BRITANNIA RULES THE WAVES
The month of October, 1914, contained no important naval contests. On
the 15th, the old British cruiser Hawke was torpedoed in the North Sea
and nearly five hundred men were lost. On the other hand, on the 17th
of October, the light cruiser Undaunted, accompanied by the destroyers,
Lance, Legion and Loyal, sank four German destroyers off the Dutch
coast. But the opening of November turned the interest of the navy to
the Southern Pacific. When the war began Admiral von Spee, with the
German Pacific squadron, was at Kiaochau in command of seven vessels.
Among these was the Emden, whose adventurous career has been already
described. Another, the Karlsruhe, became a privateer in the South
Atlantic.
Early in August Von Spee set sail from Kiaochau with two armored
cruisers, the Gneisenau and the Scharnhorst and three light cruisers,
the Dresden, Leipzig and Nurmberg. These ships were comparatively new,
well armed, and of considerable speed. They set off for the great trade
highways to destroy, as far as possible, British commerce. Their route
led them to the western coast of South America, and arrangements were
made so that they were coaled and provisioned from bases in some of the
South American states which permitted a slack observance of the laws
respecting the duties of neutrals.
A small British squadron had been detailed to protect British commerce
in this part of the world. It was commanded by Rear-Admiral Sir
Christopher Cradock, a distinguished and popular sailor, who had under
his command one twelve-year-old battleship, the Canopus, two armored
cruisers, the Good Hope and the Monmouth, the light cruiser Glasgow,
and an armed liner, the Otranto. None of these vessels had either great
speed or heavy armament. The equipment of the Canopus, indeed, was
obsolete. Admiral Cradock’s squadron arrived at Halifax on August 14th,
thence sailed to Bermuda, then on past Venezuela and Brazil around the
Horn. It visited the Falkland Islands, and by the third week of October
was on the coast of Chile. The Canopus had dropped behind for repairs,
and though reinforcements were expected, they had not yet arrived. They
knew that their force was inferior to that of Admiral von Spee.
One officer wrote, on the 12th of October, “From now till the end of
the month is the critical time, as it will decide whether we shall
have to fight a superior German force from the Pacific before we
can get reinforcements from home or the Mediterranean. We feel that
the admiralty ought to have a better force here, but we shall fight
cheerfully whatever odds we have to face.”
Admiral Cradock knew well that his enemy was superior in force. From
Coronel, where he sent off some cables, he went north on the first of
November, and about four o’clock in the afternoon the Glasgow sighted
the enemy. The two big German armored cruisers were leading the way,
and two light cruisers were following close. The German cruiser Leipzig
does not seem to have been in company. The British squadron was led
by the Good Hope, with the Monmouth, Glasgow and Otranto following
in order. It was a beautiful spectacle. The sun was setting in the
wonderful glory which one sees in the Pacific, and the British ships,
west of the German, must have appeared to them in brilliant colors. On
the east were the snowy peaks of the Andes. Half a gale was blowing and
the two squadrons moved south at great speed. About seven o’clock they
were about seven miles apart and the Scharnhorst, which was leading the
German fleet, opened fire. At this time the Germans were shaded by the
inshore twilight, but the British ships must have showed up plainly in
the afterglow. The enemy fired with great accuracy. Shell after shell
hit the Good Hope and the Monmouth, but the bad light and inferior guns
saved the German ships from much damage. The Good Hope was set on fire
and at seven-fifty exploded and sank. The Monmouth was also on fire,
and turned away to the western sea. The Glasgow had escaped so far,
but the whole German squadron bore down upon her. She turned and fled
and by nine o’clock was out of sight of the enemy. The Otranto, only
an armed liner, had disappeared early in the fight. On the following
day the Glasgow worked around to the south, and joined the Canopus, and
the two proceeded to the Straits of the Magellan. The account of this
battle by the German Admiral von Spee is of especial interest:
“Wind and swell were head on, and the vessels had heavy going,
especially the small cruisers on both sides. Observation and distance
estimation were under a severe handicap because of the seas which
washed over the bridges. The swell was so great that it obscured the
aim of the gunners at the six-inch guns on the middle deck, who could
not see the sterns of the enemy ships at all, and the bow but seldom.
