ON THE SEA FLANK OF THE ALLIED ARMIES
IT is a mere truism to say that the sea outflanks all land operations in
warfare. Yet how many people fully realise that the left wing of the
Allied armies in Belgium and France depended for its safety on the naval
command of the North Sea and English Channel? Had this sea flank been
permanently penetrated or forced back by the German fleet, the result
must have been disastrous to a large section of the Allied military
line, which actually extended from the North Sea to the Mediterranean.
Although the security of the North Sea flank did not entirely depend
upon the naval forces based on Dover, Dunkirk and Harwich--as all
operations, whether on land or sea, were overshadowed by the
unchallenged might of the Grand Fleet, which hemmed in the entire German
navy--it was upon these light forces, largely composed of units of the
new navy, that the brunt of the intermittent flank fighting and the
repeated attempts by the enemy to break through--with the aid of all
kinds of ruses and weapons--was borne for four and a half historic
years.
The detailed story of their work on the Belgian coast and in the Straits
of Dover could only be told in a separate volume, but the following
account of a bombardment and its sequel may not be without interest
here. Its relevance to anti-submarine warfare lies in the fact that the
bombardment was carried out with the object of destroying the nests of
these under-water craft established in and around Zeebrugge. Much that
has also been said in former chapters bases its claim to inclusion in
this book almost entirely on the fact that although it did not deal
exclusively with submarine fighting or minesweeping, it nevertheless
formed part of the daily operations of the anti-submarine fleets, and no
account of their work would bear any resemblance to the actual truth in
which such seemingly extraneous episodes were excluded as irrelevant.
THE BOMBARDMENT AND ITS SEQUEL
There was a flat calm, with the freshness of early summer in the air.
Zeebrugge lay away in the darkness some fifteen miles to the
south-east--awake, watchful, but unsuspecting--when the British
bombarding squadron steamed in towards the coast to take up its allotted
position and wait for daybreak.
It was a heterogeneous fleet, screened by fast-moving destroyers,
torpedo-boats, trawlers, M.L.'s and C.M.B.'s. The great hulls of
monitors loomed black against the paling east, and the long thin lines
of destroyers moved stealthily across the shadowy sea. No lights were
visible, and only the occasional rhythmic thud of propellers and the
call of an awakened sea-bird broke the stillness of the morning calm.
The sky was not yet alive with the whir of seaplanes, and the air
remained undisturbed by the shattering roar of guns and shells. It was
that brief space of time in which even Nature seems to hold her breath
and make ready for the coming storm. The only movement other than the
continued circling of destroyers was towards the shallow water close
inshore, where powerful tugs were towing large barges--flat-bottomed
craft carrying gigantic tripods made of railway metals. At predetermined
places these were dropped overboard into the shallow sea and, with their
legs embedded in the sandy bottom and their apices towering high above
the surface, they formed observation platforms from which, in
conjunction with aerial scouts, the fire of the big ships could be
accurately directed on to the fortifications ashore.
These tripods were laid a distance apart and quite away from the
bombarding ships, but a system of range-finding and signalling had been
organised and an officer chosen as a "spotter" in each trestle.
The post of honour was on one or other of these observation towers,
alone with the necessary instruments. The big shells from the shore
batteries would scream overhead; some would plough up the water close
by, smothering the tripod with spray, and the smaller guns would direct
their fire against these eyes of the bombarding fleet. The chances were
in favour of a hit, then there would be nothing left of the tripod or
the spotter, simply a brief report to the Admiral Commanding that No.
---- observation post had been destroyed and later a fresh name in the
casualty lists. It was, however, accepted as the fortune of war, and
many volunteered.
The sky brightened until a pale yellow glow suffused the east, while
behind the bombarding fleet the western horizon was still a cold, hazy
blue. A flight of seaplanes buzzed overhead and a few minutes later the
dull reports of anti-aircraft guns echoed across the miles of still
water. Tiny bright flashes from white puffs of smoke appeared in the
central blue, and then having got the range the great guns of the
monitors roared away their charges and the scream of shells filled the
air. The calm of the morning vanished, and with it the oppressive
silence which precedes a battle.
It was some time before the German airmen could rise from the ground and
evade the British fighting formations. In the meantime a rain of heavy
projectiles from the fleet was destroying all that was destroyable of
the harbour and works of Zeebrugge. With the aid of glasses huge clouds
of smoke and sand could be seen rising into the air almost every second.
