The beginning of the end--Reports in London that submarines were withdrawing to their bases to head a battle movement on the part of the German Fleet--How the plan was foiled--The surrender of the German Fleet to the combined British and American Squadrons--Departure of the American Squadron--What might have happened had the German vessels come out to fight
In the early fall of 1913 an American naval officer, who enjoyed to a peculiar degree the confidence of certain officers of the British Admiralty, was attending to duties of an extremely confidential nature in London when one morning he was accosted by a friend, an officer high in the councils of His Majesty's Navy.
"M----," he said, "I have rather an important bit of news. Within a few weeks--in fact, we cannot quite tell how soon--there is going to be the greatest naval engagement the world has ever seen. We are ready for them, though, and we shall win."
The American was naturally curious, and in reply to his questions the Briton went on to say that from certain intelligence quarters word had come that the trend of German U-boats back to their bases--which had been noted for a week or so--contained a grim meaning. It meant, in fine, the emergence of the German fleet, headed by the submarines, prepared for a final battle to establish the question of sea power.
One may imagine the tenseness that reigned at the Admiralty, and the code messages that flew back and forth between London and the flag-ship of the British and American battle fleet. As it happened, the German sea fighters never sallied forth in battle array, their final appearance being less warlike.
But they would have come, it transpired later, had not the sailors of the fleet intercepted messages from German officers to their families, bidding a last good-by. They never expected to return from this last fight. But the seamen were of a different mind from their officers. They declined to go forth to a losing battle, and they struck. This, then, appears to be the reason why the German battleships and armored cruisers and the like did not come forth to battle--at least this is one of the stories told in navy circles.
With the events that followed the cessation of hostilities on November 11 almost every American is familiar. The armistice of that date demanded that Germany give her entire fleet to the keeping of England. For a discussion of the surrender the German light cruiser Koenigsberg brought representatives from the Soldiers' and Sailors' Council, which was then in nominal control of the German fleet, into the Firth of Forth. Admiral Beatty refused to deal with these representatives, and insisted that all arrangements be made through some flag-officer of the imperial fleet.
Thereupon Admiral von Reuter, the commanding German officer, went aboard the Queen Elizabeth, and there arranged with Admiral Beatty and his flag-officers for the surrender. At dinner the German officers dined at one table, the British at another. After more discussion the Koenigsberg departed for Kiel about ten that night. The commander-in-chief then issued an order to all his ships, prescribing the entire details of the surrender. The American battle squadron got under way about 4 A.M. November 21, 1918, and steamed from the Forth bridge out of the Firth into the North Sea.
The entire Grand Fleet was here concentrated, formed in two long parallel lines steaming due east six miles apart, our American squadron being the second one in the northern line. By that time the Sixth Battle Squadron was composed of the New York, Texas, Wyoming, Arkansas, and Florida, the Delaware having returned home. Our ships were led by the New York. About 9 A.M. the men crowding the decks sighted some smoke coming dead ahead out of the mist, and in a short time the German battle-cruisers were plainly seen leading the other German ships in their last trip at sea under their own flag. They were not flying battle-flags. At this time every one of the Anglo-American ships was at her battle station, turrets were fully manned, and all preparations made for treachery at the last minute.
The German line, led by the Seydlitz, steamed slowly between the Allied lines, keeping perfect station, and when their flag-ship came abreast of the Queen Elizabeth the signal was given for the whole Grand Fleet to make a turn of 180 degrees, and return into port with the humiliated enemy. The appearance of the enemy ships was very good. There is no doubt they were magnificent fighting ships, and that in action they would have acquitted themselves gallantly.
Lieutenant W. A. Kirk, U.S.N., who witnessed the surrender from a point of vantage on the bridge of the battleship New York, standing just behind Admiral Rodman and Admiral Sims, said that it was exceedingly difficult at the time to grasp the significance of their surrender and feel duly impressed, as there was a lack of show or emotion of any kind.