At 6.20 P. M., at a distance of 13,400 yards, I turned one point
toward the enemy, and at 6.34 opened fire at a distance of 11,260
yards. The guns of both our armored cruisers were effective, and at
6.39 already we could note the first hit on the Good Hope. I at once
resumed a parallel course, instead of bearing slightly toward the
enemy. The English opened their fire at this time. I assume that the
heavy sea made more trouble for them than it did for us. Their two
armored cruisers remained covered by our fire, while they, so far as
could be determined, hit the Scharnhorst but twice, and the Gneisenau
only four times. At 6.53, when 6,500 yards apart, I ordered a course
one point away from the enemy. They were firing more slowly at this
time, while we were able to count numerous hits. We could see, among
other things, that the top of the Monmouth’s forward turret had been
shot away, and that a violent fire was burning in the turret. The
Scharnhorst, it is thought, hit the Good Hope about thirty-five times.
In spite of our altered course the English changed theirs sufficiently
so that the distance between us shrunk to 5,300 yards. There was
reason to suspect that the enemy despaired of using his artillery
effectively, and was maneuvering for a torpedo attack.
“The position of the moon which had risen at six o’clock, was favorable
to this move. Accordingly I gradually opened up further distances
between the squadrons by another deflection of the leading ship, at
7.45. In the meantime it had grown dark. The range finders on the
Scharnhorst used the fire on the Monmouth as a guide for a time,
though eventually all range finding, aiming and observations became so
inexact that fire was stopped at 7.26. At 7.23 a column of fire from an
explosion was noticed between the stacks of the Good Hope. The Monmouth
apparently stopped firing at 7.20. The small cruisers, including the
Nuremburg, received by wireless at 7.30 the order to follow the enemy
and to attack his ships with torpedoes. Vision was somewhat obscured
at this time by a rain squall. The light cruisers were not able to
find the Good Hope, but the Nuremburg encountered the Monmouth and at
8.58 was able, by shots at closest range, to capsize her, without a
single shot being fired in return. Rescue work in the heavy sea was not
to be thought of, especially as the Nuremburg immediately afterwards
believed she had sighted the smoke of another ship and had to prepare
for another attack. The small cruisers had neither losses nor damage in
the battle. On the Gneisenau there were two men slightly wounded. The
crews of the ships went into the fight with enthusiasm, everyone did
his duty, and played his part in the victory.”
Little criticism can be made of the tactics used by Vice-Admiral Spee.
He appears to have maneuvered so as to secure the advantage of light,
wind and sea. He also seems to have suited himself as regards the range.
Admiral Cradock was much criticised for joining battle with his little
fleet against such odds, but he followed the glorious traditions of
the English navy. He, and 1,650 officers and men, were lost, and the
news was hailed as a great German victory. But the British admiralty
were thoroughly roused. Rear-Admiral Sir Frederick Doveton Sturdee,
chief of the war staff, proceeded at once with a squadron to the South
Atlantic. With him were two battle cruisers, the Invincible and the
Inflexible, three armored cruisers, the Carnovan, the Kent and the
Cornwall. His fleet was joined by the light cruiser Bristol and the
armed liner Macedonia. The Glasgow, fresh from her rough experience,
was found in the South Atlantic. Admiral Sturdee then laid his plans to
come in touch with the victorious German squadron. A wireless message
was sent to the Canopus, bidding her proceed to Port Stanley in the
Falkland Islands. This message was intercepted by the Germans, as was
intended.