Objects discernible one minute had disappeared when the smoke cloud of
bursting shells had moved to another point of concentration a short time
later. When at last the enemy's planes, in isolated ones and twos,
succeeded in hovering over the fleet the surface of the sea was almost
instantly broken by great spouts of white water, at first far away,
then nearer, and the battle commenced in earnest.
A vast cloud of smoke now hung like a black curtain between the fleet
and the shore. The M.L.'s were emitting their smoke screen to cover the
bombarding ships. Shells splashed into the sea all around. The noise and
vibration of the air seemed to bruise the senses, and lurid flashes came
from the smoking monitors.
It was at this stage of the bombardment that the curious and unexpected
happened. A white wave raced along the surface towards a monitor. It was
too big for the wake of a torpedo and quite unlike the periscope of a
submarine. The small, quick-firing guns of all the ships within range
were trained on it and the sea around was ploughed up with shell. The
white wave swerved to avoid the tornado of shot, but continued to make
direct for the hull of the great floating fort at a considerable speed.
Then, as it drew _very_ near to its objective, a shell went home and the
sea was rent by the force of a gigantic explosion, eclipsing that of any
known weapon of sea warfare.
It was, however, soon discovered that the mysterious wave came from a
fast torpedo-shaped boat which was evidently being controlled by
electric impulses from a shore wireless station some twelve to fourteen
miles distant, the necessary information regarding direction of attack
being transmitted by means of wireless signals from a seaplane hovering
overhead, the abnormal force of the explosion being due to the heavy
charge of high explosive which such a craft was able to carry in her
bow, so arranged as to fire on striking the object of attack.
With the failure of this ingenious but costly method of attack
precautions were at once taken against a repetition and the seaplane
hovering inconveniently overhead was driven off. The bombardment was
carried on for the allotted span, by which time the shore batteries that
still remained in action had found the range, notwithstanding the heavy
smoke screen emitted by the M.L.'s. "Heavies" were ploughing up the
water unpleasantly close to the monitors, one of which was struck,
though but little damaged.
It was now considered time to draw off seawards, and the spotting
officers, perched on their tripods, had to climb down the railway irons
under a heavy fire and swim to the ships sent to rescue them. The
tripods were then pulled over on to their sides by ropes attached to
their summits and left lying in the shallow water.
Under cover of the smoke screen the bombarding fleet withdrew, after
inflicting severe damage on the submarine base of Zeebrugge.
. . . . . . . .
Some two weeks previous to this bombardment a warship patrolling off the
Belgian coast had reported a curious explosion in the direction of
Nieuport. The night was dark and the stillness of summer rested over the
Pas-de-Calais. Waves lapped gently the distant sand-dunes and war seemed
a thing far away, remote as the icy winds which blow around the Poles.
In the conning-tower and at the gun stations both officers and men
watched keenly, silently, for the predatory Hun. At any moment the thin
blackish-brown hulls of a raiding flotilla from the bases at Zeebrugge
and Ostend might slide out of the blueness of the night. The beams of
searchlights would momentarily cross and recross the intervening sea and
then the guns would mingle their sharp reports with the groans of dying
men.
To the nerve-racking duties of night patrol in the Straits of Dover they
had grown accustomed--indifferent with the contempt born of
familiarity--but this did not cause any relaxation of vigilance. The
element of surprise is too important a factor in modern war to be
treated lightly.
So it happened that when, shortly after eight bells in the middle watch,
a momentary flash of lurid flame stabbed the darkness away over the
Belgian coast, and was followed by the rumble of a great but distant
explosion, no one stood on his head or lost his breath blowing up a
patent waistcoat, but all remained at the "still." Minutes passed and
nothing happened. Slowly the destroyer crept closer inshore, but the
night was dark and no further sound broke its stillness.
For two hours she scouted and listened. Little more than five miles away
lay the German lines, and the theory was that somewhere in that maze of
trenches and batteries an explosion had occurred.
Next day the mystery deepened, for it became known that a large portion
of Nieuport Pier had been blown away during the night. As this little
seaport was, however, inside the German lines, the mystery remained
unexplained until after the bombardment of Zeebrugge, when it became
known, in _divers_ manner, that one of the electrically controlled boats
had been out on a night manoeuvre and, owing to the difficulties of
seaplane observation in the dark, had accidentally struck the breakwater
of Nieuport.
