Читать книгу The Battle of the Falkland Islands, Before and After - Henry Edmund Harvey Spencer-Cooper - Страница 5

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"I, my Lords, have in different countries seen much of the miseries of war. I am, therefore, in my inmost soul, a man of peace. Yet I would not, for the sake of any peace, however fortunate, consent to sacrifice one jot of England's honour."—(Speech by Lord Nelson in the House of Lords, November 16th, 1802.)

We are now approaching the end of the third year of this great war,[1] and most Englishmen, having had some of the experience that war inevitably brings with it, will agree that the words which Nelson spoke are as true to-day as when they were uttered just over a century ago. Furthermore, as time and the war go on, the spirit of the whole British nation—be it man or woman—is put to an ever-increasing test of endurance, which is sustained and upheld by those two simple words, "England's Honour." An old platitude, "Might is Right," is constantly being quoted; but the nation that reverses the order is bound to outlast the other and win through to the desired goal. The justness of the cause, then, is the secret of our strength, which will not only endure but bring success to our arms in the end.

When Great Britain plunged into this Armageddon on August 4th, 1914, the only German squadron not in European waters was stationed in the Western Pacific, with its main base at Tsingtau. In addition there were a few German light cruisers isolated in various parts of the world, many of them being in proximity to British squadrons, which would point to the fact that Germany never really calculated on Great Britain throwing in her lot on the opposite side.

The recent troubles in Mexico accounted for the presence of both British and German cruisers in those waters, where they had been operating in conjunction with one another in the most complete harmony. As an instance, it might be mentioned that on August 2nd, 1914, one of our sloops was actually about to land a guard for one of our Consulates at a Mexican port in the boats belonging to a German light cruiser!

A short description of some of the movements of the German ships during the first few months of war will suffice to show that their primary object was to damage our overseas trade as much as possible. Further, since it is the fashion nowadays to overrate Germany's powers of organisation and skill, it will be interesting to observe that in spite of the vulnerability of our worldwide trade comparatively little was achieved.

The German squadron in China was under the command of Vice-Admiral Count von Spee. The outbreak of war found him on a cruise in the Pacific, which ultimately extended far beyond his expectations. The two armoured cruisers Scharnhorst—in which Admiral von Spee flew his flag—and Gneisenau left Nagasaki on June 28th, 1914. Their movements southward are of no particular interest until their arrival on July 7th at the Truk or Rug Islands, in the Caroline group, which then belonged to Germany. After a few days they leisurely continued their cruise amongst the islands of Polynesia. About the middle of the month the light cruiser Nürnberg was hastily recalled from San Francisco, and sailed on July 21st, joining von Spee's squadron at Ponape (also one of the Caroline Islands), where the three ships mobilised for war. On August 6th they sailed for an unknown destination, taking with them an auxiliary cruiser called the Titania.

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THE WAR ZONE IN WESTERN SEAS

Apparently they were somewhat short of provisions, particularly of fresh meat and potatoes, for it was said in an intercepted letter that their diet consisted mainly of "spun yarn" (preserved meat).

On August 22nd the Nürnberg was sent to Honolulu to get papers and to send telegrams, rejoining the squadron shortly afterwards. A day or two later she was again detached, this time to Fanning Island, where she destroyed the British cable station, cut the cable, rejoining the squadron about September 7th, apparently at Christmas Island. Hearing that hostile forces were at Apia (Samoan Islands), von Spee sailed southward only to find, on his arrival, that it was empty of shipping.

The squadron now proceeded eastward to the French Society Islands to see what stores were to be found there. Completing supplies of coal at Bora Bora Island, it suddenly appeared off Papeete, the capital of Tahiti, on September 22nd. A French gunboat lying in the harbour was sunk by shell-fire, the town and forts were subjected to a heavy bombardment, whilst the coal stores were set on fire. Calling in later at the Marquesas Islands, the German Admiral shaped his course eastward toward Easter Island, which was reached on October 12th.

The light cruiser Leipzig sailed from Mazatlan, an important town on the west coast of Mexico, on August 2nd. Ten days later she was reported off the entrance to Juan de Fuca Straits, between Vancouver and the mainland, but never ventured inside to attack the naval dockyard of Esquimalt. When war broke out the Canadian Government with great promptitude purchased two submarines from an American firm at Seattle; this was probably known to the Germans, and might account for their unwillingness to risk an attack on a port that was otherwise practically defenceless.

The Canadian light cruiser Rainbow, together with the British sloop Algerine, did excellent work on this coast. The former, in particular, showed much zeal in shadowing the Leipzig, though they never actually met.

The Leipzig achieved absolutely nothing worthy of note, although she remained on the west coast of America for a long time. It was not till the middle of October that she joined Admiral von Spee's squadron at Easter Island, without having caused any damage to the British Mercantile Marine.

The light cruiser Dresden was at St. Thomas, one of the larger of the Virgin Islands group, West Indies. She sailed on August 1st and proceeded straight to Cape Horn, only staying her career to coal at various places en route where she was unlikely to be reported. Crossing and re-crossing the trade route, she arrived on September 5th at Orange Bay, which is a large uninhabited natural harbour a few miles to the north-west of Cape Horn. Here she was met by a collier, and stayed eleven days making adjustments to her engines. She evidently considered that she was now free from danger—we had no cruisers here at this period—for she continued her course into the Pacific, easing down to a speed of 8½ knots, and keeping more in the track of shipping. She met the German gunboat Eber on September 19th, to the northward of Magellan, and continued her way, apparently on the look out for allied commerce, but only succeeded in sinking two steamers before joining the flag of Admiral von Spee at Easter Island on October 12th. Altogether she sank three steamers and four sailing vessels, representing a total value of just over £250,000.