Admiral von Spee, fearing the Japanese fleet, was already headed for
Cape Horn. He thought that the Canopus could be easily captured at
Port Stanley, and he started at once to that port. Admiral Sturdee’s
expedition had been kept profoundly secret. On December 7th the British
squadron arrived at Port Stanley, and spent the day coaling. The
Canopus, the Glasgow and the Bristol were in the inner harbor, while
the remaining vessels lay outside. On December 8th, Admiral von Spee
arrived from the direction of Cape Horn. The battle that followed is
thoroughly described in the report of Vice-Admiral Sturdee from which
the following extracts have been made:
“At 8 A. M., Tuesday, December 8th, a signal was received from the
signal station on shore. ‘A four-funnel and two-funnel man-of-war in
sight from Sapper Hill steering north.’ The Kent was at once ordered
to weigh anchor, and a general signal was made to raise steam for full
speed. At 8.20 the signal service station reported another column
of smoke in sight, and at 8.47 the Canopus reported that the first
two ships were eight miles off, and that the smoke reported at 8.20
appeared to be the smoke of two ships about twenty miles off. At 9.20
A. M. the two leading ships of the enemy, the Gneisenau and Nuremburg,
with guns trained on the wireless station, came within range of the
Canopus, which opened fire at them across the lowland at a range of
11,000 yards. The enemy at once hoisted their colors, and turned away.
A few minutes later the two cruisers altered course to port, as though
to close the Kent at the entrance to the harbor. But at about this time
it seems that the Invincible and Inflexible were seen over the land,
and the enemy at once altered course, and increased speed to join their
consorts. At 9.45 A. M. the squadron weighed anchor and proceeded out
of the harbor, the Carnovan leading. On passing Cape Pembroke light,
the five ships of the enemy appeared clearly in sight to the southeast,
hull down. The visibility was at its maximum, the sea was calm, with
a bright sun, a clear sky, and a light breeze from the northwest. At
10.20 the signal for a general chase was made. At this time the enemy’s
funnels and bridges showed just above the horizon. Information was
received from the Bristol at 11.27 that three enemy ships had appeared
off Port Pleasant, probably colliers or transports. The Bristol was
therefore directed to take the Macedonia under orders, and destroy
transports.
“The enemy were still maintaining their distance, and I decided at
12.20 P. M. to attack, with the two battle cruisers and the Glasgow. At
12.47 P. M. the signal to ‘Open fire and engage the enemy’ was made.
The Inflexible opened fire at 12.55 P. M. at the right-hand ship of the
enemy, and a few minutes later the Invincible opened fire at the same
ship. The deliberate fire became too threatening, and when a shell fell
close alongside her at 1.20 P. M. she, the Leipzig, turned away, with
the Nuremburg and Dresden, to the southwest. These light cruisers were
at once followed by the Kent, Glasgow and Cornwall.
“The action finally developed into three separate encounters. First,
the action with the armored cruisers. The fire of the battle cruisers
was directed on the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. The effect of this was
quickly seen, when, with the Scharnhorst leading, they turned about
seven points to port, and opened fire. Shortly afterwards the battle
cruisers were ordered to turn together with the Invincible leading.
The enemy then turned about ten points to starboard, and a second
chase ensued until, at 2.45, the battle cruisers again opened fire.
This caused the enemy to turn into line ahead to port and open fire.
The Scharnhorst caught fire forward, but not seriously, and her fire
slackened perceptibly. The Gneisenau was badly hit by the Inflexible.
“At 3.30 P. M. the Scharnhorst turned about ten points to starboard,
her fire had slackened perceptibly, and one shell had shot away her
third funnel. Some guns were not firing, and it would appear that the
turn was dictated by a desire to bring her starboard guns into action.
The effect of the fire on the Scharnhorst became more and more apparent
in consequence of smoke from fires and also escaping steam. At times
a shell would cause a large hole to appear in her side, through which
could be seen a dull, red glow of flame.
“At 4.04 P. M. the Scharnhorst, whose flag remained flying to the
last, suddenly listed heavily to port, and within a minute it became
clear that she was a doomed ship, for the list increased very rapidly
until she lay on her beam ends. At 4.17 P. M. she disappeared. The
Gneisenau passed on the far side of her late flagship, and continued a
determined, but ineffectual, effort to fight the two battle cruisers.
At 5.08 P. M. the forward funnel was knocked over, and remained resting
against the second funnel. She was evidently in serious straits, and
her fire slackened very much.
“At 5.15 P. M. one of the Gneisenau’s shells struck the Invincible.
