THE ENGAGEMENT
The enemy perceived the advance of this formidable squadron in an
instant, and there was a lull in the fire of the German ships.
Then the guns opened with redoubled vigor, and the entire German
fleet turned to flee.
Not unwilling to take advantage of the apparent fact that they
had but one enemy to encounter--the Canopus--now that the
odds were somewhat against them there was a different story.
Evidently the German admiral held five German ships against one
British vessel fair odds, but he was not minded to have the odds
eight to five against him.
But the German fleet, secure in the belief that it had but one
enemy to contend with, had advanced too far. Escape now was
impossible. The greater speed of the British ships became
apparent as the chase continued, the English ever gaining.
At last, realizing that there was no hope of escape, Admiral von
Spee turned to give battle. The Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and
Leipzig immediately formed in battle line.
Immediately the British ships slowed up. The Nurnberg and
Dresden, the two smaller German cruisers, did not join the other
three German ships in battle formation, but continued their
flight.
This was what those on board the Sylph had expected, and the
little scout cruiser, making a slight detour, to avoid, as far as
possible, shells from the three German cruisers, started in
pursuit, full speed ahead. The German vessels, however, had
considerable of a start, and it was plain that the Sylph would
not overhaul them for hours.
In the meantime the battle was raging fiercely. From the first
the British concentrated their fire on the German flagship. The
huge thirty-four centimeter guns of the British fleet, as against
the twenty-one centimeter guns of the enemy, made the outcome of
the engagement certain from the first. All that remained was to
see how well the Germans could fight, and what damage they could
inflict on Admiral Sturdee's fleet before being sent to the
bottom.
A huge shell from the British flagship dropped squarely aboard
the Scharnhorst and exploded with a deafening detonation. Metal
and bodies flew high in the air, shattered, and dropped into the
sea for yards around. But the Scharnhorst had not been hit in a
vital spot, and she continued to fight back desperately.
Now a shell from the Canopus struck the Scharnhorst amidships; a
second from the Inflexible and a third from the Invincible
followed in quick succession, and every one went home. The
marksmanship of the British gunners was remarkable.
But the British were not escaping unscathed. A shell from the
Leipzig struck the Cornwall just below the waterline and pierced
her armor, and then exploded. Two men were killed by flying
pieces of steel, and several others were wounded. So far this
was the only loss sustained by the English.
As the battle progressed the fire of the British became more and
more deadly. Hardly a shot was wasted now. The Scharnhorst,
wounded unto death, fought back with the courage born of
desperation.
A well-directed shell burst aboard the Invincible, killing three
men outright and maiming practically every member of a gun crew
near which it struck. But new men were in their places in a
second, and the gun did not even pause in its fire.
Gradually the fire of the Scharnhorst became slower and slower,
as one after another her guns were silenced by the accurate fire
of the British gunners.
Then came the sound of a terrific explosion aboard the German
flagship, and she staggered perceptibly. There was a lull in the
British fire, as a demand was made for the Scharnhorst to
surrender.
The German admiral hurled back a message of defiance to his foes,
and the few remaining guns on his flagship continued to spout
fire and smoke. He had determined to fight to the last, and go
down with his ship, if need be.
The fire from the British ships, the demand for surrender having
been refused, broke out afresh, and finally, struck in a vital
part, the Scharnhorst burst into flames, at the same time
beginning to settle in the water.
Admiral Sturdee could not but admire the way in which the German
sailors stuck to their posts in the face of certain death, and he
ordered the fire against the Scharnhorst to cease, that those on
board might have a chance for life.
But of this chance neither the German admiral nor his men would
take advantage. There were still several guns fit for action,
and these continued to rain shells at the British. And, as the
ship burned like a raging furnace, at the same time settling
lower and lower in the water, these brave men continued to fire
their guns.
Now the last gun had either been silenced or had disappeared
below the water. Admiral von Spee appeared upon deck, in full
view of his enemies. His officers and surviving members of the
crew gathered about him. The sweet music of a band carried
across the water. The Germans stood erect about their commander,
as the flames crept close and the ship settled.
Suddenly it was all over. With a startling movement the
Scharnhorst disappeared beneath the waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
Her commander and crew had stood with bared heads to the last,
and had gone to death, standing as though drawn up for inspection.
