THE SINKING OF THE ARABIC—BRITISH SUBMARINE SUCCESSES

While the diplomats were laboring with questions arising from the loss of the Lusitania, at a moment when tension between the United States and Germany was acute, came the sinking of the Arabic, on August 19, 1915, with the death of two Americans and thirty-odd British citizens out of 391 persons aboard. The attack took place near Fastnet Light, not far distant from the spot where the Lusitania was sunk. Like the latter ship the Arabic was struck without warning, two torpedoes penetrating her side. She was a vessel of 15,801 tons and, although in service for a number of years, was rated as one of the first-class Atlantic liners. Previous to the attack she had been chased on several occasions by undersea craft, but had always managed to elude them.

The outcry that followed this event in the United States gave the situation as regarded Germany a graver aspect than before. She had been warned that this country would hold her to strict accountability for the lives of its citizens. Berlin, asked if a submarine sank the vessel, followed by immediate disclaimers of any belligerent intent. It was alleged that a German submarine had been in the act of attacking another British vessel when the Arabic hove into view and attempted to ram the submarine. In defense the latter's captain sank the liner, Berlin explained.

This theory was not in the least acceptable to the United States. Captain Finch of the Arabic and other persons aboard had seen the attack on the second ship, and the Arabic attempted to flee but was overhauled and torpedoed. The facts were attested to by such a number of persons that there could be little doubt of their correctness. But despite this and Germany's oft-repeated assurances of respect for American lives, nothing of a positive character was done by the United States. Negotiations dragged out to a wearisome length and the submarines continued to take their almost daily toll from neutrals and belligerents alike.

The British submarine E-7 was sunk by a Turkish land battery in the Sea of Marmora on September 4, 1915, thirty-two men being lost. She was the first undersea boat of the Allies to meet that fate in the Dardanelles operations.

The combination of care and luck that had kept British transports inviolate for more than a year, which ended with the sinking of the Royal Edward, was to be reversed during the coming months when German submarines inflicted heavy losses on this class of ships. The Mediterranean proved to be the grave of several thousand men lost in this manner. The Ramazan, of 3,477 tons, bringing native troops from India, was torpedoed and sunk on September 19, 1915, in the Ægean Sea. Out of about 1,000 men on board some 300 were landed at Malta. The levy which she had aboard consisted of Sikhs and Gurkhas. The sea was new to these men, drawn from interior provinces, and they had embarked upon their first voyage with all the misgivings which usually accompany that experience. The panic among them when the Ramazan was hit may well be imagined. Hints of it crept into the British press, but it was said that after a few wild minutes the officers got their men in hand and all died together with true British fortitude. One of the few announcements made by Germany concerning lost submarines was given out on September 27, 1915, whether for diplomatic reasons or otherwise it would be difficult to say. The U-27, it was said, had not been heard from since August 10, 1915, and was deemed to have been sunk or captured. Berlin concluded with the observation that the U-27 might have been destroyed after sinking the Arabic, inasmuch as none of her commanders had reported the torpedoing of the liner up to that date. It was Germany's plea at the time that she knew nothing officially of the Arabic's loss. The disappearance of the U-27, a new and fast submarine having seventeen knots speed on the surface, therefore, was a matter of diplomatic importance. The puzzle never was answered.

For some unexplained reason Great Britain never resorted to submarine attacks upon German shipping in the Baltic Sea until the fall of 1915. While her own vessels were being sunk she spared those of her enemy, either because the navy had not been prepared to undertake an expedition into the Baltic, or because it had been looked upon as a small issue in the face of graver problems. This situation was changed by the German threat against Riga, Russia's important Baltic port, following the fall of Libau and the progress of German troops in Courland within cannon range almost of Riga.

It was determined to send a squadron of submarines into the Baltic as a means of assisting Russia and for the purpose of stopping supplies being sent to Germany from Sweden. Commanders of the undersea boats were specifically directed to see that all passengers and crews were taken off merchant ships before they were sunk. These orders were carried out in detail, not a single noncombatant having lost his life as a result of the operations that ensued.

The E-13, with several other submarines, was bound for the Baltic when she ran aground. This was in Danish waters off the island of Saltholm, between Copenhagen and MalmÖ. She struck early in the morning and all efforts to gain open water failed. At five a. m. a Danish torpedo boat appeared and informed the commander that twenty-four hours would be given him to leave the three-mile zone. Shortly afterward a German destroyer came up and remained close by until two additional Danish torpedo boats reached the scene. The German withdrew, but reappeared about nine o'clock, accompanied by a second destroyer. The three Danish boats were close at hand, but neither they nor the British crew had an inkling of what was to follow.

One of the German destroyers hoisted a signal, but this was pulled down so quickly that the E-13's commander failed to read it. The German then fired a torpedo at the helpless craft, which struck the bottom near by without doing any damage. This was followed with a broadside from every gun that could be brought to bear.

