Title: The Harwich Naval Forces - Their Part in the Great War
Author: Knight, E. F. (Edward Frederick), 1852-1925
Language: English
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THE HARWICH NAVAL FORCES



  THE HARWICH
  NAVAL FORCES

  _Their Part in the Great War_

  BY
  E.F. KNIGHT

  AUTHOR OF "WHERE THREE EMPIRES MEET,"
  "THE CRUISE OF THE 'FALCON,'" "THE 'FALCON' ON THE BALTIC," ETC.



  HODDER AND STOUGHTON
  LONDON, NEW YORK, TORONTO
  MCMXIX



PREFACE


Recent visits that were made to Harwich for the purpose of writing a
series of articles on the Harwich Naval Forces for the _Morning Post_
suggested to me the amplification of these articles and their
reproduction in the form of a little book. This does not profess to be
anything more than a summary of the gallant doings of the Harwich
Forces in the course of the war. The full history, no doubt, will be
written some day. But this, I hope, may serve as a record that will
enable many to realise better what Britain owes to the Navy, and what
a great work was done by the light cruisers, destroyers, submarines,
and auxiliary vessels that had Harwich as their base throughout the
war.

For the purposes of this book I have referred to no official records.
Conversations with those who were eye-witnesses of and participators
in the events that I have here described have served as my sole source
of information.

My thanks are due to the naval officers who so readily assisted me in
my quest while I was in Harwich, and to the _Morning Post_ for the
kind permission which I have received to publish in book form my
articles that appeared in that paper.

                                                           E.F.K.



CONTENTS


_Part I_

THE HARWICH FORCE

CHAPTER I
                                                             PAGE
THE OPENING OF THE WAR                                          5

    The light cruisers and destroyers--Harwich in war
    time--The Harwich Force goes out--The first shots
    of the naval war--Sinking of the _Königin
    Luise_--Loss of the _Amphion_.

CHAPTER II

THE HELIGOLAND BIGHT ACTION                                    23

    The plan--The sweep by the Harwich Force--The
    destroyers in action--_Arethusa's_ duel with the
    _Frauenlob_--Off Heligoland again--Action with
    German light cruisers--The _Mainz_ sunk--End of the
    _Arethusa_.

CHAPTER III

OTHER ACTIONS                                                  45

    The battle of the Dogger Bank--The sinking of the
    _Blücher_--The Lowestoft raid--The action off
    Texel.

CHAPTER IV

THE CONVOYS                                                    55

    The Beef Trip--Escorting mine-layers--Encounters
    with enemy mine-sweepers--Sinking of the
    _Meteor_--The _Centaur_ mined.

CHAPTER V

ESCORTING SEAPLANES                                            73

    The Cuxhaven raid--The Sylt raid--Enemy patrol
    boats sunk--Loss of the _Medusa_--The flagship rams
    an enemy destroyer--Saving of the _Landrail_.

CHAPTER VI

THE PATROLS                                                    97

    Raids on enemy trawler fleets--The unsleeping
    watch--Patrolling the Channel barrage--Patrolling
    the mine-net barrage--The patrols in action.


_Part II_

THE HARWICH SUBMARINE FLOTILLA

CHAPTER VII

COMPOSITION OF THE FLOTILLA                                   113

    The shore establishment--Heavy losses of the
    flotilla--Humorous incidents--Drowning the
    mascot--Bluffing the Huns.

CHAPTER VIII

RECONNAISSANCE AND MINE-LAYING                                127

    The eyes of the Fleet--The _Westphalen_
    torpedoed--Mine-laying submarines--Destruction of U
    boats.

CHAPTER IX

FINE SUBMARINE RECORDS                                        145

    Some narrow escapes--Sinking a Zeppelin--The doings
    of the E9--Sinking of the _Prince Adalbert_--The
    decoy trawler.

CHAPTER X

GERMAN CRIMES                                                 163

    Loss of the E 13--Inhuman Hun methods--Stranding of
    the U.C. 5--German traps--Risky salvage work.


_Part III_

THE HARWICH AUXILIARY PATROL AND MINE-SWEEPING FORCE

CHAPTER XI

THE ROYAL NAVAL TRAWLER RESERVE                               181

    Mine-sweeping trawlers--Captains courageous--Scotch
    drifters--The motor launches--Keeping open the
    swept channels.

CHAPTER XII

WORK OF THE AUXILIARIES                                       207

    Mine-sweeping methods--Indicator nets--Heavy
    losses--Brilliant rescues.

CONCLUSION                                                    231



_Part I_

THE HARWICH FORCE



CHAPTER I

THE OPENING OF THE WAR



CHAPTER I

THE OPENING OF THE WAR

    The light cruisers and destroyers--Harwich in war time--The
      Harwich Force goes out--The first shots of the naval
      war--Sinking of the _Königin Luise_--Loss of the
      _Amphion_.


He who undertakes to write the history of the Naval Forces which had
Harwich as their base during the Great War will have a wonderful story
indeed to tell--from the sinking, within a few days of the declaration
of war, of the German mine-layer _Königin Luise_ by a section of the
force, down to the day when there steamed into Harwich harbour, under
the escort of the Harwich Force, the surrendered submarines of the
beaten enemy. To those who manned our ships during those four
terrible years it must all seem now like some strange dream--the
weary, watchful patrolling through storm or fog, with no lights
showing on sea or shore; the feeling of the way by dead reckoning and
lead in dark wintry weather along the enemy's coasts, with an
ever-vigilant foe above, below, and on the surface of the sea; the
amazing adventures; the risks boldly taken; and ever and anon an
action fought with a fierce determination on both sides.

For the Germans fought bravely and skilfully on occasion during the
first years of the war. One gathers that it was not until the end that
their _moral_ began to weaken. They thought that they could shake the
_moral_ of the British Navy by methods of frightfulness, by the
cold-blooded murder of the survivors of sinking ships, and so forth.
But it was their own _moral_ that failed at last. For this parvenu
German Navy, good though its ships and good its personnel, was lacking
in one essential--the tradition that inspires our own Navy, the
significance of which tradition the German, who knows not chivalry, is
incapable of understanding. A Navy with an old and glorious tradition
could not have surrendered itself, as did the German Navy, without
having come out and made a fight--if hopeless fight--of it, as did the
Spanish ships off Cuba and the Russians at Chemulpo, so saving the
honour of their flag.

It is part of the tradition, too, of the British Navy at all cost to
stand by a friend in distress. It will be remembered that at the
beginning of the war two important ships were torpedoed while
rescuing the crews of sinking consorts, and that this led to the issue
of an Admiralty order to the effect that no heavy ships must risk
valuable material by undertaking this dangerous work, which should be
left to the light craft. The zeal that comes of an old tradition may
need checking at times, but it leads to victory in the end. Had the
_Blücher_ belonged to a Navy with a tradition, it is improbable that
she would have been deserted, as she was, by the Germans after her
disablement.

To any Englishman who, in these days of the armistice, looks across
Harwich harbour and the broad estuary of the Stour, that scene,
composed of grey wintry sky, grey sea, and grey warships at anchor,
will remain to him as a stirring memory. For those are the light
cruisers and destroyers of the Harwich Force, and there, too, is the
Submarine Flotilla--all these have fought in the Great War; some
throughout the war; while others have joined the force later to
replace ships that have been lost in action. On board these ships are
still the crews that fought them. No doubt shortly ships and men will
be dispersed. But at present they remain here in readiness, for it is
not Peace yet. Higher up the Stour, a token of victory, lie the
surrendered German submarines, on account of their dirty condition
more plainly visible through the haze than are our own ships; for the
Huns, naturally, before giving them up, wasted no paint on the outside
of these craft, and certainly no soap within.

What is known as the Harwich Force, towards the end of 1914, was
composed of the light cruisers _Arethusa_, _Fearless_, _Undaunted_,
and _Aurora_, and forty destroyers forming two flotillas. The force
gradually increased its strength of light cruisers, being joined at
various times by the _Penelope_, _Conquest_, _Cleopatra_,
_Canterbury_, _Carysfoot_, and others. Commodore Tyrwhitt--now
Rear-Admiral Sir Reginald Tyrwhitt--commanded the force from the
beginning, his first flagship being the _Arethusa_. He is still in
command of the force, with the _Curaçoa_ as his flagship.

Various were the duties performed by this light force--the patrolling
of the enemy's coasts, keeping the Grand Fleet informed of the enemy's
movements, the perpetual harassing of the enemy, the hunting down of
his submarines and mine-layers, the enticing out of his heavy ships
to fall into our traps, the convoying of merchantmen, and so forth.
The work was extremely important and highly dangerous. Throughout the
war there was always some portion of the Harwich Force upon the seas,
and always a portion of it in harbour under steam, ready to rush out
at a moment's notice should the wireless waves give notice of
something doing on the North Sea. On one occasion practically the
entire Harwich Force got out of harbour within twenty minutes of a
call for its assistance. Even when there was no urgency, no longer
than three hours' notice was ever given.

A force so actively engaged as was this one could not fail to suffer
many casualties--in all probability heavier casualties in proportion
to its numbers than any other naval force. Admiral Lord Jellicoe, on
one occasion, in a message of greeting to the force, said: "Your
casualties alone in this war show what your work has been," or words
to that effect. What the total casualties of the force were I do not
know; but the narratives that have been communicated to me account for
the total loss of over twelve of the destroyers, while the number of
others seriously damaged by shell, mines, and torpedoes is still
larger.

Harwich, possibly, was nearer to the war and its tragedies than any
other port in England. For often, by day or in the quiet night, would
be heard the weird signal of the sirens that summoned officers and men
on leave on shore to hurry back to their ships, as something was
happening on the North Sea that called for the Harwich Force, or a
portion of it, to put to sea at once. This recall signal, say those
who heard it in Harwich, had a most impressive effect. Taking the time
from the flagship, each cruiser in the harbour sounded both her sirens
three times, each blast being of three minutes' duration.

There is an hotel overlooking the water at Dovercourt--one of the few
that had not been requisitioned by the authorities--that was a
well-known rendezvous of officers during the war. Situated about half
way between Harwich pier and Parkeston quay--whither men had to go to
join their ships--and about a quarter of an hour's walk from either
place, it was recognised as being a convenient place of call for naval
officers who were on shore for a few hours in those days of sudden
summons. It had been arranged, too, that the hotel telephone should
always supplement the message of the siren. At this hotel--and, by the
way, what a scene was here when the armistice was announced!--there
were always staying numbers of the relatives and friends of the naval
officers. There was often a gay assemblage here. It was the gaiety of
brave men at the prospect of danger, and of women who concealed their
anxiety for the sake of their men. On one occasion, when the loud
siren's call, dreaded of women, came, a concert for the benefit of
some naval or military fund was just opening in the great hall
belonging to the hotel, and the wives and other ladies related to the
naval officers were selling the programmes. There was no time for
farewells; the officers left the hall and hurried down the unlit,
narrow streets of the old town to the quays as fast as they were
able. But the concert was not interrupted, and, assuming a brave face,
the ladies continued to sell the programmes. As on other occasions, of
the men who left the hall that night there were some who did not come
back.

There are many who were in Harwich during the war who can now read
Byron's stanzas describing the scene at Brussels on the eve of
Waterloo with an understanding mind. This war has shown that the
spirit of the Elizabethan and Nelson days is still with us. One
wonders how the people of ages hence, when, from a long way off, they
look back at these "_old, unhappy, far-off things and battles long
ago_," will think and write of the men and women of this day.

The Harwich Force lost no time in going out to search for the enemy
after the declaration of war. War was declared by Great Britain on
August 4, 1914, and at an early hour of the morning following that
fateful event the people of Harwich thronged the quays and the
seashore to witness the steaming out of the harbour at high speed of
the entire Harwich Force. It was a scene of wild enthusiasm on shore,
and the population loudly cheered the ships that were hurrying off to
fight the enemies of England.

It was at six in the morning of that glorious summer day that the
force left the harbour, and then the ships spread out in accordance
with orders. At 9 a.m. a section of the force, consisting of the light
cruiser _Amphion_ and some destroyers, were near the Galloper, when
Captain Fox, commanding the _Amphion_, hoisted the cheery signal,
"_Good hunting!_" It was a signal that typified the sporting spirit in
which our Navy went to work from the beginning to the end of the war.
Soon the chance came to this flotilla of firing the first shots that
were fired in the naval war.

At 10.30 the _Königin Luise_, a German mail steamer that had been
fitted out as a mine-layer, was sighted. Chased by the destroyers
_Lance_ and _Landrail_, she was brought to action half an hour later.
Then the destroyers _Lark_ and _Linnet_ joined in the chase, and by
midday the other ships had come up. The enemy had evidently been badly
damaged by our fire, for she was steaming away at a considerably
reduced speed. At 12.15 she was in a sinking condition; so her crew
abandoned her and jumped overboard. But her engines had not been
stopped, and she still went on slowly until at last she turned round
on her side and began to settle down. Out of the _Königin Luise's_
complement of one hundred men, forty-three, some of whom were badly
wounded, were picked up by our boats. Of these, twenty were taken into
the _Amphion_.

The mine-layer had evidently been at work on the English coast,
possibly even before the declaration of war; for at 6.35 on the
following morning, August 6, the _Amphion_ struck a mine. There was a
violent explosion under the fore bridge. Every man on the fore
mess-decks was killed, as were eighteen out of the twenty German
prisoners in the ship. Captain Fox and the four officers on the bridge
were stunned and badly burnt on hands and face. The _Amphion_ now
began to settle down by the head, and her sides forward were turning
black as the result of the internal fires. For three or four minutes
she continued to move slowly in a circle before the word could be
given to stop the engines. The men all collected on the quarter-deck.
There was absolutely no sign of panic. The boats were lowered quietly.
The discipline was magnificent. Within a quarter of an hour after the
explosion the boats from the destroyers were alongside the _Amphion_,
and all the survivors were taken off.

After this had been safely effected, the fire that was raging under
the fore mess-decks having reached the magazines, another terrific
explosion occurred in the _Amphion_. This blew away a large portion of
the fore part of the ship, and quantities of wreckage began to fall
over the surrounding sea, causing several casualties in the
destroyers. One shell fell on board the _Lark_, killing two men of the
_Amphion's_ crew and a German prisoner who had just been rescued from
the _Amphion_. Thus this man, who had survived two disasters in the
space of a few hours, now fell a victim to the accident of falling
debris.

It is worthy of mention that one of the destroyers' boats, while
passing through the floating wreckage, came upon an uninjured football
that had come from the _Amphion_. The men were keen on salving it; so
it was picked up and brought on board the destroyer, and it was used
throughout the following football season whenever the ship was in
port. The Hun prisoners, belonging to a race that professes to despise
the British for their love of sport, were given food for thought by
this incident.



CHAPTER II

THE HELIGOLAND BIGHT ACTION



CHAPTER II

THE HELIGOLAND BIGHT ACTION

    The plan--The sweep by the Harwich Force--The destroyers in
      action--_Arethusa's_ duel with the _Frauenlob_--Off
      Heligoland again--Action with German light cruisers--The
      _Mainz_ sunk--End of the _Arethusa_.


The first naval action of the war was that in the Bight of Heligoland.
In this the Harwich Forces played a notable part. The Harwich
submarine flotilla under Commodore Roger Keyes (now Vice-Admiral Sir
Roger Keyes) had a good deal to do with the preparation for the
battle. At the beginning of the war these submarines were sent to
guard the approaches to the English Channel, their object being to
prevent any portion of the German fleet from passing through the
straits and attacking the ships that were conveying our first
Expeditionary Force to France. While thus employed they did valuable
work in observing the movements of the enemy light forces in the North
Sea. Acting on the information supplied by the submarines, the
Commander-in-Chief decided to send the fast ships of the Harwich Force
to make a sweep of the North Sea up to Heligoland and cut off enemy
light craft known to be operating within that area.

