THE MYSTERY OF THE FLEETS

Movements of British Battleships Veiled in Secrecy—German Dreadnoughts in North Sea and Baltic Ports—Activity of Smaller Craft—English Keep Trade Routes Open— Several Minor Battles at Sea.

Shortly before war was declared a great review of the British navy was held at Spithead, on the English Channel, when several hundred vessels were gathered in mighty array for inspection by King George and the lords of the Admiralty. The salutes they fired had hardly ceased to reverberate along the shores of the Channel when the momentous struggle was on. It found the British fleet fully mobilized and ready for action. The ships had their magazines filled, their bunkers and oil tanks charged, their victualing completed, and last, but not least, their full crews aboard.

Then, without a moment's delay, they disappeared, under orders to proceed to stations in the North Sea, to cruise in the Channel, the Atlantic or the Mediterranean; to keep trade routes open for British and neutral ships and capture or destroy the ships of the enemy. Silently and swiftly they sailed, and for weeks the world knew little or nothing of their movements or whereabouts.

Mystery equally deep shrouded the German fleet. In all probability it lay under the guns of the coast cities and forts of Germany, but nothing definite was permitted to leak out. The test of the two great navies, the supreme test of dreadnoughts and superdreadnoughts, failed to materialize, and for weeks the people of Great Britain and Germany could only wonder what had become of their naval forces and why they did not come into contact with each other. A few minor engagements in the North Sea, in which light cruisers and torpedo-boat destroyers were concerned, served only to deepen the mystery.

Only naval men and well-informed civilians realized that Germany was biding her time, waiting to choose her own hour for action, realizing the strength of the opposing force and determined not to risk her own ships until the opportune moment should arrive which would offer the best possible chances for success. And meanwhile the main British fleet lay in the North Sea, waiting for the enemy to appear.

After a while letters began to come from the North Sea, telling of the life aboard the vessels lying in wait, scouting or patrolling the coasts. The ships were all stripped for action; all inflammable ornaments and fittings had been left behind or cast overboard; stripped and naked the fighting machines went to their task. All day long the men were ready at their guns, and during the night each gun crew slept around the weapon that it was their duty to serve, ready to repel any destroyers or submarines coming out of the surrounding darkness to attack them.

Vice-Admiral Sir John Jellicoe had assumed supreme command of the British home fleet on August 4, with the rank of admiral. His chief of staff was Rear Admiral Charles E. Madden. Rear Admiral Sir George Callaghan was in command of the North Sea fleet.

AN ADMIRALTY ANNOUNCEMENT

On Thursday, September 10, the secretary of the British Admiralty made the following announcement: "Yesterday and today strong and numerous squadrons and flotillas have made a complete sweep of the North Sea up to and into the Heligoland Bight. The German fleet made no attempt to interfere with our movements and no German ship of any kind was seen at sea."

That much patience had to be exercised by the seamen of the North Sea fleet is evidenced by a letter in which the writer said to his family, "If you want to get away from the excitement of war, you should be here with me." This situation, of course, might be changed at a moment's notice. The London Times said in September: "It is not to be wondered at if our seamen today envy a little the old-time sailors who did not have to compete with such things as mines, destroyers and submarines. In the accounts of the old blockades we read how by means of music and dancing, and even theatrical entertainments, the monotonous nature of the work was counteracted, and the officers of the ships, including Nelson and other great commanders, welcomed these diversions for the prevention of the evils which might be bred by enforced idleness. It is a true saying that everything that stagnates corrupts. There is no possible chance of the crews of our modern vessels stagnating under the new conditions of war. Whether engaged in blockading in the big ships, scouting in the cruisers, or patrolling the coasts in the destroyers, the life is described as tremendously interesting and exciting. There has been no sense of monotony whatever. Indeed, the conditions are such that, were it not obligatory for portions of every crew to take rest, all of them would be continually on the alert. We may be certain that arrangements have been made for ensuring that the crews obtain periods of relaxation from the constant strain; but the only real change comes in the big ships when they have of necessity to refill their bunkers."

LOSS OF THE CRUISER AMPHION

The cruiser Amphion was the first British war vessel lost in the war. The survivors on landing at the North Sea port of Harwich, England, on August 10, stated that hardly had they left Harwich than they were ordered to clear the decks for action. They sighted the German mine-laying vessel Koenigin Luise, and, as it refused to stop even when a shot was fired across its bows, they gave chase.

