On November 11, 1914, the Secretary of the Admiralty issued a statement which, after referring to the self-internment of Koenigsberg in the Rufigi River, and the measures taken to keep her there, proceeded as follows:

“Another large combined operation by fast cruisers, against the Emden, has been for some time in progress. In this search, which covered an immense area, the British cruisers have been aided by French, Russian, and Japanese vessels working in harmony. His Majesty’s Australian ships Melbourne and Sydney were also included in these movements.

“On Monday morning news was received that the Emden, which had been completely lost after her action with the Jemchug, had arrived at Keeling, Cocos Island, and had landed an armed party to destroy the wireless station and cut the cable.

“Here she was caught and forced to fight by His Majesty’s Australian ship Sydney (Captain John C.T. Glossop, R.N.). A sharp action took place, in which the Sydney suffered the loss of three killed and fifteen wounded.

“The Emden was driven ashore and burnt. Her losses in personnel are reported as very heavy. All possible assistance is being given the survivors by various ships which have been despatched to the scene.

“With the exception of the German squadron now off the coast of Chile, the whole of the Pacific and Indian oceans are now clear of the enemy’s warships.”

The material news was that Emden had been caught and sunk. She was one of Germany’s small fast cruisers, armed like the rest with 4.2 guns, and therefore no very formidable match for the ship that met and encountered her. The work of her destruction, we afterwards learned, had been done by Captain Glossop of Sydney, with a rapidity and neatness unsurpassed in any naval engagement of the war before or, indeed, since. But at the moment when the news came, the method of the thing was of far less importance than the thing itself, for it is no exaggeration to say that at the end of the first week of November the spirits of the nation were at an exceedingly low ebb. There was a marked uneasiness as to the naval position. The successes of the Fleet had been achieved without fighting, and it looked as if, in the naval war, we were not only watching, almost abjectly, for the initiative of the enemy, but that we were unable to defeat that initiative when it was taken. The public therefore forgot that 98 per cent. of our trade was carrying on as before, that our sea communications with our armies were under no threat, that the enemy’s battle force was keeping completely within the security of its harbours. There had been but one active demonstration of British naval strength—the affair of the Bight of Heligoland. But a dropping fire of bad news had made our nerves acutely sensitive. It was submarines people feared most. Writing at the time, I summarized the general attitude of the public as it appeared to me:

“Long before the war began the public had been prepared by an active agitation to believe that the submarine had superseded all other forms of naval force, so that when one cruiser after another was sent to the bottom, almost within hail of the English coast, people really began to believe that no ship could be safe, and that (under a form of attack that was equally impossible to foresee, evade, or resist) our vaunted strength in Dreadnoughts must in time dwindle altogether away. Then there were not wanting circumstances that, superficially at least, looked as if the Admiralty’s war plans and distribution of the Fleet were not adequate to their purpose. In at least one conspicuous instance, the resources of our enemy had been too great either for the means or the measures of our admirals. War had not been declared more than a day or two before the Goeben and Breslau made their way through the Mediterranean and escaped unengaged to the Dardanelles. The public knew that we had two powerful squadrons of ships in these waters, one overwhelmingly stronger than the German force; the other, on almost every conceivable train of reasoning, at least a match for it.B It seemed utterly humiliating that, with the French Fleet as our allies, and with Germany having none, so important a unit as the Goeben should have got away scot-free. Then it was not long before we heard of the depredations of the Emden, and of British ships being chased and threatened in the North and South Atlantic by other German cruisers.

“Against all these things could be set more cheering incidents. Twice the North Sea was swept from top to bottom by the British Fleet, the first resulting in the sinking of three, if not four, cruisers and one destroyer, and in the driving off, apparently hopelessly crippled, of two other cruisers and a great number of smaller craft. The second sweep seemed to show that the entire German Fleet had sought safety in port. Then the Carmania sank the Cap Trafalgar, and the Undaunted, with a small flotilla of destroyers, ran down and sank an equal flotilla of the enemy’s. But these were not sufficient to outweigh the anxiety which the German submarine successes had caused nor did they restore public confidence in the dispositions of the Admiralty in distant seas, where there were still two powerful armed cruisers, a large number of light cruisers, and an unknown number of armed merchantmen still at large.