August 28 was the day appointed for this raid. The Harwich submarines
were sent out in advance to scout and to attack any enemy ships that
might issue from the German bases to support their light craft. At the
same time, from the Grand Fleet base, a squadron of cruisers was sent
to the westward of Heligoland in order to intercept the German light
craft should the Harwich Force succeed in cutting them out and driving
them to the west. Beatty, with battle cruisers and light cruisers,
went to an appointed position to be in readiness to support the
Harwich Force when the time came. Probably one of the objects of this
expedition was to entice the German capital ships to come out from
their base and fight. If so, the expedition, though quite successful
in its other aims, failed in that respect. For even at this early
stage of the war the enemy refused to accept the challenge of the
British Navy. The fighting took place within thirty miles of the
German base. Within a very short time the enemy could have put an
overwhelming force into action against our ships. But he did not do
so, and allowed his light cruisers and destroyers to be sunk within
hearing of his passive battleships and battle cruisers.

So on the morning of August 28 the Harwich Force, composed of two
light cruisers--the _Arethusa_, Commodore Tyrwhitt's flagship, and the
_Fearless_, commanded by Captain W.F. Blunt--with forty destroyers,
were sweeping round towards Heligoland. This, of course, was very
early in the war, and the _Arethusa_, a brand-new ship, had had no
time to carry out her gun practice and complete other preparations
when she was ordered out. At 4 a.m. the _Arethusa_ and twenty of the
destroyers were within seventy miles of Heligoland, sweeping down
towards the island at twenty knots, the _Fearless_ and the other
twenty destroyers following five miles astern. The weather was fine,
but when it is not rough in the North Sea it is usually misty, and it
was so on this occasion, the visibility being only 5000 yards. Just
before 7 a.m. an enemy destroyer appeared on _Arethusa's_ port bow.
One of our destroyer divisions was ordered to chase her. This, as one
who took part in the action put it, "started the ball." The fog lifted
a bit, and the sun's rays occasionally broke through it. And now out
of the mists ahead loomed several objects which proved to be enemy
destroyers and torpedo-boats. It was evident that the Harwich Force
had run into the patrols that it had been sent to seek out. A very
brisk engagement was now fought between our destroyers and those of
the enemy. In the course of this destroyer action, the 4th Destroyer
Division, composed of the _Liberty_, _Laurel_, _Lysander_, and
_Laertes_, engaged an enemy light cruiser and torpedoed her, but did
not put her out of action. Both _Liberty_ and _Lysander_ were a good
deal knocked about and had numerous casualties, the captain of the
_Liberty_ being among the killed.

A curious incident occurred at the close of this destroyer action.
Another of our destroyer divisions had engaged and sunk an enemy
destroyer. The British destroyer _Defender_ had lowered a boat to save
the survivors, who were struggling in the water. The boat had picked
up several of the men, when a German light cruiser opened fire both
upon our destroyers and upon the boat. The order came to the
_Defender_ and the other destroyers to retire at once, and this they
had to do, leaving the boat behind. To the men in the boat the outlook
was not a cheerful one. Imprisonment in Germany for the duration of
the war seemed their probable fate. But the retirement of the enemy
had by this time commenced, and the German light cruiser which had
been shelling them now steamed away without stopping to pick them up.
At this juncture, while the enemy light cruiser was still in sight,
there popped up close to the boat the periscope of a submarine. The
submarine rose to the surface, and to the delight of our men proved to
be British--the E4, under the command of Captain E.W. Leir. She took
off the British sailors and a few sample Huns, and, not having
accommodation for more, left the other Germans in the boat, having
first provided them with biscuit, water, and a compass.

It was ascertained afterwards that this boat never reached Heligoland,
though that island was but a few miles distant and the weather
remained fine. The probable explanation is that the Germans,
recognising the English build of the boat, concluded that she
contained British sailors, so sank it with gunfire and left the men to
drown, as is the custom of the Huns.

And now to turn back to the flagship and the _Fearless_ and the main
force of destroyers, which were engaging the enemy destroyers and
torpedo-boats. Shortly before 8 a.m. a German light cruiser was
sighted on the _Arethusa's_ port bow. The _Arethusa_ at once attacked
her; but the German was apparently unwilling to continue the fight
and made away to the eastward.

But while the _Arethusa_ was engaging her yet another German light
cruiser, identified as the _Frauenlob_, appeared on the scene, and she
was quite ready for a duel with her opposite number. The _Arethusa_
engaged her closely, the two ships for a while steering on converging
courses. The _Arethusa_ at last closed the range to 3500 yards. The
_Frauenlob's_ fire was remarkably accurate. Within ten minutes the
_Arethusa_ was hit thirty-five times, with a loss of twelve killed,
including the flag lieutenant, who was on the bridge, and twenty
wounded. The _Arethusa_ all the while was pouring in a deadly fire
with her six-inch guns, and the _Frauenlob_ must have been in a sorry
plight. At last a six-inch shell, striking her on her bridge, knocked
her out. For she at once turned and steamed away to the eastward as
fast as she was able. A curious incident occurred in the course of
this duel between the two ships. The _Arethusa's_ cook, who at the
time was in the galley preparing the men's breakfast--for a ship's
domestic arrangements cannot be disturbed by battle--had one of his
arms shot away. He might have bled to death, but, seeing an empty
cigarette tin, promptly clapped it on the stump and so saved his life.

Heligoland, only five miles distant, now became visible, looming large
through the mist. The _Arethusa_ and the destroyers had accomplished
their work, for the enemy light cruisers, destroyers, and
torpedo-boats were all seen to be hurrying home. The Harwich Force,
its object achieved, turned round and steered westward for England,
for with crippled vessels the danger of remaining longer in enemy
waters was, of course, very great. The _Arethusa_ had been severely
knocked about. All her torpedo tubes had been smashed. Her feed tank
had been holed, and the engineer commander reported that he could now
only get twelve knots instead of thirty out of her. The enemy had also
employed shrapnel against her with such effect that her bridge and
upper works were as indented as a nutmeg-grater; and on almost any
part of her decks one could stoop and pick up a handful of shrapnel
fragments, so thick they lay. But in a short time the ship had been
cleared up, disabled guns had been repaired, and the casualties had
been replaced by other men.

About one hour after the Harwich Force had turned and started for
home, the _Arethusa_, limping along, picked up a wireless message from
the destroyer _Lurcher_, attached to the Harwich submarine flotilla,
reporting that she was being pursued by five enemy light cruisers off
Heligoland. On receiving this message Commodore Tyrwhitt immediately
turned back to support the _Lurcher_. The peril of taking such a
course with a crippled flagship needs no explaining, but the old
traditions of the sea make a commander very loth, in any
circumstances, to refrain from going to the aid of a friend in
difficulties. In the course of this war our ships have often thus
hurried to the succour of others in the face of fearful odds.
Over-rashness may have been displayed on occasion. But let us regard
another side of the question. What confidence and spirit it must give
to our men to feel that, if menaced by deadly peril, they can rely
upon their comrades to come to their help if it is humanly possible to
do so! A Navy that has no soul, in which a commander will coldly
calculate the exact risk before deciding whether the game is quite
worth the candle, will never achieve great things.

So the flagship, the _Fearless_, and the two destroyer flotillas,
having turned, steamed back to the eastward for one hour and were once
more within a few miles of Heligoland. They found themselves on a sea
empty of ships; no more wireless messages from the _Lurcher_ reached
the _Arethusa_, and as nothing could be seen or heard of that vessel,
the quest was at last abandoned and the order was given to steam once
more to the westward for home.

The mist now gradually thickened. At about 10 a.m., shortly after the
squadron had turned, a light cruiser was seen coming out of the fog on
the _Arethusa's_ port quarter. For a second or so it was thought that
she was one of our own ships. On being challenged she flashed some
signals. Then a ripple of flame ran along her sides, and she displayed
her true colours by opening fire on the flagship. The light cruiser
_Fearless_ and the destroyers, though they had but few torpedoes left,
attacked her in a most gallant fashion and succeeded in driving her
off. But, doubtless knowing that the _Arethusa_ was in a crippled
condition and that other German ships were coming up, she soon
returned to resume the attack. And now another enemy light cruiser
suddenly loomed on the _Arethusa's_ starboard quarter and joined in
the fight. The British ships were now fighting a retiring action, our
destroyers doing splendid work, zigzagging over the sea and losing no
opportunity of vigorously attacking the enemy, thus covering the
retirement.

But now there came up on our squadron's front yet another enemy light
cruiser, the _Mainz_, to take part in the action. So our ships were
being attacked on all sides, and despite the bravery of the defence
the situation must have appeared somewhat desperate. Our destroyers
attacked the new arrivals, giving them no respite. The _Mainz_ put up
a great fight against the destroyers that were harassing her. Her fire
was accurate; she put two of the destroyers out of action.

At this juncture there came up out of the mist our own 1st Light
Cruiser Squadron, and with its assistance the _Mainz_ was finished off
and sunk. Shortly afterwards our battle cruiser squadron hove in
sight. This brought the enemy's attack on our light force to an end,
and the German ships turned and made for home. But they had fallen
into a trap from which there was no escape. The _Arethusa_, after she
had passed through our light cruiser squadron, came suddenly out of
the fog into blue sky and glorious sunshine. Behind her to the
eastward rose like a wall the dense fog-bank concealing all from view;
but there was heard coming out of the fog-bank the roar of a
tremendous cannonading. It was the roar of the guns of Beatty's ships
which attacked and sank the remaining two German light cruisers.

The fight was over for the ships of the Harwich Force; they slowly
steamed homeward, the _Arethusa_ crawling ever slower, the salt water
getting into her boilers, while such of our destroyers as had been
badly damaged were being towed back. But none of the ships was lost;
they all got safely into harbour. At 7 p.m. the _Arethusa_ was
compelled to stop her engines, and two hours later she was taken in
tow by the _Hogue_ and taken to Chatham, where I happened to be when
she arrived. Looking at her battered condition, one wondered that her
casualties had not been even heavier than they were. I wish that I
could have supplemented this brief description with the narratives of
some of the destroyer captains who had fought their ships so
gallantly. Among other honours given, the D.S.O. was conferred on
Captain W.F. Blunt, the captain of the _Fearless_ light cruiser, in
recognition of his repeated vigorous and dashing attacks on the enemy.

In the course of this action we had not lost a ship, and our ships
that had been damaged were repaired and at sea again within a few
weeks; whereas the enemy had lost three light cruisers and one
destroyer, and withdrew with many ships badly damaged.

As for the _Arethusa_, her repairs were made good at Chatham, and a
month later she was able to rejoin the Harwich Force. She had further
adventures and narrow escapes, but her life, if stirring and most
useful to her country, was a short one, and her end was tragic. In
February 1916, only eighteen months after she had been launched, while
returning from an attempt to intercept an enemy force, she was struck
by a mine off Felixstowe, and her engines were disabled by the
explosion, which killed eleven men in her boiler-room. A south-east
gale was blowing and a high sea was running. Attempts were made to
take her in tow, but the hawsers parted, and she drifted helplessly on
to the Cutler shoal in a sinking condition. Her back was broken, and
she fell in two.

A dreadful incident of this tragedy was the attempt of a stoker,
maddened by pain, to escape from below by climbing up the inside of
the funnel. He was seen appearing over the top of the funnel, and was
helped down. His clothes had all been burnt off; his injuries were
terrible, and he shortly afterwards died. The fate of the stokers
trapped below, when disaster comes in this fashion, is a feature of
naval warfare horrible to contemplate.

One of the _Arethusa's_ stokers, by the way, must have been a very
powerful sleeper. While the ship was breaking up and all the
survivors--so it was supposed--had been taken off, a man appeared on a
portion of the wreck, waving his hand for help. He was rescued, and
proved to be a stoker, who had been sleeping below tranquilly through
the explosion, the wreck, and the breaking up of the ship. It was only
when he was awash and the water was pouring over his face that he woke
to the situation.



CHAPTER III

OTHER ACTIONS



CHAPTER III

OTHER ACTIONS

    The battle of the Dogger Bank--The sinking of the
      _Blücher_--The Lowestoft raid--The action off Texel.


In the actions that were fought in the North Sea whenever the heavy
ships of the enemy came out and encountered our own, the light Harwich
Force played its part in harassing the enemy and in invaluable
reconnaissance. In the battle of the Dogger Bank, January 28, 1915,
its object was to sight the enemy battle cruisers and to put our own
upon them. It will be remembered that on this occasion the German
battle cruisers turned and hurried towards home as soon as they
sighted our ships. The battle therefore resolved itself into a stern
chase on the part of Admiral Beatty's fleet, which gradually gained on
the enemy and closed the range. The enemy's destroyers covering the
German retirement delivered vigorous attacks in order to delay the
pursuit, but were driven back by our destroyers of the Harwich
flotillas. When the German armoured cruiser _Blücher_, which had been
damaged badly by our fire, dropped astern of the German line, the
_Indomitable_ was detached to finish her off, and while thus engaged
was screened by the 1st Destroyer Division of the Harwich force. The
_Arethusa_ gave the _coup de grâce_ to the _Blücher_ with a torpedo
and sank her. The _Arethusa_ and the destroyers were picking up the
survivors of the _Blücher_ when a Taube flew overhead and attacked
the boats with bombs, killing Germans struggling in the water as well
as some of our own men. So the _Arethusa_ recalled the boats.
Otherwise more of the _Blücher's_ crew might have been saved. The
final duty of the Harwich Force on this occasion was to screen the
_Indomitable_ while she towed the disabled _Lion_ back to the Grand
Fleet base in the Firth of Forth.

During the Lowestoft raid of April 25, 1916, while the German battle
cruisers were bombarding our coast, the Harwich Force did good work.
The _Conquest_, flying the Commodore's pennant, the _Cleopatra_, and
sixteen destroyers were sent out to distract the attention of the
enemy and, if possible, torpedo some of his ships. While carrying out
this duty they suffered severely. They sighted four enemy battle
cruisers screened by light cruisers and destroyers. They made a
vigorous attack upon this screening force, and this compelled the
German battle cruisers, which at the time were bombarding Lowestoft,
to cover their own light craft by turning their attention on the
Harwich Force. The latter, now exposed to a heavy fire from the enemy
big ships as well as from the light cruisers and destroyers, had to
turn and retire.

It was while our ships were thus turning, and were, so to speak,
bunched up in the loop formed by the turning operation, that they
suffered severely from the enemy salvoes. The _Conquest_ was hit by
four or five twelve-inch shells, and lost forty-seven of her crew
killed and wounded. Later, the _Penelope_ was torpedoed by an enemy
submarine. The explosion carried away her stern-post and rudder; the
whole after part of her had practically been blown off. But she
managed to steam back to Harwich at twenty-two knots, steering with
her engines. Other ships also were hit. But the Harwich Force, at any
rate, had drawn the fire of the Germans from Lowestoft, and so saved
that town from a heavier bombardment than it received. The Huns, as
was their wont in these raids, carried on the bombardment for half an
hour or so, and then turned and hurried homewards as fast as they
could steam, for they had no desire to encounter the ships from the
Grand Fleet.

In the battle of Jutland the Harwich Force was not called upon to take
a part. However, eight destroyers belonging to the Harwich Force had
been detached to join Admiral Beatty before that action. These took
part in the battle, screening the battle cruisers and delivering
torpedo attacks. One destroyer, the _Turbulent_, was lost. Vessels of
the Harwich Force, lent for the time to Sir Roger Keyes, also took
part in the famous attack on Zeebrugge.

Among the many interesting minor actions fought by sections of the
Harwich Force was that off the island of Texel on October 17, 1914.
The light cruiser _Undaunted_, with the destroyers _Loyal_, _Legion_,
_Lance_, and _Lennox_, while patrolling, sighted four German
torpedo-boats, which turned away and endeavoured to escape when they
realised that the ships approaching them were British. Our destroyers,
which were screening the _Undaunted_, now changed their formation to
single line ahead and gave chase. By 2 p.m. they were within range of
the enemy, and by 3.20 they had sunk all four. First the two leading
destroyers, _Lennox_ and _Lance_, attacked and sank the leading enemy
torpedo-boat. Then the destroyers, cutting in between the enemy ships,
sank them in turn. During the action the _Undaunted_ kept outside
effective torpedo range and engaged the enemy at long range, attacking
whichsoever ship happened to be nearest to her at the time. The enemy
losses were very heavy; only forty-seven men were picked up by our
boats, of whom many afterwards died of their wounds. On this occasion
the enemy fought with great gallantry against a far superior force.