* * * * *
Many of the patrol boats guarding the Straits of Dover or minesweeping
under the fire of German coast batteries off the Belgian sand-dunes
spent their days or nights of rest (!) in the French seaport of Dunkirk,
returning to Dover only after considerable periods of work on the
opposite coast.
It may be thought that there was but little difference between life in
the British port and that in the French town, considering the short
stretch of sea between them. The following account of a night in Dunkirk
will, however, give some idea of the advantage gained by having even
thirty miles of blue water between an active enemy and a comfortable
bed.
A NIGHT IN DUNKIRK
The night seemed uncannily quiet. In time of peace it would have passed
unnoticed as just ideal summer weather, but when the human ear had grown
accustomed to the almost perpetual thunder of the Flanders guns any
cessation of the noise gave a feeling of disquietude, only to be
likened to the hush of great forests before a tropical storm. The little
town of Dunkirk, with its many ruins, was bathed in shadow, unrelieved
by any artificial light, but the narrow, tortuous harbour showed a
silvery streak in the brilliant moonrays. Above the sleeping town, with
its Poilu sentries and English sailors, was the deep indigo sky,
spangled with stars.
Custom had taught the few civilian and the many naval and military
inhabitants of Dunkirk to regard calm moonlight nights with very mixed
feelings. It was seldom indeed that the Boche neglected such an
opportunity for an air raid. Not merely one brief bombardment from the
skies, but a succession of them, lasting from dusk until early morning,
and repeated night after night while the weather remained favourable.
Owing to adequate preparations for such attacks the casualties were
generally few, but the loss of sleep was nearly always great, unless the
individual was so tired with the day's or week's minesweeping, spell in
the trenches, or sea patrol that the "popping" of guns and the thud of
bombs merely caused a semi-return to consciousness, with a mild,
indefinable feeling of vexation at being momentarily disturbed.
To the majority, however, it meant not only the loss of sorely needed
sleep, but also hard work under trying conditions. To realise fully what
it is to be deprived of rest when the brain is reeling and the movement
of every limb is an agony, it is necessary to have worked, marched and
fought for days and nights incessantly, and then the _moral_ as
distinct from the _material_ effect of successive air raids will be duly
appreciated by those fortunate ones who spent the years 1914 to 1918
remote from the menace.
Although Dunkirk on this particular August night seemed uncannily quiet,
the hour was not late. By Greenwich time it was but a few minutes past
nine, and two bells had only just sounded through the many and diverse
ships lying in tiers alongside the quays. So warm were the soft summer
zephyrs, which scarcely stirred the surface of the water, that on the
decks of many of these war-worn sweepers and patrols men lay stretched
out under the sky in the sound sleep of exhaustion, while on the quays
and at other points in the half-wrecked town steel-helmeted French
sentries kept watch.
Of the British naval forces based on this little French seaport few were
ashore, as, without special permission, both officers and men had to
remain on their ships after sunset, and those not playing cards or
reading in the cabins were lounging and smoking on deck. Blot out of the
view the ruined houses, the shell-holes in the streets, the guns, the
dug-outs and the sentries, and few scenes more unlike the popular
conception of a big war base, with the enemy only a few miles distant,
can be imagined.
But Dunkirk in that year of grace, 1917, did not always wear so peaceful
a garb. There were frequent periods when the shells whistled over or on
to the town, when the earth trembled from the concussion of high
explosives, when buildings collapsed or went heavenwards in clouds of
dust, when the streets were illumined with the yellow flash of picric
acid, or were filled with clouds of poisoned gas, when ambulances
clattered over the cobblestones, trains of wounded rolled in from the
firing line and the killed and maimed were landed from the sea.
The first indication of the change from calm to storm came at the early
hour of 10 P.M., when the air raid warning sounded throughout the town.
On the quayside all was ordered haste. Mooring ropes were cast off with
a minimum of shouting, and the larger ships moved slowly down the
harbour towards the open sea. The few small vessels left seemed to
crouch under the dock walls.
Sentries left their posts to take shelter in the great dug-outs,
constructed of heavy timbers and sand-bags. These were situated at
convenient points throughout the battered little town. In the houses
some people descended to the cellars, but many remained wherever they
happened to be, while in the cabins of the few ships which remained in
harbour the games, the reading, the letter-writing and, in a few cases,
even the sleeping went on undisturbed.
After a short interval of oppressive silence, during which time no light
or sound came from the seemingly deserted town, a faint whir of
propellers became just audible in the stillness of the summer night.