“The whole thing culminated in a series of very disturbing events. First it was announced that German mines had been laid north of Ireland, and that the Manchester Commerce had been sunk by striking one. Were any of our waters safe for our own battle squadrons, if the enemy could lay mines with impunity right under our noses? This was swiftly followed by our hearing that the Good Hope and Monmouth had been sunk by the Gneisenau and Scharnhorst off Coronel. Then came the sinking of the Hermes and the Niger, one in mid-Channel, the other lying in the anchorage at Deal. And just when nervous people were wondering whether the mine and submarine had really driven the English Fleet off the sea, only to find that ports were not safe, there came the startling news that a German squadron had appeared off Yarmouth.... To many it looked as if this was the last straw. We had sacrificed four cruisers to patrol the neutral shipping in these waters, and when, almost too late, it was discovered that our methods made them too easy targets for submarines, we announced the closing of the North Sea. The public undoubtedly understood by this that, if we closed the North Sea to neutrals, we had closed it to the German Fleet also, and the appearance of this squadron so soon after the announcement was made, and its escape back to its own harbours without being cut off and brought to action, made people ask if the closing of the North Sea had not really meant that Great Britain had resigned its possession to the enemy.”

It is difficult, this being the situation, to overrate how cheering was the news of Emden’s destruction.

If the Canadian naval contingent were the first of our Colonial subjects to shed their blood in this war, then certainly the Australian ship Sydney was the first to assert Great Britain’s command over distant seas, by the triumphant destruction of a ship that dared to dispute it. We began our debt to the Colonies early.

Captain Glossop’s despatch was not published till January 1, but a good many other accounts had been published before, and some have become available since the action.

A very interesting letter from an officer of the Sydney was printed in The Times of December 15. With this account was also published, later on, a plan of the action which, with certain corrections which I have reason to believe are required, is reproduced here. A second account, by another officer in the Sydney, has been sent to me so that it is possible to add some not uninteresting or unimportant details to Captain Glossop’s story. But of all of the accounts Captain Glossop’s is at once the most interesting and the most complete, and I print it in full, because it is in every respect a model of what a despatch should be.

“H.M.A.S. Sydney, at Colombo,
“15th November, 1914.

“Sir:—I have the honour to report that whilst on escort duty with the Convoy under the charge of Captain Silver, H.M.A.S. Melbourne, at 6:30 A.M., on Monday, 9th November, a wireless message from Cocos was heard reporting that a foreign warship was off the entrance. I was ordered to raise steam for full speed at 7:0 A.M. and proceed thither. I worked up to 20 knots, and at 9:15 A.M. sighted land ahead and almost immediately the smoke of a ship, which proved to be H.I.G.M.S. Emden coming out towards me at a great rate. At 9:40 A.M. fire was opened, she firing the first shot. I kept my distance as much as possible to obtain the advantage of my guns. Her fire was very accurate and rapid to begin with, but seemed to slacken very quickly, all casualties occurring in this ship almost immediately. First the foremost funnel of her went, secondly the foremast, and she was badly on fire aft, then the second funnel went, and lastly the third funnel, and I saw she was making for the beach of North Keeling Island, where she grounded at 11:20 A.M. I gave her two more broadsides and left her to pursue a merchant ship which had come up during the action.

2. “Although I had guns on this merchant ship at odd times during the action, I had not fired, and as she was making off fast I pursued and overtook her at 12.10, firing a gun across her bows and hoisting International Code Signal to stop, which she did. I sent an armed boat and found her to be the S.S. Buresk, a captured British collier, with 18 Chinese crew, 1 English steward, 1 Norwegian cook, and a German Prize Crew of 3 Officers, 1 Warrant Officer and 12 men. The ship unfortunately was sinking, the Kingston knocked out and damaged to prevent repairing, so I took all on board, fired 4 shells into her and returned to Emden, passing men swimming in the water, for whom I left two boats I was towing from Buresk.

3. “On arriving again off Emden she still had her colours up at mainmast head. I inquired by signal, International Code, ‘Will you surrender?’ and received a reply in Morse, ‘What signal? No signal books.’ I then made in Morse ‘Do you surrender?’ and subsequently ‘Have you received my signal?’ to neither of which did I get an answer. The German officers on board gave me to understand that the Captain would never surrender, and therefore though reluctantly, I again fired at her at 4:30 P.M., ceasing at 4:35, as she showed white flags and hauled down her ensign by sending a man aloft.