This was her last effective effort. At 5.30 P. M. she turned toward
the flagship with a heavy list to starboard, and appeared to stop,
the steam pouring from her escape pipes, and smoke from shell and
fires rising everywhere. About this time I ordered the signal ‘Cease
fire,’ but before it was hoisted, the Gneisenau opened fire again, and
continued to fire from time to time with a single gun. At 5.40 P. M.
the three ships closed in on the Gneisenau, and at this time the flag
flying at her fore truck, was apparently hauled down, but the flag at
the peak continued flying. At 5.50 ‘Cease fire’ was made. At 6 P. M.
the Gneisenau keeled over very suddenly, showing the men gathered on
her decks, and then walking on her side as she lay for a minute on her
beam ends before sinking.
“The prisoners of war from the Gneisenau report that by the time the
ammunition was expended some six hundred men had been killed and
wounded. When the ship capsized and sank there were probably some two
hundred unwounded survivors in the water, but, owing to the shock of
the cold water, many were drowned within sight of the boats and ships.
Every effort was made to save life as quickly as possible, both by
boats and from the ships. Life buoys were thrown and ropes lowered, but
only a portion could be rescued. The Invincible alone rescued a hundred
and eight men, fourteen of whom were found to be dead after being
brought on board. These men were buried at sea the following day, with
full military honors.
“Second, action with the light cruisers. About one P. M. when the
Scharnhorst and the Gneisenau turned to port to engage the Invincible
and the Inflexible, the enemy’s light cruisers turned to starboard to
escape. The Dresden was leading, and the Nuremburg and Leipzig followed
on each quarter. In accordance with my instructions, the Glasgow,
Kent and Cornwall at once went in chase of these ships. The Glasgow
drew well ahead of the Cornwall and Kent, and at 3 P. M. shots were
exchanged with the Leipzig at 12,000 yards. The Glasgow’s object was to
endeavor to outrange the Leipzig, and thus cause her to alter course
and give the Cornwall and Kent a chance of coming into action. At 4.17
P. M. the Cornwall opened fire also on the Leipzig; at 7.17 P. M. the
Leipzig was on fire fore and aft, and the Cornwall and Glasgow ceased
fire. The Leipzig turned over on her port side and disappeared at 9 P.
M. Seven officers and eleven men were saved. At 3.36 P. M. the Cornwall
ordered the Kent to engage the Nuremburg, the nearest cruiser to her.
At 6.35 P. M. the Nuremburg was on fire forward, and ceased firing. The
Kent also ceased firing, then, as the colors were still observed to be
flying on the Nuremburg, the Kent opened fire again. Fire was finally
stopped five minutes later, on the colors being hauled down, and every
preparation was made to save life. The Nuremburg sank at 7.27, and as
she sank a group of men were waving the German ensign attached to a
staff.
“Twelve men were rescued, but only seven survived. The Kent had four
killed and twelve wounded, mostly caused by one shell. During the time
the three cruisers were engaged with the Nuremburg and Leipzig, the
Dresden, which was beyond her consorts, effected her escape, owing to
her superior speed. The Glasgow was the only cruiser with sufficient
speed to have had any chance of success, however she was fully employed
in engaging the Leipzig for over an hour before either the Cornwall or
Kent could come up and get within range. During this time the Dresden
was able to increase her distance and get out of sight. Three, Action
with the enemy’s transports. H.M.S. Macedonia reports that only two
ships, the steamships Baden and Santa Isabel, were present. Both ships
were sunk after removal of the crews.”
[Illustration: UNITED STATES DESTROYERS THROWING OUT A SMOKE SCREEN
By burning smoke pots the light fast vessels are able to create an
artificial cloud which conceals the movements of the battleships from
the enemy.]
Thus was annihilated the last squadron belonging to Germany outside the
North Sea. The defeat of Cradock had been revenged. The British losses
were very small, considering the length of the fight and the desperate
efforts of the German fleet. Only one ship of the German squadron was
able to escape, and this on account of her great speed. The German
sailors went down with colors flying. They died as Cradock’s men had
died.