Realizing that escape was impossible the British commander gave orders to abandon the ship and blow her up. When such of his men as were still on their feet tumbled over the side, the Germans turned machine guns and shrapnel upon them. A dozen men were killed or wounded before a Danish boat of the trio on hand steamed into the line of fire and stopped the slaughter. Both of the German destroyers retired.

This attack inflamed England from end to end. It was pointed out how British sailormen so frequently had risked their lives to rescue Germans in distress, and demand was made for reprisals. No direct steps were taken toward that end, but the German navy soon was to suffer losses from the companion boats of the E-13, which had reached the Baltic safely.

Hard on the heels of the E-13 incident came formal complaint from Germany that the British had pushed overboard survivors from a German submarine sunk by a trawler. Men aboard the transport Narcosian gave the first news of this affair on reaching New Orleans after a trip from England. They said that while the U-27 was parleying with the Narcosian, preparatory to sinking her, an armed trawler came to their aid and rammed the U-27, which sunk almost at once. Several of the German sailors swam to the trawler and climbed over her sides. They were thrown back and drowned, according to the Narcosian crew's testimony.

Representations upon this subject were made to Washington by the German authorities, without any expectation that the United States would take action, but merely to serve as a record and basis for future action. The German press cried for revenge, and it was not long until the Government itself talked broadly of similar treatment for British prisoners. Great Britain suggested that a board of American naval officers hear evidence in the case and render a decision, providing that Germany would defend charges of a similar character. From fighting, the two principal combatants had fallen to quarreling. Germany refused the challenge and nothing came of the matter.

A large German torpedo boat was run down and cut in two by a German ferryboat on October 15, 1915, not far from Trelleborg, Sweden. Both vessels were running with all lights out when the accident took place. Five men were saved and forty drowned.

The first fruits of the undertaking to clear the Baltic of German shipping and interfere with the operations against Riga was the sinking on October 24, 1915, of the Prinz Adalbert, an armored cruiser of 8,858 tons. Of 575 men aboard less than 100 were saved. She was the first big German warship to be blown up by a torpedo. True, the BlÜcher was so disposed of during the Dogger Bank fight, mentioned in another volume, but she already had been disabled.

The submarine that ended the Prinz Adalbert's career never was identified, but she did her work well. Berlin announced that two torpedoes struck the cruiser, both taking effect, and that she sunk in a few minutes. The attack was made near Libau, according to the German statement.

The British cruiser Argyll stranded off the Scottish coast on October 28, 1915, and broke up a few days later. The mishap occurred during a storm, and all of her crew were rescued by other vessels. She was of 10,850 tons burden, and carried a heavy armament. This same day the Hythe, an auxiliary vessel, was sunk in a collision near Gallipoli Peninsula, with a loss of twenty lives.

Turkish gunners destroyed the French submarine Turquoise in the Dardanelles on November 1, 1915. Her crew of thirty odd men were killed or drowned. The incident took place at the narrowest point of the passage into the Sea of Marmora.

November proved to be a bad month for the kaiser's naval forces. During the first week the U-8 was lost in the North Sea. Berlin reported that the vessel had stranded. Whether this version was correct cannot be learned, the British policy of concealing submarine captures, in order to befog Berlin, cutting off information from that source.

This month also cost the British several ships. Torpedo boat No. 96 collided with another vessel near Gibraltar on November 2, 1915, and sank before all of her crew could escape, eleven men being drowned. The fifth of the month witnessed a successful attack by an enemy submarine upon the armed merchantman Tara of the British navy. She was a vessel of 6,322 tons and carried from four to five hundred men, of whom thirty-four lost their lives. The sinking of the Tara, coupled with numerous attacks on merchant ships, proved that the undersea fleet of Germany in the Mediterranean was becoming formidable. Then began a painstaking search of the many small islands off the Greek, Italian, and Turkish coasts for submarine bases. Several were discovered and destroyed. A number of submarines also were caught or sunk in the Mediterranean.

The Undine, a German cruiser having 2,636 tons registry, and a crew of 275 men, was torpedoed in the Baltic November 7, 1915. She had been convoying a fleet of merchant ships coming from Sweden when a British submarine cut short her days. Nearly all of the crew were lost.

Germany now began to feel the pinch of undersea warfare. Sweden, most friendly of neutral powers on the European continent, and a source of endless supplies, was almost isolated from the Baltic side by the half dozen British submarines in that sea. Unlike the British, the Germans deemed it better to keep their vessels in port than risk destruction, even in the face of conditions that approached starvation for the poor. The string of vessels that had been bringing native Swedish products to Germany, and others from the United States and elsewhere, transshipped by the Swedes, were kept idle. Search for the submarines that imperiled their last water link with the outside world went zealously on. A number of small, fast patrol boats and cruisers were assigned to the task. Thus it was that the Frauenlob, a cruiser of 2,672 tons and some 300 men, came within the range of a British submarine off the Baltic coast of Sweden on November 7, 1915. She blew up and plunged to the bottom after a single torpedo had been fired. Practically every man aboard was lost.

