The Aboukir's sister cruisers, each more than a mile away, saw and heard the explosion. They thought the Aboukir had been struck by a mine. They closed in and lowered boats. This sealed their own fate, for while they were standing by to rescue survivors, first the Hogue and then the Cressy was torpedoed.
The Cressy appears to have seen the submarines in time to attempt to retaliate. She fired a few shots before she keeled over, broken in two, and sank. Whether she sank any submarines is not known.
The men of the Aboukir afloat in the water hoped for everything from the arrival of her sister cruisers, and all survivors agree that when these also sank many gave up the struggle for life and went down. An officer told me that when swimming, after having lost his jacket in the grip of a drowning man, his chief thought was that the Germans had succeeded in sinking only three comparatively obsolete cruisers which shortly would have been scrapped anyway.
Twenty-four men were saved on a target which floated off the Hogue's deck. The men were gathered on it for four hours waist deep in water.
The rescued officers unite in praising the skill and daring of the German naval officers, and, far from bearing any grudge, they have nothing but professional praise for the submarines' feat.
"Our only grievance," one said, "is that we did not have a shot at the Germans. Our only share in the war has been a few uncomfortable weeks of bad weather, mines, and submarines."
When I entered the billiard room of the hotel here sheltering survivors and asked if any British officers were there, several unshaven men in the khaki working kit of the Dutch Army or in fishermen's jerseys got up from their chairs. Most of them had been saved in their pajamas, and they had to accept the first things in the way of clothing offered by the kindly Dutch. One Lieutenant apologized for closing the window, as he had only a thin jacket over his pajamas. He gladly accepted the loan of my overcoat while making a list of his men who had been saved.
While the survivors are technically prisoners in this neutral country, to be interned until the end of the war, Muiden steadfastly refuses to regard them as other than honored guests. The soldiers posted before every building where officers or men are sheltered seem to be guards of honor rather than prison warders, and every one in the place is competing for the honor of lending clothes, running errands, or offering cigars for the survivors.
When the Dutch steamer Flora arrived with survivors last night, flying her flag at half-mast and signaling for a doctor, the Red Cross authorities and the British Vice Consul, Mr. Rigorsberg, at once set the machinery in motion, and soon the officers were settled in hotels and the men were divided among a hospital, a church, and a young men's institute.
I saw one bluejacket asleep covered with a white ensign. He had snatched it up before diving overboard. He held it in his teeth while in the water and refused to part with it when rescued. He is now prepared to fight any one who may attempt to steal this last relic of his ship.
One survivor says that an English fishing boat also was sunk by the submarines, but the story is not confirmed.
For hours Capt. Voorham of the Flora and Capt. Berkhout of the Titan, caring nothing for risks of mines and submarines, cruised over the scene of the disaster, and the gallant Dutch seamen were rewarded by the rescue of 400 survivors.
Capt. Voorham, who landed all the survivors at Muiden, says:
"We left Rotterdam early Tuesday. In the North Sea we saw a warship, which proved to be the Cressy. Not long afterward I saw her keel over, break in two and disappear. Our only thought then was to save as many survivors as possible. When we got to the spot where she disappeared boats approached us and we began to get the men in them aboard. It was a very difficult undertaking, as the survivors were exhausted and we were rolling heavily.
"We also lowered our own boats and picked up many from the wreckage. All were practically naked and some were so exhausted that they had to be hauled aboard with tackle. Each as he recovered at once turned to help my small crew to save others. Later I saw the Titan approaching and signaled for help.
"One man was brought aboard with his legs broken. It was touching to see how tenderly his mates handled him.
"Presently the British destroyers approached. A survivor on my ship signaled with his arms that he was on a friendly ship, and the warships passed on.
"Among those saved were two doctors, who worked hard to help the exhausted men. One man died after they had tried artificial respiration for an hour.
"My men collected all the clothes and blankets on board and gave them to the survivors, and the cook was busy getting hot coffee and other food for my large party of guests.
"By 11:30 we had picked up all the survivors we could see. Soon after we saw German submarines, and, thinking it best to get to the nearest port, called here."
Remember that Capt. Voorham had only a comparatively small ship and a crew of only seventeen and realize the splendid work he did.
*German Story of the Heligoland Fight*
LONDON, Sept. 8.--Copies of the Berliner Tageblatt have been received here containing the German account of the recent naval battle off Heligoland between British and German vessels.
"Regarding the sinking of torpedo boat V-187," says the Tageblatt account, "an eyewitness says the small craft fought heroically to the bitter end against overwhelming odds. Quite unexpectedly the V-187 was attacked by a flotilla of English destroyers coming from the north. Hardly had the first shot been fired when more hostile destroyers, also submarines, arrived and surrounded the German craft.
"The V-187, on which, in addition to the commander, was the flotilla chief, Capt. Wallis, defended itself to the utmost, but the steering gear was put out of business by several shots, and thus it was impossible to withdraw from the enemy. When the commander saw there was no further hope, the vessel was blown up so as not to fall into the enemy's hands. But even while she sank the guns not put out of action continued to be worked by the crew till the ship was swallowed up in the waves. The flotilla commander, as well as Commander Lechler, was lost, besides many of the crew.
"The enemy deserves the greatest credit for their splendid rescue work. The English sailors, unmindful of their own safety, went about it in heroic fashion.
"Boats were put out from the destroyers to save the survivors. While this rescue work was still under way stronger German forces approached, causing the English torpedo boats to withdraw, abandoning the small rescue boats which they had put out, and those who had been saved were now taken from the English boats aboard our ships.
"When the thunder of the guns showed the enemy was near and engaged with our torpedo boats, the small armored cruiser Ariadne steamed out to take part in the scrap. As the Ariadne neared the outpost vessels it was observed that various of our lighter units were fighting with the English, which later, however, appeared to be escaping toward the west.
The New York Times Current History of the European War, Vol 1, Issue 4, January 23, 1915 · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.