CHAPTER IV

THE CONVOYS



CHAPTER IV

THE CONVOYS

    The Beef Trip--Escorting mine-layers--Encounters with enemy
      mine-sweepers--Sinking of the _Meteor_--The _Centaur_
      mined.


The world is beginning to understand how successful was the British
Navy in circumventing the enemy's submarine campaign, and so
preserving this country from famine, while at the same time so closely
blockading (so soon as our politicians permitted this) the enemy's
coasts that Germany was isolated and her position became desperate.
Our Navy combines brains with bravery, and cunning indeed were some of
the devices planned to outwit and trap the Hun. Of these devices but
little is known outside the Navy, and much probably never will be
known, for there must be secrets well worth the keeping until the
League of Nations or the millennium makes future wars impossible. Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle, in a recently published, prophetic short story,
written before the war, pictures vividly to us an England beaten,
compelled to submit to an ignominious peace, by a very small Power
that makes unrestricted use of submarine warfare. He foresaw the
danger, but thankfully acknowledges in his preface that he did not
foresee the extraordinary ingenuity with which our Navy overcame this
danger.

Among its other functions, the Harwich Force, in a variety of ways,
took an important part in this task of keeping the seas open to
ourselves and closed to our enemies.

Firstly, to deal with that essential duty--the convoying of merchant
vessels. This was part of the routine work of the destroyers of the
Harwich Force. For some time the destroyers of the Force did all the
escorting between Dover and Flamborough Head. They used also to convoy
vessels along our East Coast, across the North Sea, and occasionally
through the Straits down Channel to the westward. For example,
throughout the war they kept open the traffic between England and
Holland. This particular duty was known in the Navy as the "Beef
Trip," owing to the fact that in the first stages of the war the
convoyed vessels were largely employed in the carrying of meat from
Holland to England. It was a dangerous duty; enemy minefields had to
be traversed, and the convoys were liable to be attacked by
submarines, light craft, and seaplanes, for the Germans were ever on
the lookout to intercept them.

The following method was pursued--and be it remembered that no lights
were shown by destroyers or merchantmen. At night the destroyers and
the mine-sweepers would pass through a swept channel off Orfordness to
an appointed rendezvous outside, where they fell in with their convoy,
which sometimes was made up of as many as twenty merchantmen, but more
usually of about twelve. The destroyers now took up a position to
protect the convoy, surrounding it on all sides. The merchantmen were
then formed into a column, three abreast, and proceeded to steam
across the North Sea, a flotilla-leader and a convoy-guide heading
the column, another flotilla-leader following close astern, and the
destroyers on either flank zigzagging about, and ever watchful for the
appearance of an enemy. When the convoy, on the further side of the
North Sea, approached the area that had been mined by the Germans, the
formation was altered. The convoy formed in line ahead, the destroyers
tucking themselves in, so to speak, as close to the line of
merchantmen as possible. In this narrow formation, with the destroyer
mine-sweepers and the converted merchantmen mine-sweepers leading the
way, their paravanes over the stern set at twenty feet to cut adrift
all the mines encountered, the convoy steamed across the deadly enemy
minefield to the comparative safety of the Dutch territorial waters
beyond. Here the merchantmen parted from their escort, and steamed to
the ports for which they were bound. The escorting destroyers then
picked up the westward-bound merchantmen that were awaiting them, and
convoyed them back to the English coast, using the same formations
that had been employed on the outward voyage.

At the beginning of the war the convoys of merchantmen were at times
not punctual in arriving at the rendezvous on the Dutch coast, thus
adding to the risk of discovery by enemy submarines. But before long
the merchant captains understood what was required of them, and all
went smoothly. It is scarcely necessary to say that the route followed
across the North Sea and through the enemy's minefields was ever being
changed, so as to lessen the chance of attack. When the risks
attending these operations are taken into consideration, the
casualties were few among the convoyed merchantmen. In the course of
the war about six of them only were lost on this route. It is strange
that none of the mine-sweepers that led the convoys and exposed
themselves while clearing the way for the others fell victims to the
mines. But, of course, the mine-sweepers that have been recently
employed are of very shallow draught, and pass safely over most of the
mines, especially at high water.

On the other hand, the escorting destroyers suffered heavily; several
were sunk by mines or submarines, while still more were severely
damaged. On one disastrous night in December 1917, three destroyers
were lost while crossing the enemy's minefields with a convoy. First
one destroyer struck a mine and was blown up. A second destroyer
coming up to pick up the crew from the water struck another mine and
also sank. A third destroyer then hurried to the rescue, only to share
the same fate. Out of the three crews, only about one-fourth of the
men were ultimately saved.

In this short summary of the doings of the Harwich Force in the war,
it is not possible to describe a tithe of the heroic deeds performed
by the men of that force, or to mention the names of those who
performed them. But I have received a letter from a member of the crew
of one of these three lost destroyers who signs himself, "A grateful
survivor of that night," from which I propose to quote a few passages,
for it exemplifies the spirit of the British Navy and the just pride
that the "band of brothers" who fought under Tyrwhitt take in the
Harwich Force. I may say that eye-witnesses confirm all that my
correspondent writes. "_Four destroyers were on the scene, SURPRISE,
TORRENT, TORNADO, and RADIANT. The last-named alone returned. The most
gallant rescue-work was performed by the RADIANT, under the command of
Commander Fleetwood Nash, D.S.O., whose cool and skilful handling of
his ship under dangerous conditions was the means of saving so many
lives. Most gallant was the conduct of the sub-lieutenant and the men
who went into the ice-cold water among the struggling and drowning
men, at great risk to themselves, to save lives. Exceptional coolness,
too, was displayed by the engine-room and stokehole branch of the
RADIANT while rescue work was being performed in the dangerous area.
That all survivors volunteered, on their own, to serve in the Harwich
Force, although some of them had been mined or torpedoed two or three
times previously, speaks for the splendid type of men who man the
ships of the Harwich Force._"

The laying of mines and the destruction of one another's minefields
used to keep the Germans and ourselves well occupied, and the scraps
that occurred between craft engaged in these operations were very
frequent. It was one of the regular duties of the Harwich Force to
escort our own mine-layers and to protect our minefields--which
extended across the Bay of Heligoland from Holland to Denmark--against
the interference of enemy mine-sweepers.

The following will serve as an example of the encounters that so often
took place. In August 1917 a section of the Force, which throughout
the night had been supporting our own mine-layers (the latter had
been busy laying mines on our minefield), on the following morning,
while steaming close along the edge of the minefield in somewhat foggy
weather, sighted about eight enemy mine-sweepers, undoing the night's
work and energetically sweeping up our mines. The fire of our
destroyers sank two of the mine-sweepers, and the others, though badly
damaged, were enabled, owing to their light draught, to escape across
the minefield, where our deeper craft could not follow. The
mine-sweepers were escorted by destroyers and submarines, which did
their utmost to torpedo our ships, but failed to accomplish their
purpose. Sometimes, however, the enemy had better luck, as when they
torpedoed the _Mentor_ while she was escorting one of our mine-layers
in the Heligoland Bight. A huge hole was blown right through the
_Mentor_, from one side to the other. Fortunately, the sea was smooth,
and she contrived to return home.

On the other hand, the enemy's mine-layers were ever being hunted down
by the Harwich Force, and the sinkings of them were not few. The first
incident of the war in the North Sea was the sinking of a German
mine-layer off Lowestoft by the light cruiser _Amphion_. The story of
the _Meteor_ is worthy of note. This enemy mine-layer, disguised as an
innocent old tramp, laid a number of mines in the Cromarty Firth.
Having completed her work, she started on her homeward journey, but
attracted the attention and suspicion of the captain of the _Ramsey_,
the armed boarding steamer which lay off Cromarty. So he sent off a
boat to board and question her. On this the _Meteor_ let loose a
torpedo and blew the _Ramsey_ up. The _Meteor_ got away safely, but
her triumph was short-lived. The Harwich Force, which was patrolling
on the Jutland coast, fell in with her, as she was nearing home, off
Horn Reef, early in the afternoon. She was being escorted by two
Zeppelins. As she could not escape from the British patrol, she blew
herself up. On this occasion the Germans seem to have been caught
napping; for at eight o'clock that morning enemy seaplanes had flown
over our patrol and bombed it. The enemy therefore should have
received early information of the approach of a British force, and it
is strange that German ships, of which there were many within call,
did not come out to support the _Meteor_ and attack the patrol.

To our Navy, an enemy on the surface is a welcome sight, for with him
one can fight a fair fight. But the unseen mines of the enemy, lying
in wait to bring about disaster in a second, are another matter. I
imagine that there cannot be a sailor who does not curse the inventor
of mines. It is true that we got our own back on the enemy with our
own mines; but a good many ships of the Harwich Force have suffered
from mines in the course of the war. In a large majority of cases the
ships struck by mines did not sink, were got home, were repaired, and
fought again. Some of our ships, now looking spick and span, with
nothing to show that they have ever suffered, have been mined several
times. The numerous watertight compartments into which a warship is
divided keep her afloat even after terrible injuries.

Thus the _Centaur_, light cruiser, was mined in the Bight of
Heligoland. The mine struck her forward, and so damaged her bows that
her bulkheads would have given way had she attempted to steam ahead,
so she steamed back across the North Sea stern first. The _Centaur_
was mined on yet another occasion, during the great gale of October
1917. The Harwich Force had gone out to look for the enemy--on
information received, as the police would say. A terrific westerly
gale was encountered by the ships on their homeward voyage. All lost
their topmasts, their wireless thus being put out of action. At noon,
while the gale was at its worst, a loud explosion was heard on the
_Centaur_--at that time the flagship of the Harwich Force. She had
been badly mined aft. It must have been an anxious moment, for in such
fearful weather her consorts could not have come to her assistance had
she been totally disabled. One of her two condenser doors had been
broken in by the concussion. Fortunately, the other door held, and she
was enabled to steam home with one engine.

As an example of the way in which a naval ship can be mined and yet be
little the worse for it, may be mentioned the case of a Harwich
destroyer which struck a mine off Orfordness in April 1916. The
explosion blew her stern off and threw her four-inch gun up into the
air. It did not go overboard, but fell back upon her deck. No lives
were lost; no one was even hurt. She got back to port, was repaired,
and very soon was at work again.



CHAPTER V

ESCORTING SEAPLANES



CHAPTER V

ESCORTING SEAPLANES

    The Cuxhaven raid--The Sylt raid--Enemy patrol boats
      sunk--Loss of the _Medusa_--The flagship rams an enemy
      destroyer--Saving of the _Landrail_.


The Harwich Force also took its part in the numerous air raids that
were made from the close of 1914 onwards on the German mainland and
islands. It was perilous work not only for the seaplanes but for the
seaplane-carriers and the ships forming the escort; for, after the
seaplanes had been launched and had flown away on their mission of
destruction, these ships had to repair to an appointed rendezvous off
the German coast, to there await (often for a long time and sometimes
in vain) the return of the seaplanes and pick them up. A description
of a few of these air-raid expeditions will illustrate this.

It will be remembered that British seaplanes bombed Cuxhaven on
Christmas Day, 1914. On Christmas Eve a force consisting of the
flagship _Arethusa_, another light cruiser, a flotilla of destroyers,
and three seaplane-carrying ships, carrying the seaplanes, set out
from Harwich in a northeast gale. It was a very dark night, and on
nearing the further side of the North Sea the ships picked their way
to their destination by the lead, following the line of ten-fathom
soundings. At four in the morning they passed some outpost vessels,
who doubtless detected them and signalled their presence to the enemy,
for a great burst of German wireless was immediately observed. At
dawn, on reaching the appointed position twelve miles to the north of
Heligoland, they found themselves in a flat calm. The seaplanes were
hoisted out, rose from the water at once, and flew off in the
direction of Cuxhaven--probably to the relief of all concerned. For in
the early days of the war our seaplanes were not so reliable as those
which we employed later. They not infrequently refused to rise for a
considerable time, and floundered about on the sea helplessly, causing
a dangerous delay in enemy waters. The flotilla now steamed to an
appointed rendezvous on the west side of Heligoland, and there awaited
the return of the seaplanes. While they were thus waiting, our ships
were attacked by enemy submarines, two Zeppelins, and two seaplanes.

But no enemy surface craft came up, though it was, of course,
expected that the warning given by the outpost vessels would have
brought the German ships out in force. On this occasion all the
seaplanes returned safely and were picked up; and at noon the flotilla
steamed back, with no casualties to report, to Harwich. The fact
remains that the Harwich Force stayed within a radius of twenty miles
from Heligoland from 5 a.m. to 12.30 p.m. without any attempt being
made by the High Sea Fleet to molest it.

But our air-raiding expeditions did not always enjoy this good
fortune. For example, what is known as the Sylt raid was attended with
loss of ships and seaplanes. The objectives of this seaplane attack
were the enemy Zeppelin sheds at Tondern, on the Slesvig mainland. It
was a raid that might have led to great events, as the British and
German battle-cruiser squadrons were both out on the North Sea at the
time, the first to cover the raiding ships, the latter to attack them.
But the great sea battle that might have been fought was not fought
because the Germans so willed it, and retired behind the shelter of
their minefields before Beatty could get at them.

At an early hour of the morning of March 25, 1916, the Harwich Force,
consisting of the light cruisers _Cleopatra_, _Undaunted_, _Penelope_,
and _Conquest_ (_Cleopatra_ flying the Commodore's pennant), a number
of destroyers, and the seaplane-carrier _Vindex_, arrived off the west
coast of Sylt Island. A short time before reaching the spot at which
it was proposed to hoist out the seaplanes, the _Cleopatra_, screened
by half the destroyer force, and leading the _Vindex_, proceeded in
advance, leaving the rest of the force to await her return. When the
selected spot was reached, the track of a torpedo was observed to be
approaching the _Cleopatra_. It was avoided by turning towards and
following its track. The destroyers were now detailed to keep the
German submarine down while _Cleopatra_ and _Vindex_ stopped to hoist
out the five seaplanes. The morning had been bright, but a dense
snowstorm came on shortly after the seaplanes had been hoisted out.
However, the weather cleared for a while, and all the seaplanes had
got away by 5.30 a.m. But further snowstorms that followed made the
flying conditions very difficult, and the seaplanes lost their
bearings while searching for their objective.

The _Cleopatra_, the _Vindex_, and the escorting destroyers now
rejoined the remainder of the force at the appointed rendezvous, and
awaited the return of the seaplanes. At 7 a.m. the first seaplane
returned and was hoisted in, and a little later a second was picked
up--the only two of the five that ever did come back.

As the time appointed for the return of the seaplanes had passed, and
there were no signs of the others, the force proceeded in search of
the three missing ones, the cruisers penetrating the channel inside
the Horn Reef, while the destroyers were ordered to the south-east to
spread out and get in as near as possible to the German coast, so that
they might protect against enemy attack and pick up any damaged
seaplanes that might arrive. The search was fruitless, but it led to
various incidents.

The destroyers steamed in near enough to bombard the coast. Close
under the shore, near the German harbour of List, they engaged enemy
patrol vessels and aircraft. They sank two of the patrol boats (armed
trawlers) and brought down a seaplane. While our boats were picking up
survivors, some of these patrol boats threw out such dense clouds of
smoke to screen themselves that, in the obscurity thereby caused, a
collision took place between two of the British destroyers, the
_Laverock_ ramming the _Medusa_ and holing her badly in the
engine-room. The _Laverock_, despite her injuries, was able to proceed
under her own steam, but the _Medusa_ was wholly disabled.

In the meanwhile, urgent wireless messages from the Admiralty were
received ordering the Commodore to withdraw. To remain longer on the
coast with a crippled ship in tow would be to invite the attack of a
superior enemy force; in fact, it was known that strong forces were
already putting to sea from the German bases; so at 11 a.m. the
Commodore ordered the entire force to withdraw to the westward. The
flotilla-leader _Lightfoot_ took the _Medusa_ in tow.

At the beginning of the homeward voyage the enemy seaplanes circled
round the ships, but were kept off by our high-angle guns. One plucky
German airman, however, despite the shrapnel that was bursting all
round him, made a most determined attack. He dropped about eight bombs
and very nearly hit the _Conquest_. But the ever-increasing strength
of the wind, and the signs of worse weather coming, at last made the
German airmen turn to seek shelter on their own land.