As may be well imagined these achievements of her own undersea boats filled England with pride. It was almost a joy, except for the loss of life, to see Germany suffer at a business in which she had caused such distress to others. And the Empire was suffering acutely from the suspension of connections with Sweden, as evidenced by the greater haste to run down the elusive submarines that dogged her navy. More vessels were assigned to the hunt. Every mile of shore line within the German reach was searched for a possible base and the vessels in the hunt kept a lookout on all sides for the telltale periscope.

The British lost another destroyer on November 9, 1915, during a storm in the Mediterranean, a half dozen men being saved. And the Turks accounted for a submarine on the 13th, when the E-20 was sunk by land fire in the Sea of Marmora. Although Turkish craft had been compelled to forego trips in those waters they proved to be most unfriendly for allied submarines. With experience on the part of the Turks came less respect for the undersea boats, a number of which were hit by land batteries during the operations there.

Naval operations continued in this way without notable incident until December 18, 1915. Then the cruiser Bremen joined the other German war vessels that had been sunk in the Baltic search. She registered 2,672 tons, and had about 300 men aboard. The attack took place near the Swedish coast, and created such a sensation that the Swedes became convinced the British had a submarine rendezvous on their shores, and took a hand in the hunt. No evidence of a base could be found.

By this time German shipping had practically disappeared from the Baltic and it never reappeared. The British tactics fully served their purpose in this direction. And the few submarines rendered effective aid in the defense of Riga, helping the Russians stem what promised to be a dangerous onslaught. It would not be too much to say that the arrival of the little fleet of undersea boats was a turning point in the German drive along the Baltic, which overwhelmed Libau. The Russian line stiffened before Riga with the aid of the navy and the submarines. Riga was saved, perhaps Petrograd, which it guarded.

There was a considerable loss of life on December 28, 1915, when the Ville de la Ciotat, a French channel steamer, became the mark of a torpedo. Seventy-nine of her passengers and crew were drowned, the survivors suffering severely from bad weather in open boats before they reached land. A number of them afterward died of pneumonia.

The final tragedy of the year at sea took place on December 30, 1915, shortly after one o'clock in the afternoon at a point 300 miles northwest of Alexandria, Egypt, where the Peninsular and Oriental liner Persia was torpedoed. Like so many ships that had gone before she sank immediately. Out of 241 passengers aboard only fifty-nine were saved, while ninety-four men in a crew of 159 reached shore. This aroused some criticism, but there was no evidence to show that the crew had taken advantage of those intrusted to their protection.

No one saw the submarine that sank the Persia. She undoubtedly was torpedoed, as it was scarcely reasonable that a stray mine had floated to such an unfrequented spot. One American citizen, Robert Ney McNeely, appointed consul to Aden, Egypt, lost his life. He was en route to his post at the time and the United States Government found itself facing another serious situation. Here was an American official, bound on official business, killed by a friendly nation. There the problem became more complex. It could not be proved to whom the submarine belonged that attacked the ship; it could not even be shown that she had been torpedoed. Germany flatly denied any hand in the affair and Austria, after delay for reports from her submarines commanders, likewise disclaimed responsibility. Official Washington turned inquiring eyes upon Turkey. There were hints in the German press that a Turkish boat torpedoed the vessel. Both Germany and Austria had pledged themselves to respect the lives of noncombatants, but Turkey, having never sank a passenger ship, was bound by no such pledge. It even was hinted that Bulgaria might be the nation to blame. She had entered hostilities on the side of the Teutonic Powers, and was said to have at least one or two submarines.

Amid this welter of excuses, explanations and possibilities the United States Government floundered for several weeks. Then it gave up the problem and ruled that Mr. McNeely should have asked for a warship if he wanted to reach Aden and there was no other way to go. The Persia had several 4.7-inch guns aboard, which compromised her in the view of Washington.

According to the British Admiralty thirty-nine unarmed steamships and one trawler flying the Union Jack were sunk without warning by submarines up to the end of 1915. Thirteen neutral steamships and one sailing vessel were listed under the same heading. Of these, the Gulflight and Nebraskan were American. The Norwegians lost four steamships and the sailing craft, the Swedes four, the Danes one, the Greeks one, and the Portuguese one. It was stated that several vessels believed to have been sunk by submarines, where proof was lacking, had not been taken into account.

Although this compilation included the Lusitania, the Arabic, and other big vessels on which many lives were lost, the list seems of small consequence in view of later raids upon allied and neutral shipping by the German undersea boats. It was destined to reach an ominous length in the succeeding months.[Back to Contents]