THE SEAFARERS OTHER WORKS BY A. CORBETT-SMITH THE FAR EAST Japan and the Pacific The Evolution of Modern China The New Woman of China THE PUBLIC HEALTH The Problem of the Nations (Sexual Disease and the Education of the Individual) MILITARY Scouting for Gunners Active Service Chats THE WORLD WAR The German Menace (Lectures and Essays since 1908) The Clash of Ideals The Retreat from Mons The Marne — and After POETRY Greeting and Farewell, and other Poems A Prologue for St. George's Day Elizabeth THE DRAMA The Chinese Drama, Yesterday and To-day Critical Essays Three One-Act Plays MUSIC (Literature) The Renaissance of English Folk Song The Chinese and their Music The Music of Grieg Music in the Services, and other Essays MUSIC (Compositions) Elizabeth (an Opera) On the Irish Shore (Concert Overture) Two Orchestral Suites on Irish Folk-Melodies Festal March in A, for Military Band Elizabethan Lyrics (Voice and Orchestra) Soldier Songs from " A Shropshire Lad " (do.) Under the Window (with Kate Greenaway) The Irish Guards (with Rudyard Kipling) The Battle of Jutland (a Naval Ballad) Songs (published in a definitive edition, " The Songs of 'Aston Tyrrold ' ") Photo: Alice Hughes. 3o^t THE SEAFARERS BY A. GORBETT-SMITH (Major, R.F.A.) With Portraits and Plans Let us be backed by God, and with the seas Which He has given for force impregnable, And with their helps only defend ourselves. In them and in ourselves our safety lies. CASSELL AND COMPANY, LTD London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne 1919 Uo My Comrades of The Senior Service and To All who Kept the Seas 1914—1918 In Gratitude. CONTENTS 1. THE MARINERS OF ENGLAND II. THE TRADITION OF THE ROYAL NAVY III. THE SEA AFFAIR . Co-operation Combat the nelson tradition mainly about jutland bank LIGHT CRAFT AND SINGLE ACTIONS . Convoy .... Communications . . the blockade of germany the bringers of bread . the avengers the mine -sweepers Author's Note . Appendix Index ship 1 41 69 76 94 115 135 159 173 180 190 210 230 249 268 273 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PORTRAITS Admiral Viscount Jellicoe . . Frontispiece FACING PAGE Admiral Sir David Beatty ... 50 Rear-Admiral Sir Reginald Yorke Tyrwhitt 98 Vice -Admiral Sir Roger Keyes . .166 PLANS Action in Kattegat, November 2, 1917 . 102 Diagram of North Sea Minefield . .216 THE SEAFARERS i THE MARINERS OF ENGLAND . . . . a chant for the sailors of all nations Of sea-captains young or old, and the males, and of all intrepid sailors, Of the few, very choice, taciturn, whom fate can never surprise nor death dismay, Pick'd sparingly without noise by thee, old ocean, chosen by thee, Thou sea that pickesl and cullest the race in time, and unitest nations. Suckled by thee, old husky nurse, embodying thee. Indomitable, untamed as thee. Walt Whitman. His Majesty's battle-cruiser Tiger lay at her moor- ings off Tynemouth. Some trifling, necessary repairs were going forward, and she had taken on board to do the work a number of civilian " hands " ; ' dockyard maties," as they call them in the Service. The job was but half finished when a wireless message came through that German ships were out in the North Sea. The Tiger promptly raised steam for 16-20 knots, slipped her cables, and " proceeded as requisite " to join her consorts. It was a very hurried departure ; so hurried, in fact, that she had no time to put her " dockyard maties ' on shore. Out into the North Sea the Tiger steamed, and aboard of her went, willy-nilly, the " dockyard maties." 2 THE SEAFARERS Now, when they were well out to sea and had begun to grasp the fact that there was something more serious in prospect than a little pleasure trip to Scarborough, these " maties " began to feel some- what nervous. In fact one of them created such a disturbance that he was incontinently clapped into a strait-waistcoat and strapped up to a bulk- head. One of the bluejackets making his way aft could not resist stopping to pass the time of day with the struggling captive. "You're one of them blighters," said he, 'wot sits at home in an armchair and asks ' Wot's the blinking Navy a'-doin' of?' Well, now you're darned well going to see wot the Navy's a-doin' of." And he did. At least that is what the men of the Royal Navy thought about it. The British Navy has accomplished once again its traditional task. It is the Sea Power of Britain Which, under God's Almighty Hand, has again de- cided the issue of this, the latest War of Liberation. Let there be no misunderstanding now, nor hereafter, on that point. It was, under the good providence of God, the Mariners of England who stood between Germany and the domination of the world. It was the Mariners of