The flotilla soon found itself steaming in the teeth of a strong
south-west gale, violent rain-squalls alternating with snow-blizzards,
and a high sea running. Progress was slow, for the speed of the
flotilla was necessarily limited to that at which their crippled
consort could be towed, and that speed, as the wind ever hardened, was
gradually reduced from ten to only six knots.

At 4 p.m. the flotilla sighted ahead of it, steaming to the southward,
the ships of Sir D. Beatty's squadron of cruisers that had been sent
to support it. The delay caused by the wait for the seaplanes that did
not return and by the crippled state of the _Medusa_ had brought about
a dangerous situation. The mission of the battle cruisers had been to
cruise to the south-west and prevent the enemy from attacking the
Harwich Force while the seaplane raid was in progress, and, at the
conclusion of the raid, to cover the withdrawal of that force, by
following it to the westward at a certain distance astern. Had all
gone well, the battle cruisers should have had the Harwich Force well
to the westward of them by 9 a.m., whereas it was only appearing in
sight towards sundown. It was a serious matter to risk our valuable
battle cruisers in covering the slow retirement, at night, through
enemy waters, of a force retarded by its lame ducks. It was known that
a large number of the enemy's torpedo craft were out to intercept our
forces, and these would find easy targets in our big ships. But it had
to be done, and the battle cruisers covered the passing of the
Harwich Force through the danger zone.

To return to the Harwich Force. Shortly after the battle cruisers had
been sighted, the Commodore altered the course to the north, thus
considerably lessening the chance of our ships getting in touch with
the enemy who were coming out of Wilhelmshaven or some other German
base to the southward.

This alteration of course brought the wind and sea on the _Medusa's_
quarter, causing her to override repeatedly, and so put a great strain
on the towing hawser each time that it tautened out. No hawser could
stand this long, and it promptly parted. Further attempts were made,
but it became obvious that to tow the _Medusa_ home would not be
possible. It was therefore decided to abandon her, and the order was
given to take the crew off her and then to sink her. That this was a
difficult and dangerous operation to carry out with so tremendous a
sea running, and on so dark a night, needs no explanation. But it was
done, and that, too, without the loss of a man, Lieutenant-Commander
Butler, who was in command of the destroyer _Lassoo_, got his ship
alongside the _Medusa_. In order to effect his purpose he had to ram
the _Medusa_ in the forecastle, and to continue steaming ahead so as
to preserve contact with her until he had taken all her crew on board
his own ship. It was a piece of magnificent seamanship, and
Lieutenant-Commander Butler well earned the D.S.O. which was conferred
on him.

So as to minimise the possibility of friend being mistaken for foe in
so dark and stormy a night, with no ships showing lights, the
destroyers were sent on in advance, while the light cruisers proceeded
in line ahead, _Cleopatra_, the flagship, leading; the speed, now that
the _Medusa_ had been abandoned, being increased to fifteen knots. A
northerly course was still steered by the force, but the _Lightfoot_
and _Lassoo_, with the crew of the abandoned _Medusa_, were ordered to
steam direct to Harwich.

Shortly after 10 p.m. a vessel steaming fast was sighted on
_Cleopatra's_ port bow. Captain F.P. Loder Symonds, at that time in
command of the _Cleopatra_, observing that showers of sparks were
coming from this vessel's funnel, showing that she was burning coal
and not oil fuel, rightly assumed that she was an enemy; so he put his
helm hard a-starboard and went full speed ahead to intercept her.
Very soon afterwards two destroyers were distinguished steaming across
the _Cleopatra's_ bow at right angles. Captain Loder Symonds promptly
reversed his helm and steadied his ship to ram. There was about a
boat's length only between the two destroyers. The leading destroyer
just got clear; but the _Cleopatra_ struck the second destroyer full
amidships and practically at right angles. There was heard a violent
explosion, a tremendous noise of escaping steam, and the crash of
rending metal; and then it was seen that the _Cleopatra_ had run right
through the destroyer, cutting her in two. The two halves were seen
drifting past the _Cleopatra_, one half on her port, the other on her
starboard side. The _Cleopatra_ then altered her course to attack the
other destroyer, and both the flagship and the _Undaunted_, which was
the cruiser next astern to her, opened fire; but the enemy escaped,
quickly disappearing in the darkness. The sinking of the German
destroyer through the prompt decision taken by Captain Loder Symonds
is recognised by those who were present as having been a remarkably
fine piece of work on his part.

The rapid turnings of the flagship during her attack on the enemy
destroyers were naturally carried out at considerable risk of
collision with the light cruisers that were following her. The
_Undaunted_, the next in the line, did run into the _Cleopatra_ with
sufficient force to partly cripple herself. So she was ordered to
leave the line and steam to the Tyne.

Early in the following morning it was definitely known that the enemy
battle cruisers had come out; so by 9 a.m. the Harwich Force, in
accordance with orders, had joined our own battle cruiser fleet, and
with it swept to the southward again in the hope of meeting the enemy.
But the German big ships were not to be tempted into giving action,
and withdrew to their base before our ships could get near them.

Accordingly, at 1 p.m. Admiral Beatty's battle cruisers turned to the
north, bound for their base, while the Harwich Force steered directly
for Harwich, which was reached that evening without the occurrence of
any further incident. In the course of the operations we had lost one
destroyer and three seaplanes, but the enemy had lost one destroyer,
two armed patrol boats, and one seaplane. Probably some damage was
also inflicted on the enemy by our seaplanes, for during the raid a
German wireless message from some shore station was intercepted by the
_Cleopatra_, to the effect that a bombardment was in progress.

It will be remembered that a subsequent air raid, which was carried
out by a squadron from the Grand Fleet in the summer of 1918, on the
same Zeppelin sheds at Tondern which were the objectives of the Sylt
raid, was attended with complete success. The sheds were wrecked by
the bombs from our aircraft, and two Zeppelins were destroyed.

As our air raids became more frequent the vigilance of the enemy
submarines increased. Many were the narrow escapes of our escorts.
Thus, in January 1916, the _Arethusa_, with some destroyers, was
escorting the seaplane-carrier _Vindex_ to the mouth of the Ems river.
Just before dawn the vessels stopped in order that the seaplanes
might be hoisted out. The first intimation that enemy submarines were
about was the track of a torpedo racing at the _Arethusa_ through the
darkness. The torpedo passed right under the _Arethusa's_ ram, missing
it by very little. A second torpedo followed, which was avoided by
prompt use of the helm. So the flagship was saved, but only to be
mined and sunk within sight of her base a few weeks later.

Our ships, as I have shown, always stood by a consort in distress, and
brought her safely back to her base if it were possible to do so, even
at the greatest risk to themselves; and there always was a great risk
of envelopment and destruction by a superior force whenever a disabled
ship was being slowly towed through enemy waters. Our crippled ships
of the Harwich Force were never allowed to fall into the enemy's
hands. Many are the stories of the saving of our ships in the North
Sea during the war.

Let us take, for example, the case of the _Landrail_. In May 1915, off
Borkum, while the seaplanes were being hoisted out from the
seaplane-carrier for a raid on the German coast, one of the usual
dense North Sea fogs rolled up. While the ships were shrouded in this,
the light cruiser _Undaunted_ was run into by the destroyer
_Landrail_. The _Landrail's_ bows were smashed in, practically
telescoped. In a photograph taken shortly afterwards she presented an
extraordinary appearance, a large portion of her forward deck hanging
over the wreckage where once had been her stem, like an apron. She
was towed from Borkum to Harwich stern first. During the voyage heavy
weather came on. She parted wire hawser after hawser, until there
could have been few hawsers left on board the ships that were
convoying her. Destroyer after destroyer, the _Mentor_, _Aurora_, and
others, took her in tow in turn as the hawsers parted; and, finally,
the _Arethusa_ brought her in. Fog in war-time is not the least of the
perils in the North Sea, and, considering the nature of the work that
had to be carried on, fog or no fog, it is wonderful that collisions
were not more frequent.



CHAPTER VI

THE PATROLS



CHAPTER VI

THE PATROLS

    Raids on enemy trawler fleets--The unsleeping
      watch--Patrolling the Channel barrage--Patrolling the
      mine-net barrage--The patrols in action.


In their indiscriminate warfare against merchantmen and fishermen the
Germans generally sank our vessels (being unable to carry them into
their own ports across the seas which our Navy so well guarded), often
leaving the crews to drown, and on many occasions disgracing their
flag--which will ever be regarded as a symbol of dishonour among the
nations--by firing at helpless men struggling in the water. When we
captured an enemy merchantman we did not waste valuable material by
sinking her, but brought her as a prize into one of our ports, while
we treated the captured crews even too well. But our captures were not
many after we had swept up such vessels as were upon the seas at the
opening of the war; for, later, our command of the sea confined the
enemy merchantmen within their own ports, and the North Sea was
practically clear of them.

The destroyers of the Harwich Force, however, used to make successful
raids on the enemy trawlers fishing in German waters, generally on the
Jutland coast. It was the practice of our destroyers to spread out on
nearing territorial waters, sweep in and drive the trawlers out, and
then reassemble with their captures at an appointed spot. Prize crews
were then placed on the trawlers, and they were sent to England. In
one raid in 1915 over twenty were thus captured. Those that contrived
to escape under the shore among shallows, where the destroyers could
not follow, were sunk by our gun-fire.

Throughout the war the activities of the Harwich Force were unceasing,
and took a variety of forms. A detachment would go out with the object
of enticing the enemy over our submarines, which were lying below the
surface awaiting them. There were patrols that were watching to
intercept the Zeppelins and other aircraft that were crossing the
North Sea to bomb our undefended cities. Sections of the force were
lent to Dover to patrol off Ostend and Zeebrugge. It was while she was
engaged on this latter duty that the _Cleopatra_ was mined, but
happily not lost. There were continuous patrols along the Dutch coast
and the Frisian Islands to watch for and intercept the German naval
forces that were attempting to make the Belgian ports. On many a
stormy winter's night the destroyers would rush out in the teeth of
the icy spray to attack a foe or assist a friend in difficulty. It was
perpetual vigilance, peril, and sometimes toil almost beyond the
endurance of human flesh. Thus, on one occasion two light cruisers had
no sooner returned with their weary crews from a harassing three days'
patrol, than they were ordered out again to cross the North Sea and
reconnoitre the German High Sea Fleet, which, it was known, was coming
out to manoeuvre off Heligoland. Thus people in England were enabled
to sleep in their beds in confidence; for the unceasing patrols saw
to it that no serious attack could be made on our coasts without ample
warning being given.

At the beginning of the war--as all the world now knows--the number of
our destroyers in the North Sea was wholly insufficient, the enemy
being there far stronger than we were in these indispensable craft.
Consequently it became incumbent upon the destroyers of the Harwich
Force to perform duties which would have provided ample work for twice
their number. After the war had started, of course, the construction
of destroyers was carried on at a feverish speed in our shipyards, and
now there is no lack of them.

But the activities of the Harwich destroyers were extended far beyond
the limits of the North Sea. At the beginning of the war, for
example, a division of destroyers from Harwich had Newport in Wales
for its base, and was constantly employed in patrolling, screening big
ships at sea, fighting submarines, convoying in the Atlantic, and so
forth.

I will give a few details to show the sort of work that was done by
the Harwich Force at the eastern approaches to the Channel. Through
the winter of 1916-1917 there was always a division of the Harwich
Force patrolling the Channel barrage in conjunction with the Dover
Patrol. It was a one-month patrol. There was no leave, no short
notice, and the ships only returned to Harwich for boiler-cleaning.

One important duty of the Harwich Force was to patrol the mine-net
barrage which extended along the Belgian coast, parallel to and at
about ten miles distance from the shore, from Dunkirk to Holland.
There was nearly always one division of the Harwich Force, consisting
of four destroyers, with one or two monitors, patrolling just outside
the barrage by day, within effective range of the German guns on the
shore (their range was 30,000 yards). By night the division used to
patrol and protect the Downs. This patrol, based on Dover, used to
carry on this work for three weeks at a stretch, always at sea, or
ready to get off at a moment's notice. Its function outside the
mine-net barrage was to prevent enemy submarines from passing through
the barrage, and to stop the enemy destroyers from leaving their base.
This channel patrolled by our destroyers was bordered on its south
side by the mine-net barrage and on its north side by our minefields.
On the further side of the minefields our light cruisers and
destroyers patrolled in support.

Our destroyers had frequent scraps with the enemy across the narrow
mine-net barrage. It was while engaged in this work that the Harwich
Patrol co-operated with the Dover Patrol in the bombardment of the
coast. On one occasion, at daylight, the Harwich Force sighted four
German destroyers making for Zeebrugge. The _Centaur_, at that time
Admiral Tyrwhitt's flagship, with other cruisers and destroyers of the
Harwich Force, sank one of the enemy destroyers, the S20, and badly
damaged other destroyers.

In the course of the execution of this duty of ever keeping a watchful
eye on the enemy, the Harwich Force had its full share of fighting.
Thus, on January 22, 1917, a calm, cold, very dark night, three of the
light cruisers were on the lookout to intercept German destroyers that
were known to be making for Zeebrugge. As they were steering in a
south-westerly direction eight enemy destroyers were sighted passing
close under their stern. A general mêlée followed at short range, 1000
yards and less, the cruisers blazing away with their guns, the
destroyers replying with their torpedoes. One who took part in the
action says that the atmospheric conditions helped to make the scene
an extraordinary one. The enemy destroyers, as they rapidly turned
hither and thither in their manoeuvring across the limited space which
the action occupied, had their funnels crowned with a vivid red glow,
and the smoke from them hung like a scarlet canopy over the engaging
ships. The enemy ships must have been badly knocked about, for they
soon retired, enveloped in a dense cloud of smoke. One was sunk in
full view of our ships, and one at least was so damaged that she sank
later. About an hour afterwards British destroyers fought a short
action with the same enemy destroyers. Soon another of the enemy was
seen to be hurrying to the Dutch coast, apparently in a sinking
condition. During this action, so close was the fighting that one
British destroyer and a German T.B.D. were engaged within pistol range
of each other. The German escaped in the darkness, and had to put into
Ymuiden in a terribly damaged condition. In this fight one of our
destroyers, the _Simoon_, was blown up by an enemy shell which
exploded in her fore magazine.

It would take long to tell the whole heroic story of the Harwich Force
during the great war. At Harwich, the people, who are in close touch
with the Navy, and must know many things over which, hitherto, "Dora"
has drawn her discreet veil, speak in terms of the profoundest
admiration, pride, and respect of the officers and men of the light
force which played its part so gallantly in defending the
inviolability of England. Commodore Tyrwhitt--since 1917 Rear-Admiral
Sir Reginald Tyrwhitt--was the right man to lead such men. And how
wonderful have been his experiences throughout this long war! He has
fought in many actions; in his successive flagships he has been
torpedoed and mined--his first flagship, as we have seen, sank under
him; he was ever cruising about enemy waters; he was ever finding
himself in tight corners; and he always contrived to extricate his
squadron from the most difficult situations.



_Part II_

THE HARWICH SUBMARINE FLOTILLA



CHAPTER VII

COMPOSITION OF THE FLOTILLA



CHAPTER VII

COMPOSITION OF THE FLOTILLA

    The shore establishment--Heavy losses of the
      flotilla--Humorous incidents--Drowning the
      mascot--Bluffing the Huns.


The Submarine Flotilla at Harwich, acting as a separate unit and
receiving its orders directly from the Admiralty, though also at times
working in co-operation with the Harwich Force of light cruisers and
destroyers, played a very useful part in the naval war, and was
especially instrumental in making the North Sea too uncomfortable for
German submarines. At the commencement of the war the _Maidstone_ was
the only depot ship of the flotilla, but later she was joined by two
others, the _Pandora_ and the _Forth_, while another ship, the
_Alecto_, was stationed as a branch depot ship at Yarmouth, that port
being somewhat nearer the usual objective of our submarines than
Harwich.