"The whole affair," he added, "was run exactly according to prearranged schedule, and was only another proof of the quiet, businesslike, efficient way the Royal Navy does things."
Continuing, he said:
"We proceeded into port in this formation, our lines gradually converging as we approached the entrance of the Firth of Forth. After reaching a point a short distance in the Firth the German ships dropped anchor, and Admiral Beatty on his flag-ship stood by to inspect them. As we passed within 500 yards of the enemy ships on our way to anchorage, we gave the British Admiral three rousing cheers. He returned them by waving his hat to Admiral Rodman. About three that afternoon Admiral Beatty sent his famous message, 'The German flag will be hauled down at sunset to-day, and will not be flown again until further orders.' The German ships a few days later, and after more inspection, were convoyed to their port of internment, Scapa Flow."
The American battleships remained with the Grand Fleet for about two weeks after the surrender, and then departed, amid many felicitations and interchange of compliments, to Portland, where they joined the vessels assembled to escort President Wilson into Brest. This done, the American sea-fighters lay for a day in Brest, and then, spreading 600-foot homeward-bound pennants to the breezes, the armada headed for the United States, where at the port of New York the men of the fleet paraded down Fifth Avenue, to the appreciative acclaim of tens upon tens of thousands of enthusiastic patriots who lined Fifth Avenue.
Had the German fleet come out for battle a large percentage of it would unquestionably have been destroyed, and yet it is the theory of naval officers that some units, perhaps the swift cruisers, would in the very nature of the fighting (sea battles are fought upon the lines of two great arcs) have succeeded in shaking themselves loose, to the consequent detriment of our freight and transport traffic. Cruisers speeding free upon the face of the broad ocean are difficult to corner, and a great amount of damage might have been inflicted on the Allies before all were finally hunted down.
As it was, the enemy fleet remained at its base, and in the end came forth peacefully, as has been described. Had the war gone on, had the German craft not appeared for battle, a plan to smother their base through the medium of clouds of bombing airplanes would unquestionably have been put into effect at a good and proper time. And at the same juncture, no doubt, our Sixth Squadron would have joined with the Grand Fleet in an attack upon Heligoland, plans for which are still in existence.
In the waning months of the war it had become increasingly clear that the submarine as a weapon to decide the war was ineffective. Not only were the Allied destroyers and chasers, armed with their depth-bombs, waging a successful fight against the undersea boats, but other methods were beginning to have their effect. Chief among these were our mine-laying exploits, by which, in October of 1918, was established a mine-barrage across the North Sea, which proved a tremendous handicap to the German U-boats.
Captain Reginald R. Belknap, U.S.N., commanding Mine Squadron I of the Atlantic Fleet, which operated in European waters, has compiled an interesting account of the important part played by the United States mine-laying squadron in planting mines in the North Sea. From the time the United States joined in the war, he says, our Navy Department urged strong measures, essentially offensive, to hem in the enemy bases, so that fewer submarines might get out, or, if already out, get back. A new American invention came to the notice of the Bureau of Ordnance, where its possibilities were quickly perceived. A few quiet but searching experiments developed it into a mine of more promising effectiveness than any ever used before, especially against submarines. This gave the United States Navy the definite means to offer an anti-submarine barrage, on the German coast or elsewhere, and the result was the northern mine-barrage in the North Sea, stretching from the Orkneys 280 miles to Norway, which the Secretary of the Navy's annual report characterizes as "the outstanding anti-submarine offensive product of of the year."
Manufacture of the mines in this country--they were of the non-sweepable variety--had been going on since December, 1917. The many parts were constructed by the thousands by numerous different contractors, who delivered them at Norfolk, where the mine spheres were charged with 300 pounds of TNT, and loaded into steamers, managed by the Naval Overseas Transport Service. It required twenty-four steamers, running constantly, to keep the ten mine-planters supplied with mines. Only one fell a victim to a submarine.