England who brought to their knees, one by one, the subject-allies of Germany, and, at the last, brought tottering to its fall the arch-enemy Empire itself. MARINERS OF ENGLAND 3 And as the achievement of that task has evoked the mightiest effort in a noble cause that a Nation has ever made since first the world was peopled, so is the story of it the proudest, the most exultant which has ever inspired tongue or pen to the telling of it. Well may one cry : O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, :- And monarchs to behold the swelling scene. The Mariners of England, and the Sea Power which they have wielded ! Yet the story can never be told. Invoke to your aid how you may the Arts of Music, of Poetry and of Painting, and still must you remain dumb before the splendour and majesty of the vision. For the vision is of the eternal Sea itself, and of that which the Sea has created, the Soul of an Island Race. It is that mighty Spiritual Force, of which the British Navy is but the visible embodiment, which has decided the issue. What has the Navy done ? And the reply is ''Everything." Nothing that has been accomplished by sea or by land would have been possible of accomplishment had not the British Navy made it so. And the British Navy, what is it ? How may we describe it? How should we think of it? We can neither understand what it is nor what it has done until we have learned a little of that which has gone to the making of it. And to do that we must understand — ourselves. For the British Navy is not a thing apart ; not some curious exotic growth; not some alien race grafted on to our 4 THE SEAFARERS common stock. It is the offspring of our parentage, it is of one family with us. And if any man would seek a privilege which he holds to be prouder than the calling of our Seafarers blood-brothers then he is no man of ours. To speak, then, of the British Navy* we must have in our hearts to mean a far greater power than those grim warships of the Northern mists and all that never-ending list of vessels, down to the ice- breakers of the White Sea and the gunboats of the African rivers and lakes, which fly the White Ensign. When you have visualised those ships of the Royal Navy in all their astonishing variety and the men who man them, you will have glimpsed but a small fraction of the mighty Sea Service of ours which is the real British Navy. The Merchant Seamen For the foundation of the Royal Navy, the very heart-centre of it to-day as it has ever been, is the Merchant Service. The big ships and the little ships, from the lordly Atlantic liner to the old lumbering G-knot tramp, which go a-threshing to and fro across the Seven Seas ; these, with the skippers and the mates and the men of them, aye, and their wives and their kiddies ; these of the Mercantile Marine are one family with us and are of the British Navy. Three hundred years ago there sailed out of Plymouth Sound a little merchant ship called the * The terms "British" Navy and "Royal" Navy are not synony- mous. It will he noted that throughout the volume a definite dis- tinction is made between the two. THE MERCHANT SEAMEN 5 Elizabeth. A couple of hundred ton she was, and she carried ten little guns aboard her. But her decks were so laden high with merchandise and trading gear that of the ten guns she could, if need were, only bring into action five of them. John Pascoe was the name of her skipper, and he was a man of the West Country. Thirty-six men all told made the crew, and these, too, were of Devon and Cornwall. For three days the Elizabeth slipped along, her sails full set to a following nor' -easterly breeze, out through the Narrow Seas down past Ushant bound for the coasts of Barbary. And on the morning of the fourth day she sighted three Algerine pirate craft newly sped from harrying the coasts of the Bristol Channel. The three pirates — and they carried lifty guns between them — closed the little Elizabeth and sum- moned her to surrender. But Pascoe called to his men of the West Country, and they cast loose the lashings of their live little guns, and they manned the tops of their little merchant ship, and so the fight began. All through the long hours of that midsummer day did they strive — for their ship, for their gear, for the honour of the Hag, English and Scots crosses interwoven, which lluttered overhead. Seven times did the pirates swarm inboard of her ; seven times did the men of Devon hurl them back into the sea. This way and that swayed that ki bloody and cruel bickering ' until, at the last, with the setting of the sun, when the men of Devon looked once more to greet their enemies, behold, one of the pirate 6 THE SEAFARERS craft had sunk