Then it died away momentarily. Suddenly a bright glare, like that of a
star-shell, lit up the roofs and streets, and almost simultaneously
came the dull vibrating report of a bomb. It sounded from the direction
of the cathedral. Searchlights flashed out from various points, but
their powerful rays were lost in the luminous vault above. Guns roared
and bright flashes appeared like summer lightning in the sky. Every few
seconds the town trembled from the shock of exploding bombs, first at
one point and then at another, but nothing could be seen of the raiding
squadron. Pieces from the shells bursting overhead and fragments of
bombs and shattered masonry fell like rain into the streets and into the
waters of the harbour.
On the quayside a big aerial torpedo had made a crater large enough to
bury the horse which it had killed in a near-by stable. A few seconds
later another bomb fell close to a minesweeper and a fragment gashed the
decks but did not penetrate them. In the cabins the concussion of almost
every bomb which fell on shore was felt with curious precision. The
glass of wheel-houses and deck cabins was shattered, and the rattle and
thud on the decks and iron sides denoted the storm of falling metal.
The din of the raid went on for some time and then died away with a
final long-range shot from "Loose Lizzie" on the hills behind. When all
was clear heads appeared from hatchways, dug-outs and cellars. People
searched the sky curiously in an endeavour to make sure that there was
"no deception," although from first to last nothing had been seen of
the raiders except by those with the instruments, the searchlights and
the guns. The latest news of the damage caused--two houses, a man and a
horse--went from mouth to mouth. Then the summer night regained its
tranquillity and Dunkirk slept.
. . . . . . . .
The familiar boom sounded its loudest in the stillness of the night and
the ground seemed to tremble the more violently because of the darkness.
It was 1 A.M. The young moon had sunk beneath the horizon and a light
film of cloud had drifted over the sky.
The old French reservist doing sentry-go on the quay glanced up with a
shrug of indifference and slowly shouldering his rifle walked leisurely
towards a dug-out. Searchlights became busy exploring the sky. This time
their rays were not lost in the opaque blueness above, but went up in
well-defined columns of light until reflected on the lofty clouds.
Presently the beams concentrated and, when the eyes had grown accustomed
to the glare, little white "butterflies" were seen circling in the upper
air. Then the guns opened fire and white puffs, like tiny balls of
cotton-wool, appeared among the butterflies. The earth trembled with the
explosion of falling bombs and the recoil of anti-aircraft batteries. A
little flicker of yellow light appeared in the circle of white. The guns
increased in violence. The yellow light grew in size. It was falling.
The burning machine crashed to earth.
The bombs and the gun-fire lasted for some twenty minutes and then
ceased suddenly, as if by prearranged signal. Allied squadrons were in
the air and the distant crackle of machine guns sounded from the skies.
It died away, however, almost immediately, but the raiders were chased
back to within their own lines minus two of their number.
With the coming of dawn two solitary hostile machines circling at a
fairly low altitude could be seen. They dropped no bombs, but the reason
for their presence was soon apparent. Shells from the long-range guns
behind the German lines began to moan, whistle and burst in and around
the luckless town. A hit was signified by a cloud of smoke, dust and
debris, and ambulances again became busy in the stone-paved streets.
One shell, carrying sufficient explosive to blow up an average-sized
ship, ploughed up the water of the harbour, but did no damage, and by 6
A.M. Allied squadrons had chased away the hostile aerial observers. Once
again the peace of an ideal summer morning reigned over the historic
town.
The few minesweeping and other ships which had remained in the harbour
through the night now commenced to show signs of returning life and
activity. Heavy brown smoke poured from the funnels of some, the
staccato noise of oil engines came from others, and men were busy on the
decks of all. The night's "rest" was over and the vital work of
sweeping, possibly under an irritating fire from shore batteries and
the strain of a necessarily ever-alert patrol, commenced afresh. The
steady barometer promised a fine day for the harvesting of mines and,
for the ships that returned, another night's _rest_ similar to the
previous three!