At the opening of the war, Commodore Roger Keyes was in command of the
flotilla. Then Captain Waistell was in command until the end of the
third year of the war. He was succeeded by Captain A.P. Addison, who
is still in command. The average strength of the flotilla was eighteen
submarines, the large majority of them being of the very useful "E"
type. This was the only organised flotilla existing in England at the
opening of the war. It had the advantage, therefore, of taking to
itself all the senior and most experienced submarine officers in the
Navy, a fact that may account for the large percentage of hits made
by the torpedoes of these submarines in the course of the war--a
percentage of which officers and men naturally feel proud. At first
the personnel of the flotilla comprised naval men only; but, later,
numbers of men from the merchant service and artificers from shore
works were absorbed into it. These latter became very keen and
efficient, and are spoken of in terms of high praise by the officers.

It was the practice, when the submarines returned after one or other
of their adventurous voyages, at once to remove the crews from their
confined quarters to the depot ships, in which they lived until the
time came to put to sea again. But as the war progressed the
accommodation afforded by the depot ships became inadequate.
Consequently the _Maidstone_ and other depot ships which had been
moored in the harbour were brought alongside Parkeston quay; while,
facing the quay, on the ground that had been taken over from the Great
Eastern Railway Company (a company, by the way, which co-operated with
the Admiralty in a zealous and patriotic fashion), there rapidly rose
an extensive shore establishment, with store-rooms, workshops,
offices, and comfortable quarters for the submarine crews, who lived
here instead of in the depot ships when their craft were in port.

The arrangements made for the comfort of the men were excellent. A
church, a chapel, recreation rooms, a theatre, a cinema house, and
canteens fronted the quay, and good companies were brought from
London theatres and music-halls to entertain the sailors, while, of
course, provision was also made for outdoor sports and games. There
were, naturally, serious-minded people who considered that some of
these arrangements were of a frivolous character, out of harmony with
the tragedy of war. But those who organised these things knew better.
The strain of submarine work is very great. To occupy the minds of the
men with amusements while they are resting awhile on shore after their
trying duties cannot but help to keep up their _moral_. And that the
_moral_ of the submarine men was wonderful all are agreed. Surely no
other Service on land or sea can supply a greater test of sustained
valour than does this submarine warfare. The conditions of it are
uncanny, calculated to terrify the imagination. As a rule the
submarine is playing a lone hand upon the seas. It is rare, when
disaster comes, for a friendly ship to be near her to bring help or to
carry tidings of her to England. In the great majority of cases, when
one of our submarines has been lost, all that is known of the disaster
is that she does not come home. What has happened to her remains a
secret of the sea never to be revealed. An ordinary patrol for a
submarine of the Harwich Flotilla was of about ten days; a mine-laying
trip, of from three to six days' duration. When the overdue ship did
not return there was suspense for several days, until at last it was
realised that there was no longer room for hope.

In this little flotilla of eighteen submarines, ships that disappeared
had to be replaced by others. For in the course of the war twenty "E"
boats, two "D" boats, and one "L" boat belonging to the flotilla were
lost, and these figures do not include the submarines that were
detached from the Harwich Flotilla to be lost in the Mediterranean and
Baltic. The sailor of to-day has not all the superstitions of his
forefathers, but, like most people, he has some belief in omens.
Certain coincidences made him regard it as very unlucky to sail in a
submarine when a new captain was making his first voyage in her.
Within a short period four submarines that had sailed out of Harwich
under new captains were never heard of again. It was also recognised
that ill luck was likely to attend the first voyage of a newly
launched submarine; but that, so soon as the first voyage had been
safely accomplished, all was well with the ship, which would then be
faced only by the ordinary chances of war.

To turn to an amusing example of the superstition of the sea. In the
course of one cruise a submarine of the Harwich Flotilla had fired
seven torpedoes at various enemy ships without result. The captain
discovered one of his crew kneeling on the deck over a bucket of
sea-water. He was holding under the water and mercilessly wringing an
object against which he was directing a volume of abuse in terms
frankly nautical. Disgusted at the failure of the torpedoes, he was
drowning the ship's mascot, a teddy bear or similar doll, hoping to
change the luck. I wish that I could state that the next torpedo fired
sank a Hun battleship, but I have no record of the sequel.

Even in war there are humorous incidents, and, indeed, there are many
of them. One submarine captain of this flotilla attacked a German
submarine on the surface and gave chase to her with the intention of
torpedoing her. But the Hun had the greater speed; the British
submarine had no gun, and could not get near enough to the receding
foe to use a torpedo. So the captain had to content himself with
signalling insulting messages to the Hun, hoping to taunt him into
fighting; but the shocked Hun dived under the surface and disappeared
in order to avoid the language.

On another occasion a submarine of this flotilla and a German
submarine passed very close to each other in such foul weather that
nothing could be done in the way of fighting, so the two captains
waved their hands cheerily at each other and went their respective
ways. This is the only instance that I can recall of any Hun having
displayed anything remotely resembling a sense of humour in the course
of this war.

Our submarine commanders appear to have been adepts in the art of
successfully bluffing the enemy when the occasion arose. For example,
after one of our air raids on the German coast, a submarine of the
Harwich Flotilla went to the rescue of one of our seaplanes that had
fallen disabled to the water. While she was engaged in sinking the
seaplane and taking off her pilot, a German aircraft came over very
close. The captain of the submarine waved his cap to the enemy airmen,
who concluded that the submarine was a German boat which had brought
down an English seaplane and was capturing her pilot. As soon as the
captain of the submarine had completed his task he dived quickly. The
German must have then realised too late that he was dealing with an
enemy, for as the submarine was moving away beneath the surface there
was felt the shock caused by the bursting of bombs dropped by the Hun
aircraft.

On another occasion, in June 1915, one of the Harwich submarines, on
coming to the surface somewhere near the German coast, found that her
engines were partly disabled. There was a German trawler in sight, and
within range of the submarine's gun. The trawler would certainly have
made a bolt for it, and in all probability would have got safely away,
had she known that the submarine was incapable of giving chase to her.
But the captain of the submarine induced the German to surrender and
compelled him to tow the crippled submarine across the North Sea back
to Harwich, where the trawler and her crew of eight men were handed
over to the authorities.



CHAPTER VIII

RECONNAISSANCE AND MINE-LAYING



CHAPTER VIII

RECONNAISSANCE AND MINE-LAYING

    The eyes of the Fleet--The _Westphalen_
      torpedoed--Mine-laying submarines--Destruction of U boats.


The principal duties of our submarines in the North Sea were
reconnaissance, attack on the enemy's ships, especially on his
submarines, and mine-laying. The Germans were the first to introduce
the system of laying mines with submarines, but we quickly followed
their example and constructed submarines for this purpose. One of our
submarines carries about twenty mines. The weapon of our submarines
is, of course, the torpedo, of which an "E" boat carries ten. Our
submarines, unlike the German, usually carry nothing heavier than the
twelve-pound gun. But towards the end of the war we were constructing
submarines with heavier armament. Our latest "M" boat is armed with a
twelve-inch gun; she was despatched to the Mediterranean, but the
armistice was signed, and prevented her from showing what she could do
in the war.

For reconnaissance work in the North Sea our submarines were
invaluable, for they could patrol close under the enemy shores, seeing
much without being seen themselves, and could do what surface ships
could not do--remain there on the watch for several days at a time if
necessary, for they were able to dive and disappear if detected and in
serious danger. The submarines of the Harwich Flotilla had often to
travel under our own and the enemy minefields. They were ever
patrolling our own great minefields on the east side of the North Sea,
and sending home wireless information as to the movements of the enemy
light forces, and reporting any mine-sweeping operations on the part
of the enemy that seemed to indicate preparations for a sortie. It was
the ambition of every British submarine captain, by giving timely
notice, to bring about what the Huns used to term "The Day," that is,
an action between their somewhat over-shy capital ships and our own.

It was regarded as being of so great importance to obtain the earliest
possible warning of Hun activities in the North Sea that an order was
issued by the Admiralty to the effect that a submarine on lookout
patrol had for her primary duty to come to the surface and send home, by
wireless, information as to _outward_-bound enemy surface craft; while
her secondary duty was to attack. In the case of _homeward_-bound enemy
surface craft, the primary duty was to attack. If there should be any
doubt as to the destination of an enemy surface craft, it was the duty
of the submarine first to report by wireless and then to attack.

I have already shown how, during the critical eight days that saw our
First Expeditionary Force cross the Channel to France, the Harwich
submarines kept a sleepless watch on the German coast, to attack the
enemy ships should they come out to interfere with the transport of
our troops. I have also explained that these submarines had a good
deal to do with the preparation for the action in Heligoland Bight.

It was the E23, too, of this flotilla that, while patrolling, sighted
the German High Sea Fleet on August 19, 1916. She first wirelessed
home the news that the Germans had come out, and then delivered a bold
attack. She torpedoed the battleship _Westphalen_ on the port side.
The result of the explosion gave the battleship a big list, but for a
while she still went on with the battle fleet. As the list increased,
she at last left the line and turned for home, escorted by destroyers.
Thereupon the E23 set out to intercept her, passed through the screen
of enemy destroyers that were zigzagging round the _Westphalen_, and
torpedoed her on the starboard side. The battleship contrived to get
away, but in so damaged a condition that she must have been out of the
war for a considerable time.

The strategical position occupied by the Harwich Flotilla also imposed
upon it another duty of great responsibility. The submarines had to be
ever ready to go south at a moment's notice to cover the eastern
approach to the English Channel against the enemy capital ships,
should these attempt to break through. Had the Germans made the
attempt in earnest, there is no doubt that they would have had to pay
a very heavy toll.

Admiral Sir David Beatty put it well when, in a speech delivered in
Edinburgh, he spoke of our "submarine sentinels who carried out the
same services as the storm-tossed frigates of Cornwallis off Brest."

The only British submarines that were adapted for the laying of mines
were those of the Harwich Flotilla. Consequently, for a considerable
time plenty of arduous, perilous work among the minefields fell to
their lot.

The mine-laying submarines of the Harwich Flotilla were especially
busy on the eastern side of the North Sea, where our great minefields
were. Captains of submarines describe this portion of the sea as an
ideal one for submarine work; for the depth of the water is generally
of from twenty to thirty fathoms, at which depth a submarine can lie
comfortably at the bottom without being subjected to an excessive
pressure. Comfortable is, of course, a relative term. Most people
would never be anything but extremely uncomfortable in the atmosphere
of a submarine after she has been submerged for some hours. A
fresh-air crank would die in it.

The great minefield which was declared by our Government in the summer
of 1917, the preparation of which was a gigantic undertaking, extended
from the Frisian Islands to about latitude 56 degrees north. The
Dutch, for their own purposes, removed their lightships from their
coasts to the western side of this minefield, thus forming a line of
lights running north and south, roughly along the 4th degree of east
longitude. This our sailors facetiously named Piccadilly Circus. It
was the business of the submarines to lay mines on the eastern part of
this minefield, that is, near to the coast. Our surface mine-layers
laid their mines further seaward; while still further west our large
mine-laying ships, one of which can carry as many as three hundred
mines, laid their mines just inside Piccadilly Circus. Our submarines
used to patrol regularly along Piccadilly Circus to look out for and
attack enemy ships, and at intervals went shorewards through the
minefield in order to reconnoitre.

A mine-laying submarine used to adopt the following methods. She would
get close under the enemy coast under cover of the night and then
dive, to remain at the bottom until the morning. As soon as there was
light enough she would rise until her periscope was above the surface,
and ascertain her position by cross bearings of the shore taken
through her periscope. Then she would move to the different positions
at which she had to lay her mines, all the while using her periscope
for the taking of cross bearings. When she had completed her work she
would return home by night, travelling on the surface as before.

The patrolling submarines were bombed constantly by enemy Zeppelins
and seaplanes, but with little effect. To the submarine the mine was
by far the greatest danger, and no doubt the depth charge too
accounted for some of our casualties. But, as I have said, in nearly
all cases when a submarine is lost, no one knows what has happened.
She merely does not come back. The mine-laying of the Harwich
submarines was chiefly directed against the enemy submarines, the
mines being generally laid at about eight feet below the surface, so
as to catch these craft while travelling on the surface. They were
also laid at forty feet or more, so as to strike the submarines when
travelling under water.

The Harwich Flotilla certainly did its full share of the work that
made the North Sea too dangerous for the enemy pirates. Latterly the
German submarines, in their anxiety to reach waters where they could
carry out their operations in conditions of less danger, endeavoured
to escape from the North Sea as quickly as possible, travelling on the
surface. Many of these fell victims to our mines, and, if they dived,
to our depth charges. During the first months of 1918 the British Navy
definitely got the better of the submarine enemy, and so many German
submarines did not return to their base that panic seized the sailors
who manned the "U" boats. We hear strange tales now of submarine crews
that refused to join their ships, and of press-gangs that were sent
to sweep up what men they could find in the brothels and taverns of a
German seaport before the ship could put to sea.

One of the duties of the submarines of the Harwich Flotilla was to
watch for and attack the enemy submarines as they attempted to escape
from the North Sea by one or other of the two swept channels used by
them for this purpose, one channel being carried from Heligoland in a
northwesterly direction, the other one running close under the Frisian
Islands. Ingenious traps were laid for the enemy; they were allowed no
respite. It was in vain that they frequently changed the direction of
their channels. No sooner had they prepared a new channel across the
minefields than our alert submarines discovered it and blocked it with
mines.

Some figures given by Sir Eric Geddes the other day show how effective
was the work done by our submarine mine-layers. During the first six
months of 1918 over a hundred German boats were caught by the mines
laid by our submarines off the German North Sea coast, and in one
month alone the mine barrier across the Channel below Ostend trapped
seventeen German submarines. On the other hand, the Germans also were
very vigilant. Their Zeppelin patrols, especially during last summer,
were efficient, and were successful in discovering the position of the
channels which we had swept across the German minefields.

There can be no doubt that the Zeppelins were of considerable service
to the Germans in the North Sea; not that they did much damage with
the bombs that they dropped--indeed, I have heard of one instance
only of a bomb falling on a ship of the Harwich Force--but for a time
our patrols were persistently followed by these scouting aircraft,
flying overhead out of range of our guns, signalling our movements to
the Huns. To our submarines working on the further side of the North
Sea they were also a source of trouble, for over there the sea is much
clearer than on our side, and a submarine below the surface is, as a
rule, easily to be distinguished by a Zeppelin hovering above it.
Before the end of the war, however, the activities of the Zeppelins
were much reduced by the action of our own aircraft.

The fact remains that, in the long struggle between the German and
British submarines in the North Sea, the work done by the latter was
the most efficient and destructive, and broke the nerve of the enemy
submarine crews, whereas the _moral_ of our men remained unshaken to
the end. The men of the soulless German Navy were brave enough at
first, with the bravery inspired by an ineffable conceit and
arrogance. They had been taught that the German Navy was in every
respect superior to the British--in ships, guns, personnel, and
skilful leadership. It had been impressed upon their submarine crews
that within a few months the unrestricted piracy of the German
submarine would bring England to her knees. Undeceived at last, they
lost heart, and the submarine crews were the first to set the example
of mutiny to the German Navy, the first to refuse to face the enemy
that they had been taught to despise.

Later, the crews of the High Sea Fleet followed the example set by
the submarines. When at last, after long waiting, that fleet was
ordered to put to sea and make a fight of it, the ships' companies
would not obey their officers, and the fleet had to remain in port.
Our Navy had no spectacular victory; there was no knock-out blow; for
the enemy had had enough of it and threw up the sponge.



CHAPTER IX

FINE SUBMARINE RECORDS



CHAPTER IX

FINE SUBMARINE RECORDS

    Some narrow escapes--Sinking a Zeppelin--The doings of the
      E9--Sinking of the _Prince Adalbert_--The decoy trawler.


That the patrolling and mine-laying on the enemy coast was work of a
highly dangerous nature goes without saying. The first of our
mine-laying submarines was launched in 1916 and joined the Harwich
Flotilla. The new experiment was watched with great interest by naval
men, but the history of that ship seemed of evil augury for the future
of these craft. On her first voyage something went wrong, and she
returned to port three days overdue, having caused much anxiety as to
her fate. From her second trip she never returned.