The light cruiser Karlsruhe, the fastest and most modern of the German ships on foreign service, was in the Gulf of Mexico at the commencement of the war. On her way to her sphere of operations in the neighbourhood of Pernambuco she was sighted on August 6th, whilst coaling at sea from the armed liner Kronprinz Wilhelm, by the British cruiser Suffolk. Admiral Cradock, who was then flying his flag in the Suffolk, immediately gave chase to the Karlsruhe, the Kronprinz Wilhelm bolting in the opposite direction. During the forenoon Admiral Cradock called up by wireless the light cruiser Bristol, which was in the vicinity, and, giving her the position of the Karlsruhe, ordered her to intercept the enemy. The Karlsruhe was kept in sight by the Suffolk for several hours, but was never within gun-range, and finally escaped from her by superior speed. It was a beautiful moonlight evening when the Bristol sighted her quarry at 8 P.M., and a quarter of an hour later opened fire, which was returned a few moments later by the Karlsruhe, but it was too dark for either ship to see the results of their shooting. All the enemy's shots fell short, so that the Bristol incurred no damage. Both ships went on firing for fifty-five minutes, by which time the German had drawn out of range. Admiral Cradock signalled during the action, "Stick to it—I am coming"; all this time the Suffolk was doing her best to catch up, but never succeeded in reaching the scene of the first naval action in the world-war. The German disappeared in the darkness, and was never seen again by our warships.

In her subsequent raids on British commerce along the South Atlantic trade routes the Karlsruhe was, on the whole, successful, until she met a sudden and inglorious end off Central America. Her fate was for a long time shrouded in mystery, the first clue being some of her wreckage, which was found washed up on the shores of the island of St. Vincent in the West Indies. Some of her survivors eventually found their way back to the Fatherland and reported that she had foundered with 260 officers and men—due to an internal explosion on November 4th, 1914, in latitude 10° 07′ N., longitude 55° 25′ W. (See Map p. 5.)

In all she sank seventeen ships, representing a value of £1,622,000.

There remain three German armed merchant cruisers that claim our attention on account of their operations off South America. The Cap Trafalgar only existed for a month before being sunk by the armed Cunard liner Carmania. A description of the fight is given in a subsequent chapter.

The Prinz Eitel Friedrich was more directly under the orders of Admiral von Spee, and acted in conjunction with his squadron in the Pacific until the battle of the Falkland Islands, when she operated on her own account against our trade with South America. She achieved some measure of success during the few months that she was free, and captured ten ships altogether, several of which, however, were sailing vessels. Early in March she arrived at Newport News in the United States with a number of prisoners on board, who had been taken from these prizes. She was badly in need of refit; her engines required repairs, and the Germans fondly imagined that they might escape internment. On hearing that one of her victims was an American vessel, public indignation was hotly aroused and but little sympathy was shown for her wants. Her days of marauding were brought to an abrupt termination, for the Americans resolutely interned her.

Lastly, there was the Kronprinz Wilhelm, which, as we have seen, was in company with the Karlsruhe when the latter was sighted and chased by the Suffolk only two days after war was declared. She was commanded by one of the officers of the Karlsruhe, and worked under her orders in the Atlantic. In fact, the German cruiser transferred two of her Q.F. guns to the armed merchantman, and they were mounted on her forecastle. She was skilful in avoiding our cruisers and literally fed upon her captures, being fortunate in obtaining coal with fair frequency. In the course of eight months the Kronprinz Wilhelm captured and destroyed fifteen British or French ships, four of which were sailing vessels. It will be realised how small was the toll of our ships sailing these seas, especially when it is recollected that the main object of the Germans at this time was to make war on our maritime trade. Finally, sickness broke out on board and there were several cases of beriberi; moreover, the ship leaked and was in want of repairs, so on April 11th she also steamed into Newport News and was interned.

That the Germans did not approach the results they hoped for in attacking our commerce was in a large measure due to the unceasing activity of our cruisers, who forced the German ships to be continually on the move to fresh hunting grounds. Thus, although many of them escaped capture or destruction for some time, they were perpetually being disturbed and hindered in their work of depredation.

The exploits of the light cruisers Emden and Königsberg are outside the scope of this book, but the following brief summary may be of interest.

Sailing from Tsingtau on August 5th, with four colliers, the Emden apparently proceeded to cruise in the neighbourhood of Vladivostock, where she captured a Russian auxiliary cruiser and one or two merchant ships, before going south to make history in the Bay of Bengal. She was eventually brought to book off the Cocos Islands on November 9th, 1914, by the Australian light cruiser Sydney, in a very gallant action which lasted over an hour and a half, when she ran herself ashore in a sinking condition on North Keeling Island. She sank seventeen ships all told, representing a total value of £2,211,000.

The Königsberg, at the commencement of hostilities, was lying at Dar-es-Salaam, the capital of what was formerly German East Africa. She sank the Pegasus, a light cruiser only two-thirds of her size and of much inferior armament, at Zanzibar on September 20th, but only succeeded in sinking one or two steamers afterwards. She was eventually discovered hiding in the Rufiji Delta in German East Africa, towards the end of October, 1914, where she was kept blocked up by our ships for nearly nine months. Finally, on July 11th, 1915, she was destroyed by gunfire by the monitors Severn and Mersey, who went up the river—the banks on both sides being entrenched—and reduced her to a hopeless wreck where she lay, some fourteen miles from the sea.