INDEX
ABERDEEN harbour mined, 209
Aden, mine-field laid off, 145
Admiralty dispatch bearers, 108
Aerial attacks, 293-300
-- bombs, effect of, 297
-- warfare and submarine fighting, 273
Aircraft and convoys, 116
Airship, salving of, 273-279
Allied navies, 69
A memorable Christmas, 191-201
American first army, transport of, 124
Arctic patrol, 52, 227
-- seas, work in, 193-201
Area of sea covered daily by sweepers, 161
Areas, command of, 23
-- patrol of, 128-131
Armed liners, 51
Armies, transport of, 116
Atlantic patrol, 226-232
Australian first army, transport of, 123
Auxiliary patrol office, 25
BASES and their fleets, 113-115
-- war, 23, 24, 102-115
Battle of Jutland, 248-256
Beatty, Sir David, 249, 255, 256
Blister system on monitors, 178
Blockade, naval, 18
Boarding parties, 201-208, 270
Bombardment of Zeebrugge, 287-293
Bombay, mine-field laid off, 145
Bombs, submarine, 91
Boom-defence ships, 68
-- staff, 111
_Brighton Queen_, H.M.S., 54
_Britannia_, H.M.S., torpedoed, 101
British coast completely mined-in, 145
-- Empire, dangerous position of, 117
CALL of the White Ensign, 31, 33
Camouflaged ships, 73, 95
Canada, officers from, 44, 195
Canadian first army, transport of, 123
Case of mistaken identity, 190-191
Castaways, 238-247
Casualties, naval, in Great War, 27, 256
Casualty, a, 220
Chaplains, naval, 109-110
Christmas Day, 1916, 192-201
Clearing large mine-fields, 161
Coastal motor boats, 62
-- construction of, 62-68
-- method of attack, 65
-- bases of, 65
-- _v._ German destroyers, 66
-- in actions off Zeebrugge and Ostend, 61, 68, 287
Colombo, mine-field laid off, 145
Colonial officers, 44-45
Colonies, aid from, 21
Concentration of British fleet, August, 1914, 17
Convoy, composition of, 118-119
Convoy ships, 115
Convoy system, 116-125
Convoying, difficulties of, 122
Convoys, minesweeping in front of, 121, 162
Co-operation between fleets of sea and air, 279
Cruiser Squadron, the Tenth, 51-52
DAN-BUOYS, 199
Danish derelict, 202-208
Decoy system of attack, 137-138
Deluding patrols, 236
Demobilisation, naval, 28
Depth charge, construction of, 80-84
-- method of use, 80-84
-- attacks with, 81-84, 262
Depth charges, 70, 84
Derelict, a, 201-208
Destruction of a U-C boat, 209, 218
Division of sea into patrol areas, 128-131
Docker battalions, 121
Dominions, aid from, 21
Dover lighted barrage, 183-185
-- naval base, 103
Dover patrols, 286, 295-300
Drafting officers, 110
Drifter units, 54, 55, 114
Drifters, loss of in Adriatic, 56
-- -- in Straits of Dover, 56
Duffel clothing, 195
Dunkirk, a night spent in, 293-300
-- patrols, 286, 293-300
EFFECT of danger on human senses, 261
Effect of shell fire, 256
Electrically controlled boats off Zeebrugge, 290-293
_Engadine_, H.M.S., 255
England's food supply, 18-19
Evening quarters in warships, 41
Examination ships, 68
Excitement, suppressed, before an action, 259
Exploratory minesweeping, 158-161
FIGHT, an epic, 226-232
Finding the ships, guns and men, 21
Firth of Forth, mines in, 209
Fishing fleets, armed guards with, 279-285
Fleet sweeping, 161
French ship, mysterious disappearance of, 264
GERMAN High Sea Fleet, 249
-- naval position in 1914, 18
-- submarine bases, 127
-- mine-laying, 143
-- raiders, _Wolfe_ and _Moewe_, 145
-- mines, description of, 145, 148
-- -- and Hague Convention, 150-152
-- mine-laying policy, 154-156
-- submarine offensive, 155
-- minesweeping, 169
-- submarines, loss of, 186
-- mine-field, a Christmas spent on, 192-201
Grand Fleet, 233, 255, 286
-- bases, 103
Granton Naval Base, 103
Guarding a mine-field, 201
Gunboats patrol, 53
Gunnery classes, 43-44
HARBOUR duties, 115
-- mines at entrance to, 209-219
-- sweeping, 162
Harwich patrols, 286
_Hermione_, training ship for new navy, 33, 36-49
Hope of action, 202