The German ship fired and then the destroyers, accompanying the Amphion, surrounded and sank it after a brief combined bombardment.

The captain, it is said, was beside himself with fury. He had a revolver in his hand and threatened his men as they prepared to surrender to the rescuing ships. He flatly refused to give himself up and was taken by force.

When the smoke of a big ship was seen on the horizon the Amphion gave chase, firing a warning shot as it drew near the vessel, which at once made known its identity as the Harwich boat St. Petersburg, carrying Prince Lichnowsky, the German ambassador, to the Hook of Holland. While returning to port came the tragedy of the Amphion. As it struck a sunken mine it gave two plunging jerks. Then came an explosion which ripped up its forepart, shot up its funnels like arrows from a bow, and lifted its heavy guns into the air. The falling material struck several of the boats of the flotilla and injured some of the men on board them.

The Amphion's men were dreadfully burned and scalded and had marks on their faces and bodies which resembled splashes of acid.

The scene at Harwich was like that which follows a colliery explosion. Of the British seamen in the hospital thirteen were suffering from severe burns, five from less serious burns, two from the effects of lyddite fumes, and one each from concussion, severe injury, slight wounds, shock, and slight burns. A few wounded German sailors also lay in the hospital.

SINKING A GERMAN SUBMARINE

On August 12 there came from Edinburgh the story of an eyewitness of a naval battle in the North Sea on the previous Sunday between British cruisers and German submarines, in which the German submarine U-15 was sunk.

"The cruiser squadron on Sunday," the story ran, "suddenly became aware of the approach of the submarine flotilla. The enemy was submerged, only the periscopes showing above the surface of the water.

"The attitude of the British in the face of this attack was cool and the enemy was utterly misled when suddenly the cruiser Birmingham, steaming at full speed, fired the first shot. This shot was carefully aimed, not at the submerged body of a submarine, but at the thin line of the periscope.

"The gunnery was superbly accurate and shattered the periscope. Thereupon the submarine, now a blinded thing, rushed along under water in imminent danger of self-destruction from collision with the cruisers above.

"The sightless submarine was then forced to come to the surface, whereupon the Birmingham's gunner fired the second shot of the fight. This shot struck at the base of the conning tower, ripping the whole of the upper structure clean and the U-15 sank like a stone.

"The remainder of the submarine flotilla fled."

NAVAL BATTLE OFF HELIGOLAND

In the last week of August a naval engagement occurred off the island of Heligoland, in the North Sea. British war vessels sank five German ships, killing 900 men. A graphic description of the engagement was given by a young lieutenant who was on one of the British torpedo boat destroyers:

"I think the home papers are magnifying what really was but an affair of outposts. We destroyers went in and lured the enemy out and had lots of excitement. The big fellows then came up and afforded some excellent target practice, and we were very glad to see them come; but it was a massacre, not a fight.

"There was superb generalship and overwhelming forces on the spot, but there was really nothing for them to do except to shoot the enemy, even as father shoots pheasants.

"Have you ever noticed a dog rush in on a flock of sheep and scatter them? He goes for the nearest and barks and goes so much faster than the flock that it bunches up with its companions. The dog then barks at another and the sheep spread out fanwise, so in front of the dog there is a semicircle of sheep and behind him none.

"That was much what we did at 7 a. m. on August 28. The sheep were the German torpedo craft, which fell back on the limits of our range and tried to lure us within the fire of the Heligoland forts. But a cruiser then came out and engaged our Arethusa and they had a real heart-to-heart talk, while we looked on, and a few of us tried to shoot at the enemy, too, though it was beyond our distance.

"We were getting nearer Heligoland all the time. There was a thick mist and I expected every minute to find the forts on the island bombarding us, so the Arethusa presently drew off after landing at least one good shell on the enemy. The enemy gave every hit as good as he got there.

"We then reformed, but a strong destroyer belonging to the submarines got chased, and the Arethusa and Fearless went back to look after it. We presently heard a hot action astern, so the captain in command of the flotilla turned us around and we went back to help. But they had driven the enemy off and on our arrival told us to 'form up' on the Arethusa.

CRUISER FIRES ON SHIPS

"When we had partly formed and were very much bunched together, making a fine target, suddenly out of the mist arrived five or six shells from a point not 150 yards away. We gazed at whence they came and again five or six stabs of fire pierced the fog, and we made out a four-funneled German cruiser of the Breslau class.