Our mine squadron arrived at Inverness May 26, 1918, and twelve days later started on its first mine-planting "excursion." On this excursion, June 7, the squadron planted a mine field 47 miles long, containing 3,400 mines, in three hours and thirty-six minutes. One ship emptied herself of 675 mines without a single break, 1 mine every eleven and one-half seconds through more than two hours, the longest series ever planted anywhere.
On the seventh excursion, August 26, the commander of the mine force, Rear-Admiral Strauss, U.S.N., went out, and on the next, by the American and British squadrons together, he was in command of them both, on the San Francisco. The mine field on this occasion closed the western end of the barrier off the Orkneys, making it complete across. Of the ninth excursion Rear-Admiral Clinton-Baker, R.N., was in command. Altogether the American squadron made fifteen excursions, the British squadron eleven, and when the barrage was finished, at the end of October, 70,100 mines in all had been planted in it, of which 56,570 were American. The barrier stretched from off the northern Orkney Islands, 230 miles, to the coast of Norway, near Bergen. Its width averaged 25 miles, nowhere less than 15 miles--more than an hour's run for a submarine.
The barrage began to yield results early in July, and from time to time reports would come of submarines damaged or disappearing. It may never be known definitely how many actually did come to grief there, but the best information gives a probable ten before the middle of October, with a final total of seventeen or more. In addition the squadron should be credited with two submarines lost in the field of British mines laid by the U.S.S. Baltimore, off the Irish coast.
In summing up the work of the navy throughout the war one month after the armistice had been signed, Secretary Daniels paid the highest tribute to the widely recognized efficiency of Vice-Admiral Sims; he had also superlative praise for Rear-Admiral Rodman, who commanded our battleships attached to the Grand Fleet; for Vice-Admiral Wilson, commanding our forces in French waters; for Rear-Admiral Niblack, our Mediterranean commander, Rear-Admiral Dunn in the Azores, and Rear-Admiral Strauss in charge of mining operations.
When the fighting ended our force in European waters comprised 338 vessels, with 75,000 men and officers, a force larger than the entire navy before the war. The navy, in its operations, covered the widest scope in its history; naval men served on nearly 2,000 craft that plied the waters, on submarines, and in aviation, while on land, marines and sailors helped to hold strategic points. The regiments of marines shared with the magnificent army their part of the hard-won victory; wonderfully trained gun-crews of sailors manned the monster 14-inch guns--which marked a new departure in land warfare--while naval officers and men in all parts of the world did their full part in the operations which mark the heroic year of accomplishment.
While the destroyers led in the anti-submarine warfare, the 406 submarine chasers, of which 335 were despatched abroad, should have credit for efficient aid, also the American submarines sent to foreign waters.
The transportation of 2,000,000 American troops 3,000 miles overseas, with the loss of only a few hundred lives, and without the loss of a single American troopship on the way to France, was an unparalleled achievement. From a small beginning this fleet expanded to 24 cruisers and 42 transports, manned by 3,000 officers and 41,000 men, these being augmented by 4 French men-of-war and 13 foreign merchant vessels, a grand total of 83 ships. In spite of the constant menace of submarines, only 3 of these troopships were lost--the Antilles, Lincoln, and Covington. All were sunk on the homeward voyage.
Four naval vessels were lost as a result of submarine activity--the destroyer Jacob Jones, the converted yacht Alcedo, the coast-guard cutter Tampa, sunk with all on board, and the cruiser San Diego, sunk in home waters by striking an enemy mine. The loss of the collier Cyclops, bound for South America, whose disappearance is one of the unsolved mysteries of the seas, will probably never be explained.
The notable achievements in naval ordnance, especially the work of the 14-inch naval guns on railway mounts on the western front, which hurled shells far behind the German lines, have received adequate recognition from Allied authorities. These mounts were designed and completed in four months. The land battery of these naval guns was manned exclusively by bluejackets, under command of Rear-Admiral C. P. Plunkett, and work of the Bureau of Ordnance was conducted by Admiral Early, the chief of the bureau, one of our "ablest and fittest" officers.
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