Hydrophone attack, 134-135
-- branch of naval service, 76
-- flotillas, 134-135
Hydrophones, 70-84
-- object of, 70
-- portable, 71
-- -- use of, 71-72
-- construction of, 72-74
-- limitations in use of, 77-78
-- directional, 75
-- -- use of, 76
-- fitted in U and U-C boats, 76-77
ICELAND fishing fleet, 195, 200
Indian Ocean, mine-fields in, 145
Indicator nets, 85, 89, 138, 258-263
Intelligence offices in naval bases, 108, 129
Interpreter officers, 68
_Invincible_, H.M.S., 255
Isolation of mined areas, 159
JELLICOE, Sir John, 252
KING'S Messengers, 108
LANCE bombs, 91
Life-boat, work of, 222-223
Lighted barrage, 183
Lightning reveals U-boat, 260
_Lion_, H.M.S., after Jutland, 56, 254
Liverpool harbour mined-in, 209
Loss of ships, percentage of, 54, 55
Lowestoft harbour mined-in, 209
_Lusitania_, sinking of, 18
MANNING of British ships in past, 20
Mercantile fleets under convoy, 116
-- Marine, 122
-- shipping in danger zone, 209
Merchant ships, loss of, due to mines, 155
Methods of attacking submarines, 134-142
Mine barrages, 129, 139, 156, 179, 286
Mine-field, Christmas on, 192-200
Mine-fields, deep-laid, 139, 179-186
Mine-layers, 233-236
Mine nets, 39, 138
Mine-protection devices, 175-178
Mined areas, isolation of, 159
Minesweeping, 54, 121, 157, 178, 209, 293-300
Mine-laying from U-C boats, 152-153, 157
Mines destroyed by British Navy, 155, 158, 209
Mines, floating, 150
Mining School, Portsmouth, 163
M.L.'s. See under Motor Launches
Modified sweeps, 96-101
_Moewe_, German raider, 145
Monotony, effect of, 280
Moonlight, effect of on searchlights, 297-298
Moral effect of air raids, 295
Moray Firth, mine-field in, 161
Morning divisions in warships, 41
Motor launch flotillas, 36, 115, 134-136
Motor launches, Admiralty contract for, 57
Motor launches, arrival of, 38
-- construction of, 58-62
-- description of, 56
-- area patrolled by, 61
-- loss of, 62
-- in actions off Zeebrugge and Ostend, 62, 287
Mysteries of sea war, 264-272
-- of submarine hunting, 126-162
-- of German mine-laying, 143-156
-- of minesweeping, 157-178
Mystery ships, 96, 101
-- numbers employed, 96
NATIONAL Insurance, 125
Naval bases, 102-115
-- centres, 129
-- College, Greenwich, 35
-- policy, British, 31
-- School of Submarine Mining, 163
-- situation in 1914, 18
Navigation, dangers of, in war time, 265-266
-- training in, 46-49
Navy, expansion of, in past wars, 28
Nerve tension before action, 261, 288
Nets, submarine, 56, 85-89
New fleets in being, 50-69
New navy, composition of, 50-69
-- formation into flotillas, 68-69
-- growth of, 23
-- officers and men of, 25, 33-34
-- _raison d'etre_, 18
_New Zealand_, H.M.S., 255
New Zealand, officers from, 39
-- waters, mines in, 145
Nieuport pier, destruction of, 292
Night attacks, 258-263
-- patrol, 209, 292
North Sea, area of, 20
-- British naval blockade of, 124
-- gales, 220
Northern mine barrage, 182
OFFICERS, training, 36-49
Oil trails, 218, 263
PARAVANES, 175-177
Patrol areas, 23-24, 128-131
-- boats, 130-133
-- -- on lines of communication during Jutland, 257
Personnel of new navy, 32
Petrol fumes, danger of, 275-276
Picric acid, for causing and alleviating pain, 257
Port minesweeping officers, 111, 163
_Princess Royal_, H.M.S., 255
Privateers, old and new, 117-118
"Q" BOATS, 96-101
-- description of, 96-99
-- number employed, 96
Q19, action of, in Straits of Gibraltar, 99
Queenstown naval base, 103
RAIDERS, German, cruises of, 145
Red Cross work, 248-252
Refits, 226
Rescue work, 220-225, 238, 273-279
Rescued crews, 247
_Resource II._, H.M.S., 36
Restriction of submarine danger zone, 126
Return of fleet from Jutland, 254-256
Rosyth Dockyard, 103
Routine sweeping, 161
Royal Naval Reserve, 37
-- -- Volunteer Reserve, 36
Royal Navy and Merchant Service, 26