"Those stabs were its guns going off. We waited fifteen seconds and the shots and noise of its guns arrived pretty well from fifty yards away. Its next salvo of shots went above us, and I ducked as they whirred overhead like a covey of fast partridges.

"You would suppose our captain had done this sort of thing all his life. He went full speed ahead at once, upon the first salvo, to string the bunch out and thus offer less target. The commodore from the Arethusa made a signal to us to attack with torpedoes. So we swung round at right angles and charged full speed at the enemy like a hussar attack.

"Our boat got away at the start magnificently and led the field, so all the enemy's firing was aimed at us for the next ten minutes, when we got so close that debris from their shells fell on board. Then we altered our course and so threw them out in their reckoning of our speed, and they had all their work to do over again.

"Humanly speaking, our captain by twisting and turning at psychological moments saved us. Actually, I feel that we were in God's keeping that day. After ten minutes we got near enough to fire our torpedo. Then we turned back to the Arethusa. Next our follower arrived just where we had been and fired its torpedo, and of course the enemy fired at it instead of at us. What a blessed relief!

"After the destroyers came the Fearless, and it stayed on the scene. Soon we found it was engaging a three-funneler, the Mainz, so off we started again, now for the Mainz, the situation being that the crippled Arethusa was too tubby to do anything but be defended by us, its children.

"Scarcely, however, had we started when, from out of the mist and across our front, in furious pursuit came the first cruiser squadron of the town class, the Birmingham, and each unit a match for three like the Mainz, which was soon sunk. As we looked and reduced speed they opened fire, and the clear bang-bang of their guns was just like a cooling drink.

"To see a real big four-funneler spouting flame, which flame denoted shells starting, and those shells not at us but for us, was the most cheerful thing possible. Once we were in safety, I hated it. We had just been having our own imaginations stimulated on the subject of shells striking.

"Now, a few minutes later, to see another ship not three miles away, reduced to a piteous mass of unrecognizability, wreathed in black fumes from which flared out angry gusts of fire like Vesuvius in eruption, as an unending stream of hundred-pound shells burst on board it, just pointed the moral and showed us what might have been.

"The Mainz was immensely gallant. The last I saw of it it was absolutely wrecked. It was a fuming inferno. But it had one gun forward and one aft still spitting forth fury and defiance like a wild cat.

"Then we went west, while they went east. Just a bit later we heard the thunder of the enemy's guns for a space. Then fell silence, and we knew that was all.

A MARVELOUS RESCUE

"The most romantic, dramatic, and piquant episode that modern war can ever show came next. The Defender, having sunk an enemy, lowered a whaler to pick up its swimming survivors. Before the whaler got back, an enemy's cruiser came up and chased the Defender, which thus had to abandon its small boat.

"Imagine their feelings, alone in an open boat without food, twenty-five miles from the nearest land, and that land an enemy's fortress, with nothing but fog and foes around them, and then suddenly a swirl alongside, and up, if you please, hops His Britannic Majesty's submarine E-4, opens its conning tower, takes them all on board, shuts up again, dives and brings them home, 250 miles."

THREE BRITISH CRUISERS SUNK

On Tuesday morning, September 22, the British cruisers Aboukir, Cressy and Hogue were torpedoed and sunk by a German submarine in the North Sea. Each of the vessels carried a crew of about 650 men, and the total of the death roll was about 1,400.

The three cruisers had for some time been patrolling the North Sea. Soon after 6 o'clock in the morning the Aboukir suddenly felt a shock on the port side. A dull explosion was heard and a column of water was thrown up mast high. The explosion wrecked the stokehold just forward of amidships: and tore the bottom open.

Almost immediately the doomed cruiser began to settle. Except for the watch on deck, most of the crew were asleep, wearied by the constant vigil in bad weather, but in perfect order the officers and men rushed to quarters. The quick-firers were manned in the hope of a dying shot at the submarine, but there was not a glimpse of one.

Meanwhile the Aboukir's sister cruisers, more than a mile away, saw and heard the explosion and thought the Aboukir had struck 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.

Only the Cressy appears to have seen the submarine in time to attempt to retaliate, and she fired a few shots before she keeled over, broken in two, and sank.

British naval officers by this time were beginning to wonder how long the German high seas fleet intended to remain under cover in the Kiel canal.

"Our only grievance," one said, "is that we have not had a shot at the Germans. Our only share of the war has been a few uncomfortable weeks of bad weather, mines and submarines."