The naval war now entered upon a new phase. The shores of Great Britain
had for many years been so thoroughly protected by the British navy
that few coast fortifications had been built, except at important naval
stations. Invasion on a grand scale was plainly impossible, so long as
the British fleets held control of the sea. With German guns across
the Channel almost within hearing it was evident that a raiding party
might easily reach the English shore on some foggy night. The English
people were much disturbed. They had read the accounts of the horrible
brutalities of the German troops in Belgium and eastern France, and
they imagined their feelings if a band of such ferocious brutes were to
land in England and pillage their peaceful homes. There was a humorous
side to the way in which the yeomanry and territorials entrenched
themselves along the eastern coast line, but the Germans, angry at the
failure of their fleets, determined to disturb the British peace by
raids, slight as the military advantage of such raids might be.
On November 2d a fleet of German warships sailed from the Elbe. They
were three battle cruisers, the Seydlitz, the Moltke, and the Von Der
Tann; two armored cruisers, the Blücher and the York, and three light
cruisers, the Kolberg, the Graudenz, and the Strasburg. They were
mainly fast vessels and the battle cruisers carried eleven-inch guns.
Early in the morning they ran through the nets of a British fishing
fleet. Later an old coast police boat, the Halcyon, was shot at a few
times. About eight o’clock they were opposite Yarmouth, and proceeded
to bombard that naval station from a distance of about ten miles. Their
range was poor and their shells did no damage. They then turned swiftly
for home, but on the road back the York struck a mine, and was sunk.
[Illustration: English Coast Towns that Were Raided]
On the 16th of December they came again, full of revenge because of the
destruction of von Spee and his squadron. Early in the morning early
risers in Scarborough saw in the north four strange ships. Scarborough
was absolutely without defense. It had once been an artillery depot
but in recent years had been a cavalry station, and some few troops
of this service were quartered there. Otherwise it was an open seaside
resort. The German ships poured shells into the defenseless town,
aiming at every large object they could see, the Grand Hotel, the gas
works, the water works and the wireless station. Churches, public
buildings, and hospitals were hit, as well as private houses. Over five
hundred shells were fired. Then the ships turned around and moved away.
The streets were crowded with puzzled and scared inhabitants, many of
whom, as is customary in watering places, were women, children and
invalids.
[Illustration: GERMANY CARRIES THE WAR TO EAST COAST TOWNS OF ENGLAND
By raids with light cruisers on the coast towns, and Zeppelins and
airplanes further inland, Germany sought to frighten the British
populace. At Hartlepool, where this scene was enacted, several
civilians, some of them women and children, were killed by bursting
shells of the raiders.]
At nine o’clock Whitby, a coast town near Scarborough, saw two great
ships steaming up from the south. Ten minutes later the ships were
firing. The old Abbey of Hilda and Cedman was struck, but on the whole
little damage was done. Another division of the invaders visited
the Hartlepools. There there was a small fort, with a battery of
old-fashioned guns, and off the shore was a small British flotilla,
a gunboat and two destroyers. The three battle cruisers among the
German raiders opened fire. The little British fleet did what they
could but were quickly driven off. The German ships then approached the
shore and fired on the English battery, the first fight with a foreign
foe in England since 1690. The British battery consisted of some
territorials who stood without wavering to their guns and kept up for
half an hour a furious cannonading. A great deal of damage was done;
churches, hospitals, workhouses and schools were all hit. The total
deathroll was 119, and the wounded over 300. Six hundred houses were
damaged or destroyed, but there was a great deal of heroism, not only
among the territorials, but among the inhabitants of the town, and when
the last shots were fired all turned to the work of relief.
Somewhere between nine and ten o’clock the bold German fleet started
for home. The British Grand Fleet had been notified of the raid and
two battle cruiser squadrons were hurrying to intercept them. But the
weather had thickened and the waters of the North Sea were covered
with fog belts stretching for hundreds of miles. And so the raiders
returned safe to receive their Iron Crosses. The German aim in such
raids was probably to create a panic, and so interfere with the English
military plans. If the English had not looked at the matter with common
sense they might easily have been tempted to spend millions of pounds
on seaboard fortifications, and keep millions of men at home who were
more necessary in the armies in France. But the English people kept
their heads.
Germany, perceiving the indignation of the world at these bombardments
of defenseless watering places, endeavored to appease criticism by
describing them as fortified towns. But the well-known excellence of
the German system of espionage makes it plain that they knew the true
condition of affairs. These towns were not selected as fortified towns,
but because they were not, and destruction in unfortified towns it was
thought would have a greater effect than in a fortified town where it
would be regarded as among the natural risks of war.