-- -- manning of, in past, 26-27
Russian army, transport of, 123
-- lines of communication, 22
-- War of 1854-1856, 26
SALVING live mines, 151-152
Scandinavian convoys, 123-124
-- -- attacks on, 124
Scapa Flow, 103
Scottish waters, mine-fields in, 147
Sea fight, elements of, 255
-- flanks of armies, 286-300
-- power, elements of, 26
-- stalking, 270
Seamanship classes, 41-43
Searching for mines, 162
Shallow-water sweeping, 162
Shell-shock cases, 257
Ships of the new navy, 20-22
Sick bay, shells burst in, 256
Singapore mine-field, 145
Sinking of last U-boat, 99
Sloop flotillas, 52
Smoke screens, 92-93, 290
S.O.S., 238
Sounds, submarine, 70-73
South African mine-fields, 145
_Southampton_, H.M.S., 255
Southampton Water training ground, 38
Spanish Armada, 233
Spectre of the Goodwins, 265
Spotting officers at Zeebrugge, 288-291
Staff Headquarters, 24
Standard ships, 120
_Submarine Engineering of To-day_, 154
Submarine hide-and-seek, 77-78
-- nets, 258-263
-- phase of naval war, 17-20
-- sounds, 70-73
-- _v._ submarine, 140
-- _v._ merchantman, 19
-- warfare of the future, 127
Sutphen, Henry R., 57-58
_Sydney_, H.M.S., 123
TACTICAL methods, 134-135
Task of Allied navies, 18-35
Tenth Cruiser Squadron, 52, 232
Theatre of war, principal, 20
Thornycroft, Messrs John T., & Co. Ltd., 65
Tides, effect of, on moored mines, 149
-- -- on minesweeping, 171
Toast of the British Navy, 48
Tracking U-boats, methods of, 129-131
Training an anti-submarine force, 36-49
Transport of Allied armies, 116
Trawler units, 54, 55, 113
Treachery, guarding against, 270
Tripods (for observation) at Zeebrugge, 280
U-BOATS, fishing for, 87-88, 258-263
-- sunk, 263
-- sunk by Q19, 97-100
U-C boats, 144
United States, effect on German mine-laying, 156
-- help from, 21
-- navy, 69
-- warships attacked, 125
University, a naval, 46-49
Unrecorded sea fights, 204
VERY'S pistols, 246, 276
_Victory_, H.M.S., at Trafalgar, 30
Von Hipper's fleet, 255
WAR base, a typical, 102
-- bases, 23, 102, 115
-- -- description of, 104-115
-- Cabinet and convoys, 125
-- Channel, 160, 172-175
Wardrooms in naval bases, 112
_Warspite_, H.M.S., 254
Waterloo, a replica of, 250
Weapons, curious, 85-95
Weather, effect of, on naval operations, 233
Whaler units, 53-54, 115
William Whiteley's, a naval, 107
Winter patrol, 209
_Wolfe_, German raider, 145
Wounded, transport of, 256-257
YACHT clubs, officers from, 32
Yacht, armed, 53
ZEEBRUGGE, bombardment of, 287-293
Zeppelin attacks fishing fleet, 282, 285
Zeppelin raids, 48-49
Zigzagging to avoid U-boats, 116
Zones of war, drafting to, 50-51
-- vessels leaving for, 187
THE RIVERSIDE PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH
1920
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
On pages 37-51, the original uses "depot." On pages 103 and 104, it uses
"depot." This was retained.
Page 4, number 5 was missing from the list.
Page 63, FIG. 3., "Hydrophone" changed to "Hydroplane" as it seems to
make more sense in this situation (Hydroplane hull, so constructed)
Page 76, "oral" changed to "aural" (aural experience estimated)
Pages 97, 98, 115, 125 twice,138, the designation of the size of the gun
was originally printed using a high-dot. As that cannot be replicated
here, it has been replaced with a decimal. (with a 4.7 quick-firing)
(masked 4.7-inch guns) (shielding the 4.7 gun) (causes was 0.82) (only
0.58 per cent.) (of a 4.7-inch gun)
Page 152, "he" changed to "the" (to the ordinary mine)
Page 185, "bteween" changed to "between" (submarine got between the)
Page 269, "tinging" changed to "tingeing" (tingeing the still
boisterous)
Page 270, "fore-peak" changed to "forepeak" to match rest of text. (The
forepeak or bow)
Page 287, "auti" changed to "anti" (of the anti-submarine fleets)