Towards the end of August, 1914, the submarines under Commodore Roger Keyes discovered a rÔle of quite unexpected utility. Their immediate function had been to watch the approaches to the Channel, so as to stop any attempt by the German Fleet to interfere with the transport of the Expeditionary Force into France. In doing this, they found that they had exceptional opportunities for observing the enemy’s destroyers and light craft, and, as soon as the safety of the transports seemed assured, they constituted themselves the most efficient scouts possible. They soon found themselves in possession of an extensive knowledge of the habits of the Germans. It was this knowledge that led to the decision to sweep the North Sea up to Heligoland and cut off as many of the enemy’s light craft, destroyers, and submarines as possible.

The expedition included almost every form of fast ship at the Commander-in-Chief’s disposal. First the submarines were told off to certain stations, presumably to be in a position to attack any reinforcements which might be sent out from Wilhelmshaven or Cuxhaven. Then, in the very earliest hours of the morning, the two light cruisers Arethusa and Fearless led a couple of flotillas of destroyers into the field of operations. The Arethusa flew the broad pennant of Commodore Tyrwhitt. The Fearless was commanded by Captain Blount. The two flotillas, with their cruiser leaders, swept round towards Heligoland in an attempt to cut off the German cruisers and destroyers and drive them, if possible, to the westward. Some miles out to the west, Rear-Admiral Christian had the squadron of six cruisers of the Euryalus and Bacchante classes ready to intercept the chase. Commodore Goodenough, with a squadron of light cruisers, attended Vice-Admiral Beatty, with the battle-cruisers, at a prearranged rendezvous, ready to cut in to the rescue if there was any chance of Arethusa and Fearless being overpowered.

The expedition obviously involved very great risks. It took place within a very few miles of bases in which the whole German Fleet of battleships and battle-cruisers was lying. It was plainly possible that the attempt to cut the German light cruisers off might end in luring out the whole Fleet, and one of the conditions contemplated was that Admiral Beatty, instead of administering the quietus to such German cruisers as survived the attentions of the two Commodores, might find himself condemned to a rearguard action with a squadron of German battleships. That he took this risk cheerfully, well understanding the kind of criticism that would meet him, if in the course of such an action he lost any of his ships, was the first indication we got of the fine fighting temper of this Admiral.

Arethusa, Fearless, and the destroyers found themselves in action soon after seven o’clock with destroyers and torpedo-boats. Just before eight o’clock two German cruisers were drawn into the affray, and Arethusa had to fight both of them till 8:15, when one of them was drawn off into a separate action by Fearless, which in the ensuing fight became separated from the flagship. By 8:25 Arethusa had wrecked the forebridge of one opponent with a 6-inch projectile, and Fearless had driven off the other. Both were in full flight for Heligoland, which was now in sight. Commodore Tyrwhitt drew off his flotillas westward. He had suffered heavily in the fight. Of his whole battery only one 6-inch gun remained in action, while all the torpedo tubes were temporarily disabled. Lieutenant Westmacott, a gallant and distinguished young officer, had been killed at the Commodore’s side. The ship had caught fire, and injuries had been received in the engines. Fearless seems now to have rejoined, and reported that the German destroyer Commodore’s flagship had been sunk. By ten o’clock Commodore Roger Keyes, in the Lurcher, had got into action with the German light cruisers and signalled to the Arethusa for help. Both British cruisers then went to his assistance, but did not succeed in finding him. All Arethusa’s guns except two had meantime been got back to working order.

At eleven o’clock Arethusa and Fearless engaged their third enemy, this time a four-funnelled cruiser. Arethusa, it must be remembered, still had two guns out of action. The Commodore therefore ordered a torpedo attack, whereupon the enemy at once retreated, but ten minutes later he reappeared, when he was engaged once more with guns and torpedoes, but no torpedo hit. The Commodore notes an interesting feature of this cruiser’s fire: “We received a very severe and most accurate fire from this cruiser. Salvo after salvo was falling between twenty and thirty yards short, but not a single shell struck.” We shall find this happened several times in the different engagements. The Commodore continues: “Two torpedoes were also fired at us, being well directed but short.”

At this point the position was reported to Admiral Beatty. This cruiser was finally driven off by Fearless and Arethusa, and retreated badly damaged to Heligoland. Four minutes after, the Mainz was encountered. Arethusa, Fearless, and the destroyers engaged her for five-and-twenty minutes, and when she was in a sinking condition Commodore Goodenough’s squadron came on the scene and finished her off. Arethusa then got into action with a large four-funnelled cruiser at long range, but received no hits herself, and was not able to see that she made any.