While it is seldom that anything is known of the fate of our lost
submarines, numerous are the records of the narrow escapes from
destruction. It was not at all unusual, for example, when diving off
the German coast, for a submarine to find herself in difficulties
among the shoals. Thus one of the Harwich submarines, when diving
close to the mouth of the Ems river, struck a sandbank with her stem,
and slid up it until her conning-tower was well out of the water. Here
she stuck firmly. At this critical moment two German destroyers were
seen to come out of the Ems and approach her. Efforts were made in
vain to wriggle her off the bank, and it looked much as if she would
be numbered among our submarines that did not come back. But, as luck
would have it, the Germans passed by without perceiving her.
Ultimately, assisted by a rising tide, the submarine was got off the
bank stern first, bumped along the bottom to the safety of deeper
water, and lived to tell the tale and fight another day.

On Christmas Day, 1914, one of our small submarines, the S1, forming
part of the submarine force that was acting in conjunction with the
Harwich Force during the Cuxhaven air raid, found herself in a
perilous position. While diving to the bottom early that morning she
struck an obstacle and knocked off her forward drop-keel. Relieved of
this heavy weight, she shot to the surface. The order was given to
fill her empty tanks with sea-water; but this failed to destroy her
buoyancy, and it was found impossible to bring her below the surface.
To remain with a submarine that refused to sink, so near to the enemy
shore, was to invite disaster; so the only thing possible was done.
The S1 recrossed the North Sea as fast as she was able, and
fortunately reached Harwich without encountering the enemy.

On one occasion E31 came across a disabled Zeppelin--which earlier in
the day had been winged by light cruisers of the Harwich
Force--sitting on the water. The Zeppelin showed fight; she was sunk
by the submarine's gunfire, and the survivors, seven in number, were
taken off as prisoners. During the night, on the homeward voyage, the
submarine was overtaken by a German light cruiser, which opened fire
on her. "Ach, zey com!" triumphantly exclaimed one of the prisoners,
a sulky German officer, who up till then had not uttered a word. The
order had been given to dive, but for some reason this could not be
effected quickly. Delay was dangerous, so the officer of the watch put
the submarine's helm hard over, and she went round in circles,
presenting a difficult target. The German cruiser now proceeded to
steam round in still larger circles. For a while she was so close to
the submarine that she could not get her guns to bear on her. Then she
attempted to ram her, but in vain. Eventually the E31 dived, and, just
before her stern went under, she was struck in the after casing by a
six-inch shell. When she had sunk she released some oil, and the
Germans, seeing this, reported her as lost. But she was not much
damaged, and got home. This throwing out of oil from a diving
submarine was a ruse employed by both sides, and soon the appearance
of a volume of oil upon the surface of the sea was no longer accepted
as proof of a successful hit. But at any rate it left the other side
in doubt as to what had happened.

Several submarines of the Harwich Flotilla have fine records to show.
Take the E9, for example. She was the first of the flotilla to send an
enemy ship to the bottom. Within a few weeks of the declaration of war
she was lying off Heligoland, at times within three miles of it, on
the watch for enemy ships to come out. She was rewarded by seeing the
German light cruiser _Hela_ steaming out of the harbour. She torpedoed
and sank her. Next we hear of the E9 awaiting her prey at the mouth of
the Ems river. Her main object at the time was to report any sortie
of the German heavier ships to our own cruisers, which were then at
sea. Here she caught a German destroyer and torpedoed her. The
destroyer broke in two, one half of her sinking to the bottom, while
the forward half, being air-locked, sank to a certain depth only, and
there remained with the bow sticking up above the surface. Later in
the war the E9 was detached from the Harwich Flotilla for service in
the Baltic, and there her exploits were numerous. She sailed under
sealed orders, and her instructions were to get into the Baltic as
soon as possible. So she did not waste time by stopping to fight on
her way. Thus, when passing through the Sound on a very dark night,
she was nearly run down by a German destroyer. After the two ships
had passed each other the submarine dived, so as to avoid the enemy's
attentions. But the water was shallow and her periscope was still
above the surface when she touched bottom. However, she escaped after
bumping along the sea-floor for four hours before she found herself in
deeper water. In the Baltic she sank two destroyers and torpedoed and
badly damaged a third. She sank two German transports while they were
being escorted by cruisers. Next she torpedoed a large ship, which
looked like a battleship of the _Deutschland_ class, coming out of
Danzig. She was probably supporting the fleet that was then attacking
the Russians. The ship apparently was severely damaged by the torpedo,
and volumes of smoke were seen to be pouring from her. E9 also sank
four German merchantmen which were running iron ore from Sweden to
Germany. The submarine boarded them, put charges in them, and blew
them up. I need not say that no German lives were lost on this
occasion, for the submarine was flying the British flag. Ultimately,
when the Russian revolution broke out, the E9, with other ships, were
blown up by us in the Gulf of Finland, to prevent them from falling
into the hands of the enemy.

E16, of the Harwich Force, also had a fine record. Among other
exploits, she sank a destroyer, she sank a German submarine, she sank
an auxiliary cruiser; and finally she herself was numbered among those
that did not come back. The submarines that were engaged in
mine-laying also had an occasional successful fight with enemy ships.
Thus E34, while returning from a mine-laying expedition, made a clever
attack on an enemy submarine. The two ships were on the surface,
coming towards each other. The British submarine was the first to
sight the other. She dived and fired a torpedo, which struck the
German in the conning-tower. A violent explosion followed, and
afterwards there was nothing to be seen on the water save two objects,
one of which proved to be the German captain, who was saved, and the
other to be one of the crew, who sank.

It is the practice of the submarine to deliver its attack when below
the surface. There are, however, exceptions to this rule, as when the
attack is made on a dark night, when it would be impossible to
distinguish one's target through a periscope. Thus E52, of the
Harwich Flotilla, in November 1917, while co-operating with the Dover
Patrol, sighted an enemy submarine at about one o'clock in the
morning; she attacked the enemy on the surface, and fired two
torpedoes, both of which struck. The German sank, and only one
survivor was picked up.

And now and again it was bigger game that was brought down, as when
E8, of the Harwich Flotilla, at the time detached for service in the
Baltic, struck the German heavy cruiser _Prince Adalbert_ with a
torpedo at eight hundred yards range. The torpedo must have caused an
explosion in the German's magazine, for she was blown to pieces, and
the submarine had to dive to prevent the falling fragments from
injuring her.

Ingenious methods were employed by our submarines to entrap the
enemy's ships, and especially their submarines. The following plan,
for example, was successfully carried out by the Harwich submarines
until the Germans by chance discovered the trick and thenceforth
became more wary. The enticing of the Hun to his destruction was
effected in this manner. A disreputable old fishing vessel was sent
out to potter about the North Sea as if trawling for fish, thus
inviting the attack of the enemy. But the rope that was trailing
ostentatiously over her side was attached to no innocent trawl-beam,
but to one of our submarines, which she used to tow astern of her at a
depth of about sixty feet below the surface of the sea. The trawler
was commanded by a naval officer, and had a crew composed partly of
bluejackets and partly of trawler sailors. These trawler fishermen,
by the way, eager to avenge their murdered brethren, were at first too
zealous, and had to be prevented from uncovering the concealed gun
which the trawler carried, so soon as an enemy was sighted, thus
giving away the game. The trawler used thus to wander about the sea
towing a submarine for about a fortnight at a spell; but the submarine
was relieved by another submarine, always under cover of the night,
every three or four days. The trawler, when she left port and when she
returned to it, went alone, the submarine joining her or leaving her
outside in the night. There was thus little chance of the Hun
receiving information of what was doing.

Whenever an enemy ship, attracted by the bait thus displayed for her
benefit, made for the apparently defenceless trawler with the object
of sinking her, the trawler, by means of the telephone wire which
connected her with the submerged submarine, communicated to the latter
the movements of the enemy. The submarine--which was enabled by a
device to slip the tow-line from within--when the right moment arrived
delivered her attack, and a torpedo, possibly backed up by a round or
two from the trawler's now disclosed gun, finished the enemy off.

I have before me quite a long list--and it is not a complete one--of
the enemy ships that were sunk in action by the Harwich Submarine
Flotilla, including cruisers, torpedo-boats, armed merchantmen, and
submarines, the latter being the most numerous. It is satisfactory to
know that, heavy though were the losses of the flotilla, the losses
that they inflicted on the enemy (in action alone, exclusive of the
terrible effect of the mines which they laid) were considerably
heavier. But the glory of the little flotilla lies not so much in the
material losses which it caused to the enemy as in the four years'
sleepless watch which it kept in the North Sea, in conjunction with
the other units of our Fleet--the watch that closed the oceans to
Germany while holding them open to ourselves and our Allies, the watch
that kept the great German Navy lying paralysed in its harbours, until
the day came when the battleships that had not fired a shot crawled
across the North Sea to surrender themselves ignominiously to our
Admirals.



CHAPTER X

GERMAN CRIMES



CHAPTER X

GERMAN CRIMES

    Loss of the E13--Inhuman Hun methods--Stranding of the U.C.
      5--German traps--Risky salvage work.


I will conclude this section of the book with two stories of
submarines which will serve well to contrast Hun methods of sea
warfare with our own. The first story shows how those who manned the
German warships (one cannot employ the term "sailors" when speaking of
Germans) treated a British crew when it was at their mercy and could
not defend itself. The second story shows how our sailors acted in
similar circumstances.

In the summer of 1915 the submarine E13 was detached from the Harwich
Flotilla and sailed to the Baltic. She went aground off Saltholm, an
island in the Sound, near Copenhagen. A German destroyer came up and
opened fire on her while she thus lay helpless. The captain of the
submarine gave the order that she should be abandoned. This was done.
The Huns then opened a heavy fire with shrapnel and machine-guns on
the British sailors in the water, killing many of them. Shortly none
would have been left alive, and the E13 would have been added to the
list of the submarines that did not come back, their fate unknown, had
it not been for the providential appearance on the scene of a ship
belonging to a nation of real sailors, who have known the chivalry of
the sea from the earliest days. A Danish gunboat came up and placed
herself between the submarine and the German destroyer, thus
compelling the latter to cease firing. The Danes picked up the
survivors, who amounted to about one-half of the crew.

In a letter that appeared in the _Morning Post_, a correspondent gives
some further particulars of this incident:--"The Danish gunboat
compelled the Huns to cease firing on the defenceless crew of this
submarine, stranded in Danish territorial waters. Wanton murder was
added to the grave infringement of Danish territorial rights. Both the
Danish sailors and the gunners on the naval fort overlooking the scene
were burning with indignation, and were joyfully awaiting the order to
open fire on the German vessel, if the latter had not immediately
obeyed the Danish signal to stop these inhuman and illegal
proceedings. And the people of Copenhagen found it extremely difficult
to suppress their natural anger when the funeral of the victims took
place amidst scenes of heartfelt sympathy."

And now for the other story. One day in March 1915, while a section of
the Harwich Submarine Flotilla was outside the harbour, engaged in the
work of training men in the use of the torpedo, the _Firedrake_, one
of the three tender destroyers to the flotilla, sighted an object on
the Shipwash, a long, narrow shoal that lies about ten miles east of
Harwich. The captain of the _Firedrake_, wishing to satisfy himself as
to the nature of this object, steamed nearer to it and discovered that
it was the conning-tower of a submarine, obviously of a German
submarine, as none of our own submarines was in the vicinity. The
German was aground on the shoal and at the mercy of the British. As
the _Firedrake_ approached her, the German crew were seen to be
standing on her upper deck, which was awash, and holding up their
hands. When the destroyer got still nearer, the Germans jumped into
the water and were soon picked up by the destroyer's boats, which had
been lowered for the purpose. It was thought that all the men had been
brought on board the _Firedrake_, when a man was observed to hurry up
to the submarine's deck from below. He shouted and waved his hands
frantically, and then jumped overboard. He was picked up and brought
off, but volunteered no information as to what he had been doing
before he had left his ship. This was soon made clear, however, for
several explosions now followed each other on the stranded submarine,
and bits of bedding and other articles and volumes of brown smoke were
seen to be pouring out of her conning-tower.

It was a dirty trick to play after a surrender. Had the explosions
occurred a few minutes later, we should probably have lost some of our
own men, as boats were about to put off to the submarine with a
boarding party. If the case had been reversed, and the crew of a
British stranded ship had done this thing, the Germans would
undoubtedly have shot them, had there been any left to shoot; for
probably shell and machine-gun fire would have been playing upon our
men both before they had abandoned the ship and afterwards while they
were in the water--as witness the E13. The German prisoners taken from
the submarine, however, were treated by the British in a humane
fashion.

And yet, as it turned out, the treacherous Hun had yet another and
more dangerous trap arranged for us. Time having been allowed for any
possible further explosions on the enemy boat, Torpedo-Lieutenant
Paterson and two other officers went off to her, in order to ascertain
her condition. They found that the examination could be more easily
carried out at low water. So two hours later, when the tide had
fallen, they again visited the ship. She proved to be a submarine
mine-layer, the U.C. 5, full of mines. She had been badly holed by the
explosions, and the water was surging about inside of her. The
Admiralty were very anxious to salvage her, for she was the first
German submarine that had fallen into our hands, and she would afford
us the opportunity of learning whatever secrets a German "U" boat
might contain. But it was obvious that it would be impossible to tow
her into harbour without proper salvage plant. As it turned out, the
salving of her proved a long job, occupying twenty-seven days of
anxious and arduous work. A salvage officer and divers were got from
the port to do the preliminary work and get all ready before the
arrival on the scene of Commodore Young, R.N.R., and the heavy salvage
plant. The mines in the submarine, of course, presented a serious
danger, and Lieutenant Paterson was told off as mine adviser to the
salvage people. First, exercising due caution, he made a careful
examination of the wreck, which resulted in the discovery of what
appears to have been the other Hun trap. He found that two of the
mines had been loosed and were projecting through the bottom of the
mine-tubes. Had attempts been made to raise the submarine, the mines
would have fallen out, and their explosion would probably have
annihilated the submarine, the salvage ships, and those engaged in the
salvage work.

Lieutenant Paterson reported what he had discovered, and ordered all
salvage operations to be suspended until these mines had been made
safe. That this had been a deliberately planned trap on the part of
the Hun is indicated by the following incident. Lieutenant Paterson
was told that one of the prisoners taken from the U.C. 5, who was at
that time confined in the _Pandora_ depot ship, had asked if he could
see a British officer, as he had a statement to make. So Paterson
went to see him. The man then said that he had been very well treated
by his captors, and that in recognition of this he wished to warn the
English against making any attempt to salve the submarine, as a trap
had been laid to blow up those who should undertake this task.

Lieutenant Paterson now proceeded to deal with the mines in the
submarine; he had with him an expert and daring naval diver--the
former was awarded a D.S.C. and the latter a Conspicuous Gallantry
Medal and a gratuity, in recognition of their services on this
occasion. It was highly risky work, calling for much dexterity and
ingenuity. It was found that the two projecting mines could not be
drawn back into the tubes, so they were secured where they were with
wire in such a way that they could not fall out; though, of course,
there still remained the possibility of their being exploded by the
ship's bumping on the sand. The upper mines were then rendered
innocuous by the removal of the acid tubes from the horns and other
precautions, but it was impossible to do this with the lower mines, so
they remained active.

Then the salvage work commenced--a heavy business now, for the U.C. 5
was daily sinking deeper into the quicksands of the Shipwash. The
naval salvage plant at Harwich proved too light to move her. At last
she was lashed to a lighter with 6-½-inch wire, which was passed round
her in four parts. As the tide rose the lighter lifted the wreck a
little way, and then the wires broke, and back the submarine fell to
the sea-bottom, at imminent risk of exploding the two projecting
mines. Finally, Commodore Young, R.N.R., the salvage expert under whom
the Admiralty Salvage Department has been placed, succeeded, with his
heavy salvage plant, in raising her. He employed 9-inch wire and a
large lighter capable of lifting 500 tons. The wreck was secured to
the lighter's side at low water. The lighter's near tanks were then
emptied, and her outer tanks were filled with water, which thus acted
as a counterweight. This time the U.C. 5 was raised and got off
safely. She was towed into Harwich harbour and placed in the floating
dock--a delicate operation, as the measurements were close, the dock
being only just large enough to receive her, and the two live mines
were still projecting from her. But happily no accident occurred. All
the mines were removed. She was patched up and sent to the Thames,
where, it will be remembered, she was exhibited to the public and
aroused much interest.