A number of the survivors were taken to the Dutch port of Ymuiden, where they were interned as technical prisoners of war.

THE GERMAN COMMANDER'S STORY

The German submarine which accomplished the hitherto unparalleled feat was the U-9, in command of Capt.-Lieut. Otto Weddigen, whose interesting story was given to the public through the German Admiralty on October 6, as follows:

"I set out from a North Sea port on one of the arms of the Kiel canal and set my course in a southwesterly direction. The name of the port I cannot state officially, but it was not many days before the morning of September 22 when I fell in with my quarry.

"British torpedo-boats came within my reach, but I felt there was bigger game further on, so on I went. It was ten minutes after six in the morning of the 22nd when I caught sight of one of the big cruisers of the enemy.

"I was then eighteen sea miles northwesterly of the Hook of Holland. I had traveled considerably more than 200 miles from my base. I had been going ahead partially submerged, with about five feet of my periscope showing.

"Almost immediately I caught sight of the first cruiser and two others. I submerged completely and laid my course in order to bring up in center of the trio, which held a sort of triangular formation. I could see their gray-black sides riding high over the water.

"When I first sighted them they were near enough for torpedo work, but I wanted to make my aim sure, so I went down and in on them. I had taken the position of the three ships before submerging, and I succeeded in getting another flash through my periscope before I began action. I soon reached what I regarded as a good shooting point.

"Then I loosed one of my torpedoes at the middle ship. I was then about twelve feet under water and got the shot off in good shape, my men handling the boat as if it had been a skiff. I climbed to the surface to get a sight through my tube of the effect and discovered that the shot had gone straight and true, striking the ship, which I later learned was the Aboukir, under one of its magazines, which in exploding helped the torpedo's work of destruction.

"There was a fountain of water, a burst of smoke, a flash of fire, and part of the cruiser rose in the air.

STRIKES THE SECOND CRUISER

"Its crew were brave and, even with death staring them in the face, kept to their posts. I submerged at once. But I had stayed on top long enough to see the other cruisers, which I learned were the Cressy and the Hogue, turn and steam full speed to their dying sister.

"As I reached my torpedo depth I sent a second charge at the nearest of the oncoming vessels, which was the Hogue. The English were playing my game, for I had scarcely to move out of my position, which was a great aid, since it helped to keep me from detection.

"The attack on the Hogue went true. But this time I did not have the advantageous aid of having the torpedo detonate under the magazine, so for twenty minutes the Hogue lay wounded and helpless on the surface before it heaved, half turned over, and sank.

"By this time the third cruiser knew, of course, that the enemy was upon it, and it sought as best it could to defend itself. It loosed its torpedo defense batteries on bows, star-board, and port, and stood its ground as if more anxious to help the many sailors in the water than to save itself.

"In the common method of defending itself against a submarine attack, it steamed in a zigzag course, and this made it necessary for me to hold my torpedoes until I could lay a true course for them, which also made it necessary for me to get nearer to the Cressy.

"I had to come to the surface for a view, and saw how wildly the fire was being sent from the ship. Small wonder that was when they did not know where to shoot, although one shot went unpleasantly near us.

"When I got within suitable range I sent away my third attack. This time I sent a second torpedo after the first to make the strike doubly certain. My crew were aiming like sharpshooters and both torpedoes went to their bull's-eye. My luck was with me again, for the enemy was made useless and at once began sinking by the head. Then it careened far over, but all the while its men stayed at the guns looking for their invisible foe.

"They were brave and true to their country's sea traditions. Then it eventually suffered a boiler explosion and completely turned turtle. With its keel uppermost it floated until the air got out from under it and then it sank with a loud sound, as if from a creature in pain.

"The whole affair had taken less than one hour from the time of shooting off the first torpedo until the Cressy went to the bottom.

"I set my course for home. Before I got far some British cruisers and destroyers were on the spot and the destroyers took up the chase.

"I kept under water most of the way, but managed to get off a wireless to the German fleet that I was heading homeward and being pursued. But although British destroyers saw me plainly at dusk on the 22d and made a final effort to stop me, they abandoned the attempt, as it was taking them too far from safety and needlessly exposing them to attack from our fleet and submarines."