4. “I then left Emden and returned and picked up the Buresk’s two boats, rescuing 2 sailors (5:0 P.M.), who had been in the water all day. I returned and sent in one boat to Emden, manned by her own prize crew from Buresk, and 1 Officer, and stating I would return to their assistance next morning. This I had to do, as I was desirous to find out the condition of cables and Wireless Station at Direction Island. On the passage over I was again delayed by rescuing another sailor (6:30 P.M.), and by the time I was again ready and approaching Direction Island it was too late for the night.

5. “I lay on and off all night, and communicated with Direction Island at 8:0 A.M., 10th November, to find that the Emden’s party consisting of 3 Officers and 40 men, 1 launch and 2 cutters had seized and provisioned a 70-ton schooner (the Ayesha), having 4 Maxims, with 2 belts to each. They left the previous night at six o’clock. The Wireless Station was entirely destroyed, 1 cable cut, 1 damaged, and 1 intact. I borrowed a Doctor and 2 Assistants, and proceeded as fast as possible to Emden’s assistance.

6. “I sent an Officer on board to see the Captain, and in view of the large number of prisoners and wounded and lack of accommodation, etc., in this ship, and the absolute impossibility of leaving them where they were, he agreed that if I received his Officers and men and all wounded ‘then as for such time as they remained in Sydney they would cause no interference with ship or fittings, and would be amenable to the ship’s discipline.’ I therefore set to work at once to transship them—a most difficult operation, and the ship being on the weather side of the Island and the send alongsideC very heavy. The conditions in the Emden were indescribable. I received the last from her at 5:0 P.M., then had to go round to the lee side to pick up 20 more men who had managed to get ashore from the ship.

CI. e. the rise and fall of the sea.

7. “Darkness came on before this could be accomplished, and the ship again stood off and on all night, resuming operations at 5:0 A.M. on 11th November, a cutter’s crew having to land with stretchers to bring wounded round to embarking point. A German Officer, a Doctor, died ashore the previous day. The ship in the meantime ran over to Direction Island to return their Doctor and Assistants, send cables, and was back again at 10:0 A.M., embarked the remainder of wounded and proceeded for Colombo by 10:35 A.M., Wednesday, 11th November.

8. “Total casualties in Sydney: killed 3, severely wounded (since dead) 1, severely wounded 4, wounded 4, slightly wounded 4. In the Emden I can only approximately state the killed at 7 Officers and 108 men from Captain’s statement. I had on board 11 Officers, 9 Warrant Officers, and 191 men, of whom 3 Officers and 53 men were wounded, and of this number 1 Officer and 3 men have since died of wounds.

9. “The damage to Sydney’s hull and fittings was surprisingly small; in all about 10 hits seem to have been made. The engine and boiler rooms and funnels escaped entirely.

10. “I have great pleasure in stating that the behaviour of the ship’s company was excellent in every way, and with such a large proportion of young hands and people under training it is all the more gratifying. The engines worked magnificently, and higher results than trials were obtained, and I cannot speak too highly of the Medical Staff and arrangements on subsequent trip, the ship being nothing but a hospital of a most painful description!

“I have the honour to be, Sir,
Your obedient Servant,
John C.T. Glossop,
Captain.”

The first point of interest in this engagement is the rapidity with which the gunfire on both sides became effective. Emden made no attempt to get away, and opened fire before Sydney did, and at a range of 10,500 yards. One account says “her first shots fell well together for range, but very much spread out for line. They were all within twenty yards of the ship.” Either the gun range-finders were marvels of accuracy, or else they had great luck in picking up the range so quickly. This account proceeds: “As soon as her first salvo had fallen she began to fire very rapidly in salvoes, the rate of fire being as high as ten rounds per gun per minute, and very accurate for the first ten minutes.”

I draw the reader’s attention particularly to this phrase, because it reproduces almost verbatim Commodore Tyrwhitt’s comment on the fire of the German cruisers in his third action of the Heligoland affair. We find the same phenomenon at the destruction of Koenigsberg, whose guns both throughout the first and second day of that affair seem to have had the exact range of the monitors. This testimony to the accuracy of the enemy’s fire must be read in connection with Captain Glossop’s statement, that in all about ten hits seem to have been made. All accounts agree that no hits were made after the first ten minutes. But if the rate of Emden’s fire is correctly given, she must have fired 500 rounds in this phase of the action. Ten hits to 500 rounds gives 2 per cent. of hits only!