It was no small part in the naval war in the North Sea that was played
by the light cruisers and destroyers of the Harwich Force and the
Harwich Submarine Flotilla. Their province it was to haunt the enemy's
coasts for four years in all seasons and weathers, and harass the Hun
in his own waters. It is a story of daring strategy, ingenious
devices, constant stubborn attack, and as stubborn defence. The facts
speak for themselves.



_Part III_

THE HARWICH AUXILIARY PATROL AND MINE-SWEEPING FORCE



CHAPTER XI

THE ROYAL NAVAL TRAWLER RESERVE



CHAPTER XI

THE ROYAL NAVAL TRAWLER RESERVE

    Mine-sweeping trawlers--Captains courageous--Scotch
      drifters--The motor launches--Keeping open the swept
      channels.


Having in previous chapters dealt with some of the gallant doings in
the war of the Harwich Force of light cruisers and destroyers and the
Harwich Submarine Flotilla, I will now turn to a third force which had
Harwich as its base--the Harwich Auxiliary Patrol and Mine-sweeping
Force, whose most valuable and most dangerous work it was throughout
the war to clear the sea routes of the enemy's mines over a large and
very vulnerable portion of the North Sea, and, incidentally, to
attack and destroy the enemy's mine-laying submarines whenever
possible, thus keeping open and comparatively safe the channels used
by the Harwich Force and those frequented by our merchant shipping.

A few years before the war the Admiralty had the foresight to found
what may now be regarded as the nucleus of the vast mine-sweeping
organisation that has been developed since 1914. When war broke out
this nucleus contained a personnel of about a thousand officers and
men, belonging to the Royal Naval Trawler Reserve, who used to undergo
a short training each year in mine-sweeping, as it was then known; for
great indeed has been the progress made since in this by no means
simple science. These men were quite apart from the active service
ratings of Fleet Sweeping Flotillas. It was realised how utterly
inadequate was so small a force for the gigantic task that lay before
it, so the Admiralty at once took steps to place the R.N.T.R. on a war
footing. Able officers were set to work to organise the undertaking,
suitable vessels were acquired, crews were enrolled, and the force
expanded rapidly until at last it included approximately 750 sweeping
vessels, all manned from the Trawler Reserve, the total of which was
38,000 at the conclusion of the armistice. The magnitude of the work
carried out may be gathered from the fact that during hostilities
about 2000 square miles of sea were swept daily for mines in our home
waters alone, while nearly 10,000 enemy mines were swept up and
destroyed.

The Harwich Branch of this force--the one with which I am here
dealing--from the outbreak of war has been commanded by two successive
Commanders under the Rear-Admiral of the base. Both these Commanders
have been promoted to captains for good service during the war, while
one has received the D.S.O., and the other the D.S.O. and bar.

This auxiliary unit during the war was composed of something under one
hundred mine-sweeping trawlers, patrol trawlers, and mine-net
drifters, with a complement of about fifteen hundred men. In the year
1916 it became apparent that the mine-sweeping force was not strong
enough to cope with the large number of enemy mines laid in the area.
Consequently the patrol trawlers were converted into mine-sweeping
trawlers.

The vessels employed in mine-sweeping on our coasts are of various
types. I will not touch on the Fleet Sweepers, the twin-screw ships,
the gunboats, and other craft, attached to the Fleet, whose duty it is
to search the approaches to the Fleet bases in advance of the Fleet,
but will confine myself to a description of the work performed by the
hired paddle steamers, trawlers, drifters, and motor launches that
constitute the auxiliary force at the Harwich base.

First to speak of those sturdy little craft, the steam trawlers--as
fine sea-boats as you will find the world over. They are of various
sizes, the largest being of about 350 tons displacement. Their
weatherly qualities make them excellent mine-sweepers; the powerful
winches with which in time of peace they used to hoist in their
trawl-beams enable them to deal efficiently with a mine-sweeping wire.
Their draught, of from fourteen to sixteen feet, is certainly somewhat
against them in their war work, but gives them a good hold of the
water; and as these boats are somewhat down by the stern, their
propellers are so deep that they never race in the heaviest weather. A
certain proportion of them carry wireless. At the beginning of the war
each trawler was armed with a three-pounder gun, which could pierce
and sink a German submarine of the earlier type. Now the trawlers and
drifters carry six-pounders, and in some instances twelve-pounders.

The writer was wont to go out to the Dogger Bank with the Hull
trawlers long ago, when these were all sailing craft, well-found
ketches, no steam being used save for the donkey engine, whose
function it was to haul in the trawl-beam; the crew of each vessel
consisting of five hands, including the small boy and the child cook.
To him, as to all those who knew our North Sea trawlers in the pre-war
days, the change that has been effected in the personnel of these
vessels by war conditions is amazing. Yet these are the same men, the
same rough, hard-bitten fishermen, as fine sailors as use the seas. As
I knew them, many of the trawler skippers could not read or write, but
they knew their North Sea. Charts they despised; with compass and lead
alone they found their way unerringly even to the coasts of Iceland;
for they carried a mental chart in their memories, and had an intimate
knowledge of the soundings of all these waters. They could smell their
way across the North Sea in the thickest weather, so to speak.

These men, who have been fishermen from infancy and have faced danger
throughout their lives, brought up in the roughest of schools, now
belong to the R.N.T.R., the Royal Naval Trawler Reserve, and man the
mine-sweeping trawlers. Some of them might appear rude in speech and
manners to residents of garden cities, but to those who know them
these are true men led by "captains courageous," and they call for the
admiration and respect of all Englishmen for the way in which they
have carried out their perilous duties throughout the war. The
mine-sweeping trawler carries a crew of about fifteen men. One
scarcely recognises in them the whilom fishermen. The skipper of a
craft that used to form part of a fishing fleet now has warrant rank
and is smart in naval uniform. The men, too, wear the badges of a
distinguished service. The discipline enforced in a mine-sweeping
trawler now comes nearly up to the standard of the Grand Fleet ships.
Skippers and men mostly come from the fishing ports of the North
Sea--Hull, Yarmouth, and the others; Harwich itself, of course, is not
a fishing centre. The mine-sweeping trawlers are organised in
divisions of from four to seven vessels, each division being under the
command of an R.N.R. lieutenant.

What I have said of the trawler skippers and crews also applies to
those who man the North Sea drifters, which were taken from the
fishing grounds to do their work among the minefields. These drifters
are for the most part manned by hardy Scotch fishermen, who, like the
East Coast trawler men, took to their new work as a duck takes to
water. These drifters are of lighter draught than the trawlers, and so
can be employed in shallower waters. They proved of great service, not
only in mine-sweeping, but also for laying mine nets and for carrying
out exploratory sweeps. They also took part in the hydrophone patrols,
when several of these craft used to drift noiselessly, listening by
means of their hydrophones for the sound of enemy submarines
travelling below the surface. When a submarine was heard to approach,
working in combination, they used to ascertain its position by taking
cross bearings of the directions of the sound as given by their
respective hydrophones, and gradually closed in on it. When the
position of the submarine was definitely located, an attendant vessel
was signalled to, which did its best to drop depth charges on the
submarine, or, if it came to the surface, attacked it with gunfire.
But it was, of course, possible for the enemy, who also carried his
hydrophones, to slip away; and to successfully trap him by the above
device was an event of rare occurrence. Like the trawlers, the
drifters carry guns and depth charges.

The trawlers and drifters manned by the men who used to fish with
these vessels before the war compose the greater portion of the
Harwich auxiliary force. Shortly after the opening of the war the
Admiralty took over a number of ordinary paddle passenger steamers for
the purpose of mine-sweeping, of which several belong to the Harwich
mine-sweeping unit. These are commanded by R.N.R. captains; carry
six-pounder or twelve-pounder guns, and depth charges. Being of
relatively high speed--some of them attaining a sweeping speed of ten
knots--they can cover a good deal of ground, and being of shallow
draught they are well adapted for mine-sweeping in the Harwich area.
For the tidal range in this portion of the North Sea is about eleven
feet; consequently the paddle steamer, drawing considerably less than
eleven feet, is enabled at high water to engage in sweeping without
incurring much risk of striking a German mine, provided that the area
has been searched at low water and no mines are visible on the
surface. These paddle steamers, which in time of peace had carried
thousands of pleasure-seekers on summer holidays, at once proved very
successful in the work of war. In the year 1917 alone they destroyed
approximately four hundred enemy mines in the immediate approaches to
Harwich. On several occasions the vessels of this section had narrow
escapes; one was twice mined, and one sank in fifty seconds after
striking a mine.

And lastly we come to that interesting class in this heterogeneous
force--the motor launches--the compact M.L. boats and other power
boats of various types, most of which were privately owned pleasure
craft before the war. Handy, rapid, of light draught, these have
proved of great service, especially in enclosed and shallow waters.
They are employed for patrol work, also for mine-sweeping, but are not
powerful enough for this latter work, except under certain conditions.
The duty for which they are very well adapted is the exploration of
enemy minefields at low water, and the sinking of such moored mines as
appear above the surface, as is not infrequently the case in
consequence of the inaccurate laying of the mines. The German mines, I
may mention, were mostly laid at eight feet below the sea-level at low
water.

The motor launches are commanded by R.N.V.R. officers, for the most
part yachting men, among them being barristers, solicitors,
stockbrokers, and other professional men. They have proved that our
amateur sailors who used to handle their own craft in peace-time know
their work, can quickly adapt themselves to war conditions, and are of
the greatest service to their country in time of war. They were ever
ready at the call of duty to push out into the North Sea when the
weather conditions were such as would have prevented any sane man
from venturing forth in time of peace with craft so small. Like the
gentlemen adventurers of old, they were out for high adventure, and
they found it.

The mine-sweeping on the enemy minefields was, of course, the
principal function of the Harwich auxiliary base. The mined areas that
had to be dealt with by this force extended from the south of
Lowestoft to the Naze and twenty miles to seawards, while the
mine-sweepers of the force were also employed in advance of the
Harwich Force on the mined areas on the further side of the North Sea.
The Huns had diligently laid their mines in extraordinary numbers in
the Harwich area. The German mine-laying submarines did their utmost
to block the approaches to Harwich. Captured German mine charts
testify to the magnitude of their operations. The Harwich auxiliary
force had, therefore, to keep open a swept channel running along the
coast, and also several other channels opening from this coast channel
eastward, across the minefields, to the swept War-Channel beyond,
which served as the highway for merchantmen and other vessels passing
up and down the North Sea. It was also part of the duty of the Harwich
boats to sweep the War-Channel so far as this channel passes along the
Harwich area.

Throughout the war the mine-laying work of the Huns was continuous;
that is, so fast as we cleared a channel of their mines, more were
laid by their ever-busy submarines. Consequently the work of our
mine-sweepers had also to be continuous. The Harwich mine-sweepers'
duty was to sweep the above-mentioned channels each day. As light was
needed to see and sink the mines after they had been cut adrift, the
mine-sweepers used to begin their work at daylight, whatever the
conditions of tide or weather, and until they had completed their task
no shipping was permitted to proceed up the channels. The risk at low
water to the mine-sweepers was therefore very great, and heavy were
their losses. They could not await the comparative security of high
water, and the preparatory exploratory work of the shallow-draught
craft at low water could only be carried out when low water happened
to occur at a very early hour, and even then the time available for
exploration was very limited. Since the armistice, the mine-sweeping
is conducted in far safer conditions. No unnecessary risks are taken;
the preliminary exploration at low water can be done thoroughly, and
the mine-sweepers can do their part at high water.

For an officer in charge of the War-Channel sweepers the
responsibility was very great, and often he had to come to a quick
decision when two or more possible courses of action were open to him
and it was not easy to foresee which would be the right course, while
to take the wrong one would probably mean horrible disaster. I will
now give an example of such a situation. In the first place, let it be
borne in mind that the conveyance by sea of our foodstuffs, munitions
of war, and men was a matter of vital importance to England, and that
delays in transportation had to be reduced to a minimum. The Germans,
knowing this, for a long time directed all their mine-laying energy to
that great highway of shipping, the swept War-Channel extending from
the Sunk to the Shipwash light-vessels--the channel the daily sweeping
of which was the charge of the Harwich mine-sweepers. Very often,
owing to the tides being quite unsuitable for sweepers, the choice had
to be made between two evils--stopping all traffic, or risking the
sweepers and convoying the traffic through the danger zone.

Now, on the occasion to which I am referring the War-Channel sweepers
commenced their work at daylight near the Sunk light-vessel, and
sweeping northwards found themselves at 8 a.m., it being dead low
water, in the middle of a dangerous freshly laid minefield about half
way between the Sunk and the Shipwash lightships, and close to the
line of buoys. As some of the mines were showing on the surface, and
the others must necessarily have been close underneath, the order was
given to stop all traffic. Unfortunately the traffic, and particularly
the south-bound portion of it, was very heavy that day, and before all
the vessels could be stopped and anchored many of them were in close
proximity to the minefield. All, however, were safely anchored, and
two hours later, when the flood tide was making, light-draught
steamers were set to sweep the area. The job was a difficult one, for
the sweepers had to twist and turn among the anchored vessels, and in
two cases mines were swept up within fifty feet of these.

In these circumstances it became apparent that the area could not be
properly cleared while the merchant vessels lay there at anchor, and
some further action was necessary. The officer in charge was faced by
a very difficult problem--either he had to keep the whole fleet held
up indefinitely, or take the risk of losing one or two of them. In the
words of one who told me this story, "If the officer in charge delayed
the traffic the powers that be would damn him, and if he lost any of
the ships he would be twice damned." So the officer in charge relied
upon his lucky star to preserve him from both calamities. Choosing the
most favourable time of tide, he ordered all vessels to weigh anchor
and steam out of the minefield on a course at right angles to it.
Happily all the ships got under weigh safely; the sweepers carried on
and swept up eight mines on the ground where the merchantmen had been
anchored, thus proving how dangerous had been the situation; and very
soon after there were sixty-five vessels in sight steaming north and
south along the line of buoys that mark the channel. As my informant
said to me, "If anyone spoke of this incident to the officer who gave
the order, he would probably shrug his shoulders and say, 'I was
lucky'; but he, and he alone, knows what that dreadful hour of anxiety
meant to him."

Despite all precautions, many merchant vessels were mined in the
War-Channel in the course of the war; but these disasters were largely
due to the carelessness of shipmasters, who at times neglected to
comply with the instructions that had been given to them. How well the
Harwich auxiliary vessels carried out their work, and how heavy that
work was, the following figures show. In the year 1917, the total
number of enemy mines swept up and destroyed by the mine-sweepers of
the thirty-three bases of the British Isles amounted to 3400, of which
over 1000 stand to the credit of the Harwich base. It is a notable
fact, too, that in the same year 500 mines were destroyed
consecutively in this area without the loss of a single merchantman,
whereas the average for the United Kingdom had been one merchantman
lost to thirteen mines destroyed.



CHAPTER XII

WORK OF THE AUXILIARIES



CHAPTER XII

WORK OF THE AUXILIARIES

    Mine-sweeping methods--Indicator nets--Heavy
      losses--Brilliant rescues.


Without going into technical details, I will now give a brief
explanation of the usual methods employed by the mine-sweeping
trawlers of the Harwich base. Two trawlers steaming abreast at about
four hundred yards distance apart tow a sweep wire eight hundred yards
in length, an end of which is attached to each trawler. The wire thus
drags astern in a great loop, which is kept at the requisite
depth--that is, at a depth well exceeding the draught of the deepest
ship which would travel across that area--by kites. This sweep wire
is serrated, so that when towing it quickly saws through the moorings
of the mines, which are thus released and rise to the surface. When
two or more pairs of trawlers are sweeping in unison they adopt what
may be termed an échelon formation. The second pair of mine-sweepers
follows the first pair, at a safe distance astern, on a parallel
course, but on an alignment that causes the space swept by the
following pair of vessels to somewhat overlap that swept by the
leading pair, so that no unswept space is left between the two. If a
third pair of vessels follows, it takes up a similar position astern
of the second pair; and so on, if there be other pairs engaged in the
sweep. When a strong cross tide is running, to carry out this
operation accurately is no easy task. But the skilled North Sea
fishermen who man the trawlers are the right men for this sort of
work. They rapidly acquire all the tricks of sweeping, and soon learn
to detect a mine that has been caught in the sweep by the singing of
the sweep wire, the feel of it, and other delicate signs. The
mine-sweeping trawlers are accompanied by a vessel whose duty it is to
sink or explode by rifle fire the released mines as they appear on the
surface.