MERCHANTMEN CAPTURED AND SUNK

During the first months of the war a large number of merchant vessels, principally German and British, were captured or sunk. According to a British Admiralty return, issued September 28, twelve British ships with an aggregate tonnage of 59,331 tons had been sunk on the high seas by German cruisers up to September 23. Eight other British ships, whose tonnage aggregated 2,970, had been sunk by German mines in the North Sea, and 24 fishing craft, with a tonnage of 4,334, had been captured or sunk by the Germans in the same waters. British ships detained at German ports numbered 74, with a total tonnage of 170,000.

On the other side the Admiralty reported 102 German ships, with a total tonnage of 200,000, detained in British ports since the outbreak of the war; while 88 German ships, of an aggregate tonnage of 338,000, had been captured since hostilities began.

The return also showed that 168 German ships, with an aggregate tonnage of 283,000, had been detained or captured by the Allies. Fifteen ships, with a tonnage of 247,000, were detained in American ports, while fourteen others, with a tonnage of 72,000, remained in the Suez Canal.

The German mines in the North Sea had also destroyed seven Scandinavian ships, with a tonnage of 11,098.

GERMAN CRUISERS ACTIVE

Several German cruisers were amazingly active in distant waters early in the war. Among these were the Goeben, Breslau, Emden, Karlsruhe, and Leipzig, which captured or sank a number of vessels of the enemy. The German cruisers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau also operated in the Pacific, bombarding the French colony of Papeete, on the island of Tahiti, and inflicting much damage, including the sinking of two vessels.

On August 26 the big converted German liner Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse, while cruising on the northwest coast of Africa, was sunk by the British cruiser Highflyer.

The German cruiser Dresden was reported sunk by British cruisers in South American waters in the second week of September. The Emden, operating under the German flag in the Indian Ocean, sank several British steamers. Several Austrian vessels succumbed to mines off the coast of Dalmatia and in the Baltic there were a number of casualties in which both Russian and German cruisers suffered. The Russian armored cruiser Bayan was sunk in a fight near the entrance to the Gulf of Finland.

On September 20 the German protected cruiser Koenigsberg attacked the British light cruiser Pegasus in the harbor of Zanzibar and disabled her. Off the east coast of South America the British auxiliary cruiser Carmania, a former Cunard liner, destroyed a German merchant cruiser mounting eight four-inch guns. About the same time the German cruiser Hela was sunk in the North Sea by the British submarine E-9. The Kronprinz Wilhelm, a former German liner, which had been supplying coal to German cruisers in the Atlantic, was also sunk by the British.

GERMAN COLONY OCCUPIED

The British Admiralty announced on September 12 that the Australian fleet had occupied Herbertshoehe, on Blanche Bay, the seat of government of the German Bismarck Archipelago and the Solomon Islands.

The Bismarck Archipelago, with an area of 18,000 square miles and a population of 200,000, is off the north coast of Australia and southwest of the Philippine Islands. The group was assigned to the German sphere of influence by an agreement with Great Britain in 1885. German New Guinea was included in the jurisdiction.

GERMANS SINK RUSS CRUISER

On October 11 German submarines in the Baltic torpedoed and sank the Russian armored cruiser Pallada with all its crew, numbering 568 men. The Pallada had a displacement of 7,775 tons and was a sister ship of the Admiral Makarov and Bayan. She was launched in November, 1906, and had a water-line length of 443 feet; beam, 57 feet; draft of 21-1/ feet, and a speed of 21 knots. She carried two 8-inch, eight 6-inch, twenty-two 12-pounders, four 3-pounders, and two torpedo tubes. Seven inches of Krupp armor protected the vessel amidships and four inches forward.

The Pallada was engaged in patrolling the Baltic with the Admiral Makarov when attacked by the submarines. She opened a strong fire on them, but was blown up by a torpedo launched by one of the submerged craft, while the Makarov escaped.

BRITISH CRUISER HAWKE SUNK

On October 15th, while the British cruisers Hawke and Theseus were patrolling the northern waters of the North Sea, they were attacked by a German submarine. The Hawke, a cruiser of 7,750 tons, commanded by Capt. H.P.E.T. Williams, was torpedoed and sank in eight minutes. Only seventy-three of her crew of 400 officers and men were saved.

BRITISH AVENGE AMPHION'S LOSS

Capt. Cecil H. Fox, who was in command of the British cruiser Amphion when she was destroyed by a German mine early in the war, had his revenge on October 17, when, in command of the cruiser Undaunted, he sank four German torpedo boat destroyers off the coast of Holland. Only 31 of the combined crews of 400 men were saved and these were taken as prisoners of war.