The explanation, both of the Rufigi monitors and of Sydney’s comparative immunity, is undoubtedly the extreme range at which each action was fought. At such ranges a gun of so small a calibre as the 4.2 would have to be raised to a very high elevation. The projectiles, therefore, would fall very steeply towards the target. In conditions like these salvoes may fall just short and just over, and even straddle the boat fired at, without a single hit being made.

But of the excellence of the Emden’s shooting and of her control of fire—so long as the fire was controlled—there can be no shadow of doubt whatever. It was obvious that if the battleships were equally good, the German Fleet would prove a serious foe. We must certainly esteem it one of the fortunate chances of this war that when Germany was building her Fleet, her naval authorities were convinced that all fighting would be at short range. Their calculation was that at short range a rapid and accurate fire of smaller pieces should prove just as effective as the slower fire of larger pieces. Her cruisers therefore were armed with 4.2’s when ours were being armed with 6-inch, and her battleships with 11-inch guns when ours were being fitted with 12-inch and 13.5’s. In the case of battleships and battle-cruisers, the German constructors had their eye upon a further advantage in the adoption of lighter pieces. The weight saved could be put, and in fact was put, into a more thorough armoured protection. Von MÜller, the captain of Emden, when he was congratulated, after the capture, on the gallant fight put up, was at first seemingly offended. “He seemed taken aback and said ‘No,’ and went away, but presently he came to me and said, ‘Thank you very much for saying that, but I was not satisfied; we should have done better. You were very lucky in shooting away my voice pipes in the beginning.’” But if the Germans lost their voice pipes, Sydney lost her rangefinder in the opening salvoes. The German fire control had not survived the derangement of its communications. It was not possible to extemporize anything to take their place. We do not hear that the accuracy of Sydney’s fire lost anything when the rangefinder went.

Both ships appeared, in this action, to have employed, or at least to have attempted to employ, their torpedoes. In an interview with Von MÜller reported from Colombo, he is said to have explained that his intention in closing Sydney at the opening of the engagement was not to lessen the range so as to bring the ballistics of his guns to an equality with ours, but to get Sydney within torpedo range. Sydney seems certainly to have fired a torpedo rather less than half-way through the action when the range was at its shortest. But as in the Heligoland affair, so here, the difficulties in getting a hit were insuperable. That Emden did not fire a torpedo at the same time is explained by the fact that the action had not proceeded twenty minutes before not only was her steering gear wrecked, so that she had to steer by her screws, but her submerged torpedo flat also was put out of action.

All accounts of the action agree upon the excellent conduct of the men and boys on board Sydney. A letter published in The Times gives us many evidences of this. “The hottest part of the action for us was the first half-hour. We opened fire from our port guns to begin with. I was standing just behind No. 1 port, and the gun-layer (Atkins, 1st class Petty Officer) said, ‘Shall I load, sir?’ I was surprised, but deadly keen there should be no ‘flap,’ so said, ‘No, don’t load till you get the order.’ Next he said, ‘Emden’s fired, sir.’ So I said ‘All right, load, but don’t bring the gun to the ready.’ I found out afterwards that the order to load had been received by the other guns ten minutes before, and my anti-‘flap’ precautions, though they did not the slightest harm, were thrown away on Atkins, who was as cool as a cucumber throughout the action.” It was the boys’ quarters on board that suffered most from Emden’s fire. The same writer says:

“Our hits were not very serious. We were ‘hulled’ in about three places. The shell that exploded in the boys’ mess deck, apart from ruining the poor little beggars’ clothes, provided a magnificent stock of trophies. For two or three days they kept finding fresh pieces.”

They were probably consoled for the lost wardrobe by this treasure of souvenirs.

“There are lots of redeeming points in the whole show. Best of all was to see the gun’s crew fighting their guns quite unconcerned. When we were last in Sydney we took on board three boys from the training ship Tingira, who had volunteered. The captain said, ‘I don’t really want them, but as they are keen I’ll take them.’ Now the action was only a week or two afterwards, but the two out of the three who were directly under my notice were perfectly splendid. One little slip of a boy did not turn a hair, and worked splendidly. The other boy, a very sturdy youngster, carried projectiles from the hoist to his gun throughout the action without so much as thinking of cover. I do think for two boys absolutely new to their work they were splendid.”D