It was now 12:15. Fearless and the first flotilla had already been ordered home by the Commodore. The intervention of the battle-cruisers was very rapid and decisive. The four-funnelled cruiser that had been the last to engage Arethusa was soon cut off and attacked, and within twenty minutes a second cruiser crossed the Lion’s path. She was going full speed, probably twenty-five knots, and at right angles to Lion, who was steaming twenty-eight. But both Lion’s salvoes took effect, a piece of shooting which the Vice-Admiral very rightly calls most creditable to the gunnery of his ship. The change of range must have been 900 yards a minute. I know of no parallel to this feat, though it must be remembered that the range was short. Lion’s course was now taking her towards known mine-fields, and the Vice-Admiral very properly judged that the time had come to withdraw. He proceeded to dispose of the cruiser he first attacked—which turned out to be KÖln—before doing so.

The expedition had been a complete success. Three German cruisers had been sunk and one destroyer. Three other cruisers had been gravely damaged, and many of the German destroyers had been hit also. Our losses in men were small, and we lost no ships at all. Arethusa had perhaps suffered most, though some of the destroyers had been pretty roughly handled. But all got safely home, and none were so injured but that in a very few days or weeks they were fit again for service.

The affair was in every respect well conceived and brilliantly carried out. The two essential matters were to begin by employing a force sufficiently weak to tempt the enemy to come out, and yet not so small nor so slow a force as to risk being overwhelmed. If something like a general action amongst the small craft could be brought about, the plan was to creep up with a more powerful squadron in readiness to rescue the van, if rescue were necessary, at any rate to secure the final and immediate destruction of as many of the enemy’s ships as possible. But there was no squadron fighting at all. Goodenough’s light cruisers, and Beatty’s battle-cruisers did, no doubt, keep in formation, but they found no formed enemy. There were no obvious tactical lessons.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the business is to be found not in what did happen, but in what did not. The German Commander-in-Chief must have known long before eight o’clock in the morning that fighting was going forward within five-and-twenty or thirty miles of him. He could have got to the scene with his whole force before ten o’clock. But beyond sending in a few more light cruisers and U-boats, he appears to have done nothing either to rescue his own ships or to attempt to cut off and sink ours. It is more than probable that he suspected the trap that was indeed laid for him. But the opportunity had been given of appearing in the North Sea in force, and the opportunity was not taken. It seemed very clear to most observers after this that the German Fleet would not willingly seek a general action, or even risk a partial action in the North Sea, except under conditions entirely of their own choosing. It seemed obvious that if such action was not sought in the early days of the war, it certainly would not be sought later, when the balance of naval power would be turning increasingly against them.

The battle-cruisers in this action had some exciting adventures with submarines. They had, for instance, to wait for some hours before the moment came for their intervention, and while at the rendezvous they were repeatedly attacked by them. From the Vice-Admiral’s despatch, it would appear that this attack was frustrated partly by rapid manoeuvring, partly by sending destroyers to drive the U-boats off. Later in the day, when the squadron was engaged in sinking KÖln and Ariadne, it was once more attacked by submarines, and Queen Mary (Captain W.R. Hall) turned his ship, not to avoid the submarine, but its torpedo, which was seen approaching. We got very early warning, therefore, of the truth of the prophecy that the first result of the employment of the torpedo in fleet actions would be compulsory movements of the attacked ships. It was a prompt reminder that if manoeuvring meant loss of artillery efficiency, that the enemy had it in his power, by submarine and destroyer onslaughts, to extinguish our gunfire from time to time.

Alone of the actions which have taken place in this war, the firing was all within comparatively short range. Six thousand yards was the limit of visibility. There are not sufficient data to judge whether the British gunnery was greatly superior to the German. But Commodore Tyrwhitt draws attention to a fact, already familiar to us, viz. that a German cruiser can send salvo after salvo, all within a few yards of the target, without securing a hit. It proved later to be a feature common to all engagements.

THE NORTH SEA

The engagement off Heligoland had no successor until the spring of 1916, when the attack on the island of Sylt took place. A second sweep some days after the first was made in the same waters, but nothing of the enemy was seen. Whether such sweeps were repeatedly made in 1915 without the public being informed, we do not know. By this I do not imply that no incursions into German waters were made—I mean only that we heard of none, and presumably that, if any were made, there was no result.

But two points in this connection may be borne in mind. The affair off Heligoland took place on August 28, 1914. After losing three cruisers by exposing them to Sir David Beatty’s and Commodore Goodenough’s forces, the Germans managed their affairs very differently. Perhaps from this time on no German craft ventured into the North Sea at all, except when the whole fleet came out in force. And they did not come out in force very often, nor at all, except at night or when the weather was clear enough for the fleet’s scouts, either in the form of airships, destroyers, or cruisers, to give long warning of the presence of danger. The two raiding expeditions and Von Hipper’s excursion of January 28 are undertakings of a very different character.