The above explanation of mine-sweeping, of course, deals with very
elementary matter. For during the war this science has made immense
progress, and volumes could be written on it. Many are the ingenious
contrivances that have been introduced to improve the efficiency of
the sweep. In fact, in all our operations, offensive and defensive,
below the surface of the sea weird new inventions play an important
part. Take, for example, that grimly humorous invention the indicator
net, to lay which was one of the duties of the drifters of the Harwich
Force. In its early form this was a fine wire net, which, when run
into by a submarine travelling below the surface, was dragged from its
moorings and remained attached to the enemy, accompanying him
whithersoever he went, not impeding his progress, and possibly
unnoticed by him, but dooming him to destruction. For attached to this
net by a long line was a buoy containing a torch which was lighted
automatically when the strain of the tow came on the buoy. So the
unconscious enemy travelled on underneath, announcing his presence by
the flaming torch which accompanied him overhead, thus enabling the
watchful British patrol boats to close in on him and effect his
destruction with depth charges. The above is an ideal case, for in
practice the operation was by no means always so simple or so
successful. But that early type of indicator net has been superseded
by a much more deadly invention.

A great deal of useful work was done by the Harwich drifters in
evolving the best method of working the indicator net, and their
system was eventually adopted as standard by the Admiralty. Great
perfection was attained in this work. Thus, on one occasion in 1917
some Harwich drifters sailed to a certain destination in the North
Sea, and after a week's work in laying and watching their nets
destroyed three "U" boats. The crews received a reward of £3000 from
the Admiralty; for £1000 was the prize given for the total destruction
of one of these enemy submarines.

The mine-sweeping has been described by those who should know as
having been the hardest service in the North Sea during the war. Sir
Edward Carson, who inspected the Harwich auxiliary force, in the
course of a speech, likened the men employed in the mine-sweeping
craft to soldiers in trenches at the front, who were required to go
over the top every day. It was indeed arduous and hazardous work. The
least of the dangers faced was that from the enemy Zeppelins and
aeroplanes which were constantly bombing the vessels--but here, as
elsewhere, with little effect; our fishermen took small notice of
these overhead foes.

It is indeed remarkable how very little damage was ever done by
Zeppelins at sea. On one occasion, it is true, the Zeppelin crews
killed a number of their own countrymen--the survivors of the sinking
_Blücher_--mistaking them for Englishmen. But our ships suffered
practically nothing from their frequent attacks. Yet the enemy
aircraft did their utmost to interfere with the operations of our
mine-sweepers and mine-net laying drifters. On one occasion a Zeppelin
hovered over a fleet of the latter craft which were lying in wait
watching their deadly nets off the Shipwash. The Zeppelin dropped
about seventeen bombs, some of which fell very close to the vessels,
exploding violently and throwing up huge columns of water; but not a
single hit was made and no damage was done.

But the mines amid which their duties took them daily were a very real
peril. Out of the little Harwich force, twenty-two mine-sweepers were
sunk by mines in the course of the war, while many others were
mined--some more than once--but were brought safely back to port. The
loss of life was heavy. Nearly one-quarter of the officers and men
were killed in the course of the war. In the case of the trawlers
there was small chance for the men when their vessel was mined under
them; but these tough fishermen, whose trade had taught them to face
danger from their childhood, carried on cheerily among the minefields
through all the years of the war. Many heroic deeds stand to their
account.

In times of peace, not few are the wrecks and gallant savings of life
on the stormy North Sea. But in war-time, with the far graver peril
from enemy mines and ships added to that of storm or thick weather,
many were the disasters and many were the courageous rescues of crews
and passengers by our mine-sweepers. In the period extending from the
date of the establishment of the Harwich base up to December 31, 1917,
no fewer than 1065 men, women, and children were picked up and saved
from mined vessels by the Harwich mine-sweepers--a total which was
much exceeded later. Often these craft hurried to the rescue at
fearful risk of being struck themselves by mines of the same group
that had brought about the disaster. One hears of trawlers that put
out their dinghies in the roughest weather in order to save lives; for
example, as when a trawler's dinghy rescued airmen from off the
dangerous shoal of the Longsand when a heavy sea was breaking over it.
For the North Sea fisherman, like his brethren in the Navy, is imbued
with that chivalry of the sea which makes the British sailor what he
is.

And not only lives but ships with valuable cargoes of food were often
saved. For example, there is the notable incident of the saving of the
_Berwen_. In the rapidly falling darkness of a winter day, with a
strong south-west gale blowing and a heavy sea running, the little
wooden drifter _Lloyd George_, manned by ten hardy Scotch fishermen,
while patrolling the War-Channel between the Shipwash and the Sunk
light-vessels, sighted the large merchant steamer _Berwen_, apparently
mined and not under control, to the south-westward of the Shipwash.

The _Lloyd George_ immediately steamed at full speed to the assistance
of the _Berwen_, only to find that the mined ship had been abandoned
by her crew and was rapidly drifting on to a minefield which stretched
to leeward of her, where several moored mines could be plainly seen at
intervals in the rise and fall of the heavy sea. The skipper of the
drifter, realising the danger and the necessity for immediate action,
with great skill and wonderful seamanship placed his drifter alongside
the _Berwen_ and, having put three members of his crew of ten on board
her, passed a tow-line and commenced to tow her to the south-west,
away from the minefields.

The little drifter, not fitted for towing, having none of the
necessary appliances on board, and not having the power to deal with
so heavy a tow, could make little, if any, progress in the teeth of
the ever-increasing gale; but she held on to the _Berwen_ and fought
bravely on throughout the dark night, surrounded by the unknown
dangers of mines, and was able at the coming of daylight to hand her
charge over safely to the tugs for which she had wirelessed.

The _Berwen_ eventually reached the Thames with only a few hundred
tons damaged out of the seven thousand tons of sugar which formed her
cargo. One is not surprised to hear that a grateful country omitted to
pay any salvage to the seamen who, by their gallant action, had
rescued so valuable a cargo, on the ground that the sugar was
Government property.

Worthy of note, too, is the good work done by the trawler _Resono_.
On November 17, 1915, when off the Galloper light-vessel, she
witnessed the blowing up by a mine of the merchant steamer _Ulrikon_.
She took off all the crew of the lost ship, and no sooner had this
rescue been effected than another steamer, the _Athomas_, struck a
mine and was badly injured by the explosion. Her crew abandoned her
and were picked up. The officer commanding the _Resono_, observing
that the _Athomas_ was not in immediate danger of sinking, decided to
salvage her. The men composing her own crew refused to go on board of
her again, though it was explained to them that they would have to go
through the minefield in any case, and that they would be safer in a
ship of large tonnage than in a trawler. Therefore the captain of the
_Resono_ called for volunteers from his own crew, put them on board
the _Athomas_ despite the heavy weather, towed her safely away, and
handed her over to the Sheerness Patrol in sheltered waters. The
_Resono_, after having accomplished much good work, eventually was
blown up by a mine off the Sunk light-vessel on Christmas Day, 1915.

Another well-known trawler was the _Lord Roberts_. During her long
career of patrol work in the Harwich area she went to the assistance
of many mined ships and rescued a very large percentage of their
crews. Unfortunately, she was mined and lost in October 1916, with a
loss of one officer and eight men. The _Lord Roberts_ had become a
familiar and welcome sight to the merchant vessels using the channels
off Harwich, and there was sorrow when she was lost. One Trinity
House pilot, missing her from her usual patrol ground, wrote a letter
to the authorities asking what had become of "our old friend, the
_Lord Roberts_."

As I have shown, a large vessel with watertight compartments has a
fair chance of surviving the effect of a mine. But with the small
vessel it is otherwise, and on her the effect of the explosion of a
German mine is indeed terrible. Thus the official message reporting
the loss, March 31, 1917, of the drifter _Forward III._, of 89 tons,
read, "_Forward III._ mined. No survivors." As far as can be gathered
from the circumstances, the drifter must have struck the mine with her
keel dead amidships, and when the smoke cleared away there was nothing
to be seen on the water beyond a few broken pieces of wood. A large
section of her wooden keel came down on end, pierced the deck of the
drifter _White Lilac_, and remained standing upright, looking, as it
was put to me, like "a monument to the gallant men who had gone."

The loss of the trawler _Burnley_ in November 1916 affords another
example of the total disappearance of vessel and crew after the
striking of a mine. The _Burnley_ was in charge of a subdivision of
trawlers carrying out a patrol in the vicinity of the Shipwash
light-vessel. At the close of the day the senior officer in the
_Burnley_, relying on the superior speed of his vessel to overtake the
others, ordered the two trawlers under him to proceed to their
anchorage in Hollesley Bay. What exactly happened after this will
never be known, but it is surmised that the _Burnley_ stopped to
investigate something suspicious. The _Holdene_, the senior of the
other two trawlers, reached the anchorage as night was setting in, and
had just dropped her anchor when a flash was seen on the eastern
horizon. This was followed by a dull, heavy explosion, which shook the
_Holdene_ from stem to stern. The anchor was immediately weighed and
the _Holdene_ steamed at full speed to the scene of the explosion;
but, though she cruised about for two hours in the darkness, nothing
was to be seen of the _Burnley_ or her crew. On the following day a
fresh group of mines was discovered in the vicinity, so it is probable
that the _Burnley_ had struck one of this group very soon after the
mines had been laid by German submarines.

Among the losses of the Harwich mine-sweepers may be noted that of
the paddle steamer _Queen of the North_, which was mined and sunk
while engaged in mine-sweeping. Despite the gallant efforts of her
consorts, one officer and nineteen men only were saved, seven officers
and twenty-two men being lost. Mine-sweeping in the War-Channel, as I
have explained, had to be carried out whatever the weather, and in
winter the weather conditions often made the work extremely hazardous.
For example, on one occasion a division had swept up eleven enemy
mines. Before any of these mines could be sunk by rifle fire a
blinding snowstorm swept over the sea, making it impossible for the
vessels to distinguish either each other or the drifting mines.
Nevertheless the R.N.R. officer who was in command of the division, by
exercise of good judgment, extricated his vessels from the dangerous
area, and twenty minutes later, when the weather cleared, he was
enabled to destroy all the mines.

One of the many dangers that attend mine-sweeping is caused by the
occasional failure of the sweep wire to cut a mine adrift. The mine
and its sinker come up the sweep wire when the latter is hove in, at
the great risk of causing an explosion under the vessel's stern. Thus,
the paddle steamer _Mercury_, while sweeping off the Sunk, brought up
three mines and their sinkers in this way. An explosion resulted,
which blew her stern off. Fortunately, no lives were lost. She was
towed into port and placed in dry dock for repairs. She was an unlucky
ship, for on her very first trip after the repairs had been effected
she struck another mine while sweeping close to the scene of her
former accident. On this occasion her bows were blown away and two
lives were lost. Again she was towed back to port and repaired, and
she is now once more engaged in mine-sweeping.

There is also a serious danger of a mine fouling a vessel's anchor and
coming up with it to explode under the vessel's bows, as is shown in
the case of the drifter _Cape Colony_, whose crew experienced a
miraculous escape from death. On the evening of January 7, 1917, in
company of other drifters, the _Cape Colony_ laid her mine nets under
cover of the darkness. She was then told off with another drifter to
anchor in the vicinity of the Shipwash to work the hydrophones during
the night. At daylight on the following morning the signal was given
to weigh anchor. The mate of the _Cape Colony_, leaning over the bow
to see the cable come in, suddenly saw the horns of a mine, apparently
foul of the anchor, on the edge of the water and within a foot of the
stem. With great presence of mind he jumped to the capstan and stopped
heaving in, but was unable to reverse and lower away. He immediately
shouted a warning, ran aft, and jumped into the sea, followed by the
rest of the crew. The last man had just got into the water when a
heavy swell rolled along, lifted the drifter's bow, and exploded the
mine, which blew half the drifter into matchwood. She pitched forward
and quickly sank by the head. The crew were rapidly picked up by the
boat from the other drifter, none the worse for their adventure.

Mines in their tens of thousands still lie about the North Sea to
endanger shipping, and probably it will take a year to clear them. For
sweeping up these mines the Admiralty are giving the men a special
rate of pay, and only those who volunteer are now employed. The danger
incurred is practically negligible when compared with the risk that
attended these operations in war-time.



CONCLUSION



CONCLUSION


Even those querulous and ignorant pessimists who, during the war, used
to ask, "What is the Navy doing?" must now know what the Navy has
done. Our Navy kept open the sea routes of the world to ourselves and
our allies, while wholly closing them to our enemies. Had our
politicians permitted it, the blockade by our Navy would have brought
the war to an earlier conclusion. The Germans, driven from the surface
of the sea, put their trust in their murderous submarine campaign.
Finding that this failed altogether against our Navy, they directed it
against the merchant shipping of the world. That attempt too failed.
Our Navy gradually mastered the submarines, until at last, towards the
close of the war, the crews of the German "U" boats refused to put to
sea. There was no great decisive naval action, for the good reason
that the High Sea Fleet would not fight it out with our Grand Fleet,
but retired to the shelter of the German minefields whenever it was
attacked. In vain inferior forces were sent to tempt the enemy out.
The German raids on the East Coast had no military value, and
apparently had frightfulness as their sole object. Their fast ships
used to rush across the North Sea under cover of the fog, bombard our
undefended watering-places for half an hour or so, then hurry home
again. These raids reminded one of the mischievous urchin who rings a
front-door bell and runs away. But though there was no great naval
action, there was plenty of hard fighting at sea; many a bold
enterprise was carried through and many a gallant deed was performed.

Of the great British Navy the Harwich Forces formed but a small part,
but they were typical of the whole Navy, and it was no small part that
they took in far the most important theatre of the naval war--the
North Sea. And now the Harwich Force of light cruisers and destroyers
and the Submarine Flotilla, having carried through their great duty,
are to be dispersed over the four quarters of the globe. Many have
already sailed to the West Indies, to the Mediterranean, to the China
seas, and elsewhere. The close bands of brothers who fought and died
together through the great war are now to be broken up; and it
requires little imagination to feel that they are loth thus to
separate.

In these forces lives a spirit that recalls that of the military
orders in the chivalrous days of the Crusades, when gallant knights
were banded together to fight and sacrifice themselves for a great
cause. To live for a while in these ships is to find oneself in a
purer, breezier atmosphere--an atmosphere of simple loyalty,
old-fashioned patriotism, devotion to the Service, and cheery
good-fellowship. These young men--for in the little ships they are all
young men, full of the joy of life, though veterans in war with great
experiences--make one feel sorry for the people who, in the coming
millennium that is being prepared by the politicians, will never have
the chance of fighting for their country on land or sea.

Englishmen, and especially English naval officers, are not given to
display of sentiment; but the members of the Harwich Force are justly
proud of that Force, and regard themselves as indeed forming a band of
brothers. Thus, after the signing of the armistice, at a dinner which
was given by the captains of the destroyers of the Harwich Force to
the great sailor who commanded that Force during the war, someone
recited the stirring speech which Shakspeare puts into the mouth of
Henry V. before Agincourt. These memorable words indeed well fitted
the occasion:

    This day is called--the feast of Crispian:
    He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
    Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
    And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
    He that shall live this day, and see old age,
    Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends
    And say--to-morrow is Saint Crispian:
    Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
    And say, these wounds I had on Crispin's day.
    Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
    But he'll remember, with advantages,
    What feats he did that day: Then shall our names,
    Familiar in their mouths as household words,--
    Harry the king, Bedford, and Exeter,
    Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster--
    Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered:
    This story shall the good man teach his son;
    And Crispian Crispin shall ne'er go by,
    From this day to the ending of the world,
    But we in it shall be remembered:
    We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
    For he to-day that sheds his blood with me,
    Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
    This day shall gentle his condition:
    And gentlemen of England, now a-bed,
    Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
    And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks,
    That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.


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