or insecure fittings were transformed
into moving instruments of destruction. Open doors bang to and jamb, and
closed iron doors bend outwards like tin plates, and through it all the
bodies of men are whirled about like dead leaves in a winter blast, to
be battered to death against the iron walls." Has Dante beaten this
description of an Inferno?
FOOTNOTES:
[100] _Globe and Laurel._
[101] _Times._