There was a faint cheer from them as the ship disappeared beneath
the waves.
The sinking of the German flagship Scharnhorst had required just
a few minutes less than an hour.
Now the entire British fleet concentrated its fire upon the
Gneisenau. In spite of the loss of the flagship and their
admiral, the Germans would not give up; in fact, they seemed
determined to rejoin their companions in the world beyond a
watery grave.
The fire from both German cruisers became fiercer. Shells played
a merry tattoo on the armored sides of the Canopus, upon which
the two German cruisers were concentrating their fire, but the
shells rattled harmlessly off the well-protected sides, and the
Canopus was not damaged.
Gradually now the British squadron closed in on the Gneisenau and
Leipzig, spreading out in a half circle as they advanced. Both
German ships had been vitally wounded, but they continued to
fight back gamely. Shell after shell burst on their decks,
pierced them below the waterline, or carried away their fighting
tops or superstructure.
Battered almost to pieces, and their decks strewn with dead and
dying, they nevertheless fought on.
There would be no surrender. This fact was apparent to the
British, and they directed their fire so as to end the battle as
quickly as possible.
The Gneisenau staggered, and seemed about to go under. She
recovered her equilibrium in an instant, however, and renewed the
battle with even greater vigor than before.
Now the two German cruisers, crippled and battered as they were,
steamed as rapidly they could right toward the British fleet,
making a final effort to inflict a serious blow upon the British
before themselves going to the bottom.
Closer and closer they came, their guns hurling shells at all the
British vessels without favor. A shell struck squarely upon the
bridge of the Canopus, killing an officer; and the splintering
wood that flew about accounted for two more, making the British
death list now eight.
And still the German cruisers came on; and then the Gneisenau
wavered, halted and staggered back. A shell had pierced through
to her boilers. There was an explosion, followed by a great
hissing sound.
Without steam the Gneisenau could steam neither forward nor
backward. Stationary, rising and falling on the swell of the
waves, she continued to pour in her fire, even as the Leipzig
continued on alone.
A British shell struck the Leipzig's steering gear, rendering it
useless, and the German cruiser staggered about at the mercy of
the sea. Still the gunners continued to hurl shells at the
British whenever the guns could be brought to bear.
But this was not often, for the fact that she could not be
steered properly rendered the work of the British much easier.
Admiral Sturdee, greatly impressed with the bravery of the
Germans, decided to give them one more chance for life. He
ordered a cessation of firing and called upon the two cruisers to
surrender.
The merciful offer was met with a cry of defiance, and a shell
burst over the admiral's flagship, dropping half a score of men,
two of whom never arose.
Now the British ships closed in on the two German cruisers, and
poured broadside after broadside into the almost defenseless
hulls.
Suddenly the Gneisenau disappeared beneath the waves, with all on
board, the last that was heard of her being a cheer from her
crew.
The Leipzig lasted but a moment longer. She was listing badly,
and now, suddenly rising on her beam's end, she dived beneath the
water.
The battle of the Falkland Islands, the greatest British sea
victory since the battle off Heligoland, was over.
Boats were quickly lowered from the British ships to rescue, if
possible, survivors of the German ships. A few were picked up,
but not many. Of the more than 1,800 men aboard the three German
cruisers, at least 1,700 had gone to the bottom.
The Scharnhorst and the Gneisenau were the largest cruisers of
the German fleet. They were sister ships, of 11,600 tons'
displacement, 450 feet on the waterline, and were rated at a
speed of 22 1/2 knots. Each carried a complement of 765 men, and
was armed with eight 8.2-inch guns, six 6-inch guns, twenty
24-Pounders, four machine-guns and four torpedo tubes.
The Leipzig had a displacement of 3,250 tons and carried 286 men.
She was 341 feet long on the waterline, had a beam of 43 1/2 feet,
and was rated at 23 knots. Her largest guns, of which she
carried ten, were 4-inch. She had also ten 1-pounders, four
machine-guns and two torpedo tubes.
And these were the three mighty vessels of the battle fleet of
the Emperor of Germany which, after having preyed for months upon
British shipping, had finally been sent to the bottom of the
Atlantic by Admiral Sir Frederick Sturdee, chief of the British
War Staff.