During the rest of the year of 1914 no further sea-fight took place in
the North Sea nor was there any serious loss to the navy from torpedo
or submarine. But on the first of January, 1915, the British ship
Formidable, 15,000 tons, was struck by two torpedoes and sunk. The
previous day she had left Sheerness with eight vessels of the Channel
fleet and with no protection from destroyers. The night was a bright
moonlight and for such vessels to be moving in line on such a night
without destroyers shows gross carelessness. Out of a crew of 800 men
only 201 were saved, and the rescue of this part of the crew was due to
the seamanship of Captain Pillar of the trawler Providence, who managed
to take most of those rescued on board his vessel.
On January 24th the German battle cruiser squadron under Rear-Admiral
Hipper set sail from Wilhelmshaven. What his object was is not known.
He had enlarged the mine field north of Helgoland and north of the
mine field had stationed a submarine flotilla. It is likely that he was
planning to induce the British fleet to follow him into the mine field,
or within reach of his submarines. That same morning the British battle
cruiser squadron under Vice-Admiral Sir David Beatty put to sea.
According to the official report of the English Admiral he was in
command of the following vessels: battle cruisers, the Lion, Princess
Royal, the Tiger, the New Zealand, and the Indomitable; light cruisers,
the Southampton, the Nottingham, the Birmingham, the Lowestoft, the
Arethusa, the Aurora and the Undaunted, with destroyer flotillas under
Commodore Tyrwhitt. The German Admiral had with him the Seydlitz,
the Moltke, the Derfflinger, the Blücher, six light cruisers and a
destroyer flotilla. The English Admiral apparently had some hint of the
plans of the German squadron. The night of the 23d had been foggy; in
the morning, however, the wind came from the northeast and cleared off
the mists. An abridgment of the official report gives a good account
of the battle, sometimes called the battle of Dogger Bank:
[Illustration: _Courtesy of Joseph A. Steinmetz, Phila._
THE EYE OF THE SUBMARINE
Diagram of a periscope, showing how, when its tip is lifted out of
water, a picture of the sea’s surface is reflected downward from a
prism, through lenses, and then a lower prism to the officer’s eye. It
turns in any direction.]
“At 7.25 A. M. the flash of guns was observed south-southeast; shortly
afterwards the report reached me from the Aurora that she was engaged
with enemy ships. I immediately altered course to south-southeast,
increased speed, and ordered the light cruisers and flotillas to get
in touch and report movements of enemy. This order was acted upon
with great promptitude, indeed my wishes had already been forestalled
by the respective senior officers, and reports almost immediately
followed from the Southampton, Arethusa, and Aurora as to the position
and composition of the enemy. The enemy had altered their course to
southeast; from now onward the light cruisers maintained touch with
the enemy and kept me fully informed as to their movements. The battle
cruisers worked up to full speed, steering to the southward; the wind
at the time was northeast, light, with extreme visibility.
“At 7.30 A. M. the enemy were sighted on the port bow, steaming fast,
steering approximately southeast, distance fourteen miles. Owing to the
prompt reports received we had attained our position on the quarter of
the enemy, and altered course to run parallel to them. We then settled
down to a long stern chase, gradually increasing our speed until we
reached 28.5 knots.
“Great credit is due to the engineer staffs of the New Zealand and
Indomitable. These ships greatly exceeded their speed. At 8.52 A. M.,
as we had closed within 20,000 yards of the rear ship, the battle
cruisers maneuvered so that guns would bear and the Lion fired a single
shot which fell short. The enemy at this time were in single line
ahead, with light cruisers ahead and a large number of destroyers on
their starboard beam. Single shots were fired at intervals to test
the range and at 9.09 the Lion made her first hit on the Blücher, the
rear ship of the German line. At 9.20 the Tiger opened fire on the
Blücher, and the Lion shifted to the third in the line, this ship
being hit by several salvos. The enemy returned our fire at 9.14
A. M., the Princess Royal, on coming into range, opened fire on the
Blücher. The New Zealand was also within range of the Blücher which had
dropped somewhat astern, and opened fire on her. The Princess Royal
then shifted to the third ship in the line (Derfflinger) inflicting
considerable damage on her. Our flotilla cruisers and destroyers had
gradually dropped from a position, broad on our beam, to our port
quarter, so as not to foul our range with their smoke. But the enemy’s
destroyers threatening attack, the Meteor and M division passed ahead
of us.