The Bombardments.—Whatever the explanation, there was no more fighting in home waters for exactly five months, but the Germans made two expeditions in force right across to the English shores. Early in November a squadron of cruisers appeared off Yarmouth, fired at the Halcyon, let off some rounds, without doing any damage, on the town, and retreated precipitately, dropping mines as they went. A British submarine unfortunately ran foul of one of these and was lost with all hands at once. Halcyon, perhaps the smallest and least formidable vessel that ever crept into the “Navy List”, engaged the enemy imperturbably when they fled, losing one man from a fragment of shell, though practically unhurt herself. Private letters speak of salvoes falling short and over in the most disconcerting manner, and of the ship being so drenched with water as to be in danger of foundering. The old story of the very accurate, but ineffective, fire of the German ships, was thus repeated. But no official or detailed information on this subject has been given. In December a second and much more successful raid was made. Scarborough, the Hartlepools, and Whitby were bombarded by a squadron, whose composition was never officially announced. The American papers have printed letters from Germany stating that the Von der Tann and Moltke, the Yorck and the Bluecher, with smaller cruisers, constituted the force. The visitors to Hartlepool experienced the hospitality of that flourishing port in its warmest form. The garrison artillery dealt faithfully with Von der Tann, and her disappearance was credibly attributed to injuries sustained in a collison, which damage to her steering gear, effected by the north country gunners, had prevented her evading. The squadron that bombarded Yarmouth made off in the thick weather. It was obvious from the terms in which the Admiralty announced the fact that the bombardment had taken place that it was considered quite certain that they could not escape a second time. Unfortunately, however, they did; but they lost the Yorck by a German mine when re-entering harbour. The details of the arrangements made for anticipating them were quite properly kept secret, but it became known that a sudden fog explained why these arrangements did not succeed. Both in the case of the Yarmouth and the Scarborough raids the enemy appeared at daylight. He had evidently crossed the North Sea during the night. From Whitby to the mine-fields off Heligoland is about 275 miles, a distance which each of the ships employed could cover quite comfortably in thirteen or fourteen hours. Had the squadron left Heligoland an hour before dark it could have fetched the English coast by daylight, hardly using more than three-quarter power. If it started for home at 8:30 it would have nine hours of daylight before it. At twenty-five knots 225 miles could be covered. This would bring them within fifty or sixty miles of the minefields, and it is probable that at some greater distance from Heligoland than this a rendezvous for submarines and destroyers had been arranged.

These raids were doubtless planned on the theory that the battle-cruiser fleet would be based on some point so far north that no difference in speed between the British and German ships would enable the former to overtake them before the mine-fields, or at least the waiting submarines and destroyers were met. And it may well have been hoped that an exasperated English Admiral, if he came up with them then, would not willingly give up the hope of an engagement. It may have seemed a very feasible operation to draw him either on to the mines themselves or within range of the submarines. It is, it seems to me, not difficult to reconstruct the German plan for both the Yarmouth and the Whitby raids.

It has often been pointed out—and with perfect justice—that in shelling open and undefended towns, and even a commercial port like Hartlepool that did have a 6-inch gun or two to defend it, the Germans were employing their fleet to no immediate military purpose whatever. It has been suggested that there might have been the very excellent military object of keeping our battle-cruisers in home waters and so securing Von Spee a free hand abroad. What has not been so often insisted on is that had there been any military centre, fort, or magazine worth attack, the fugitive character of the bombardments robbed them of any probable hope of hitting it.

There have been ample experiences during this war of ships bombarding distant objects on shore. And it is finally proved to be one of the most difficult operations conceivable. The case of the Koenigsberg was altogether exceptional. And many as were the difficulties to be faced in that action, there was yet this favourable element present, that the people in the aeroplanes could not possibly make any mistake as to the target that was to be bombarded, nor from the fact that it was a small ship lying in a considerable expanse of water could the observers, spotting all the different rounds, fail to give to the fire-control parties on board very accurate indications how to correct their sights for the next round. At the Dardanelles when isolated forts were attacked on a point on land, where one ship could lie off nearly at right angles to the line of fire and mark the fall of shot and the firing ship correct the fire for line, exact corrections of the same character as at the Rufigi were made possible. But when it came to correcting the fire by captive balloons and aircraft, when forts and gun positions had to be picked out in the folds of the hills, and still more where forts had to be engaged with no other corrections than the men in the control tops of the firing ship could supply, it became practically impossible to ensure sustained effective firing.

When, therefore, the German ships lay off Lowestoft, Hartlepool, Whitby, and Scarborough and bombarded for half an hour or so without any attempt to select particular targets, or if such were selected, to adopt any scientific means of directing their fire on to them, it became perfectly clear that their military object was about as defined as that of midnight bombing raids with Zeppelins. One is driven to the conclusion, therefore, that the primary object of these adventures was mere frightfulness, and that perhaps the secondary object was to draw the pursuing ships into some catastrophic trap.