“About 9.45 the situation was about as follows: The Blücher, the
fourth in her line, showed signs of having suffered severely from
gun fire, their leading ship and number three were also on fire. The
enemy’s destroyers emitted vast columns of smoke to screen their
battle cruisers, and under cover of this the latter now appeared to
have altered course to the northward to increase their distance. The
battle cruisers therefore were ordered to form a line of bearing
north-northwest, and proceeded at the utmost speed. Their destroyers
then showed evident signs of an attempt to attack. The Lion and the
Tiger opened fire upon them, and caused them to retire and resume their
original course.
“At 10.48 A. M. the Blücher, which had dropped considerably astern
of the enemy’s line, hauled out to port, steering north with a heavy
list, on fire, and apparently in a defeated condition. I consequently
ordered the Indomitable to attack the enemy breaking northward. At
10.54 submarines were reported on the starboard bow, and I personally
observed the wash of a periscope. I immediately turned to port. At
10.03 an injury to the Lion being reported as being incapable of
immediate repair, I directed the Lion to shape course northwest.
[Illustration: © _International News Service_.
THE SINKING OF THE GERMAN CRUISER “BLÜCHER”
This dramatic photograph from the great North Sea Battle in 1915 shows
the stricken ship just as she turned turtle and was about to sink.
Officers and men can be seen swarming like ants on the upper side of
the hull. Others, who either fell or preferred to take their chance in
the sea, are shown swimming away from the wreck.]
“At 11.20 I called the Attack alongside, shifting my flag to her, and
proceeded at utmost speed to rejoin the squadron. I met them at noon,
retiring north-northwest. I boarded and hoisted my flag on the Princess
Royal, when Captain Brock acquainted me with what had occurred since
the Lion fell out of line, namely, that the Blücher had been sunk
and that the enemy battle cruisers had continued their course to the
eastward in a considerably damaged condition. He also informed me that
a Zeppelin and a seaplane had endeavored to drop bombs on the vessels
which went to the rescue of the survivors of the Blücher.”
It appears from this report that as soon as the Germans sighted the
British fleet they promptly turned around and fled to the southeast.
This flight, before they could have known the full British strength,
suggests that the German Admiral was hoping to lure the British
vessels into the Helgoland trap. The British gunnery was remarkably
good, shot after shot taking effect at a distance of ten miles, and
that too when moving at over thirty miles an hour. Over 120 of the
crew of the Blücher were rescued and more would have been rescued if
it had not been for the attack upon the rescue parties by the German
aircraft. The injury to the Lion was very unfortunate. Admiral Beatty
handed over charge of the battle cruisers to Rear-Admiral Moore, and
when he was able to overtake the squadron he found that under Admiral
Moore’s orders the British fleet were retiring. The British squadron
at the moment of turning was seventy miles from Helgoland, and in no
danger from its mine fields. What might have been a crushing victory
became therefore only a partial one: the Germans lost the Blücher; the
Derfflinger and the Seydlitz were badly injured, but it seems that with
a little more persistence the whole German squadron might have been
destroyed.
The result was a serious blow to Germany. This engagement was the first
between modern big-gun ships. Particular interest is also attached to
it because each squadron was accompanied by scouting and screening
light cruisers and destroyers. It was fear of submarines and mines,
moreover, that influenced the British to break off the engagement. A
Zeppelin airship and a seaplane also took part, and perhaps assisted
in the fire control of the Germans. The conditions surrounding this
battle were ideal for illustrating the functions of battle cruisers.
The German warship raid on the British coast of the previous month was
still fresh in mind, and when this situation off the Dogger Bank arose
the timely interposing of Admiral Beatty’s superior force, the fast
chase, the long-range fighting, the loss of the Blücher and the hasty
retreat of the enemy, were all particularly pleasing to the British
people. As a result the battle cruiser type of ship attained great
popularity.