and the other two had turned tail and (led. Now the little Elizabeth was a merchant ship. Four years ago there sailed out of Holland, bound for Thames-mouth, a merchant tramp called the Avocct. And the name of her skipper was Brennell. She, too, carried a crew of thirty odd men, but the only armament aboard was a matter of three rifles and a handful of rockets such as they put up at the Crystal Palace for Brock's benefit night. Three hours or so out of Rotterdam there swooped down to attack her three pirate craft in the shape of three Hun aeroplanes ; one a big fighting-machine, the other two smaller scouts. Each carried a machine- gun and a goodly store of bombs. For a space of thirty minutes did the Huns loose their bombs over and around the little Avocct ; but such was Brennell's skill in seamanship, so cunningly did he manoeuvre his ship inward and outward upon a zigzag course, that barely a single bomb found its target. And in those thirty minutes thirty-five bombs were hurled downward. So, too, did the deck hands of the Avocct strive to repel the murderous attack. With their three puny rifles they blazed away at the aircraft as one shoots at the screaming gull borne down the gale. And the rifles grew red-hot to the hand so that no man might hold them. And the handful of rockets were loosed off the while the flying-men laughed in derision under the canopy of green and crimson stars. But one laughed too long, for a rocket sent him banking heavily over so that he might hardly win to his balance again. THE MERCHANT SEAMEN 7 And now the Huns, having loosed all their bombs, swung down to a closer attack. At eight hundred feet off the port beam * the fighting-machine opened fire with the machine-gun. And through the hail of lead that swept the Avocet from fo'c'sle to poopf the helmsman held to his wheel and the master still conned his ship. And with naked fists the deck hands fought on. Now all seemed at an end, for men dropped here and there about the deck or under the poor cover which wooden hatches might give. But away to the horizon there appeared a smudge of smoke, and with it the Huns turned over and away back to their lair by Zeebrugge or ever the avenging destroyers could close to range. But Brennell and his men had fought the fight through, and — the Avocet was of the Merchant Service. Four years ago — a little merchant ship ! Three hundred years ago — a little merchant ship ! Three hundred years ago ! But even then was the Mercantile Marine of England old in years and in wisdom. Even then was it the envy and admira- tion of the world, just as it is to-day. We fought Philip of Spain and the Spanish Armada in 1588 with 197 ships. Men-of-war of the Royal Navy ? Not so. No fewer than 103 of them were of the Merchant Service. Drake sailed into Cadiz Harbour to singe the * J'url beam, the Left-hand side of the ship, looking forrard. t Forecastle, I he forward part of llic ship. Poop, the slcrn of I lie ship. S THE SEAFARERS King of Spain's beard with 40 odd ships. Men-of- war ? Just G ships of the 40 belonged to the Royal Navy. The rest ? They were merchant ships. Would you learn how a " well-informed neutral observer " (even in those days they existed) spoke of the English mariners, merchant seamen for the most part, in the campaign of the Armada ? Read, then, the remarks of the Venetian Ambassador, a seafarer like the remainder of his countrymen. " These people fight to the death," he wrote, "and it is their habit before they sail to swear to one another that they will fire the ship rather than yield themselves prisoners, so resolute is this race in battle." I seem to hear an echo of that tribute in the rousing cheers and blasts of syrens which greeted the W andlc and her gallant crew as she steamed into the Pool of London with a list on her after sinking, unarmed collier though she was, a German submarine. Drake, Frobisher, Ralegh, Hawkins, Grenville, Willoughby, aye, and scores of others like them, they went a- voyaging through the uncharted Seas, t hose gallant gentlemen, adventurers all, not on your men-o'-war but in little cockle-shells of mer- chantmen. (How often, I wonder, do our American cousins recall the fact that the colonisation of Virginia by Walter Ralegh was the foundation of the United States !) Who can study unmoved the splendour of the pageant of sea-service wrought in those days ? To the farthest corners of the world the Merchant Sea- men of England bore their Country's Flag. Twice THE MERCHANT SEAMEN 9 was the globe circumnavigated : the foundation of the British Empire in India was laid : round the north of Norway and through the White Sea was a trade route created with Russia : the fishing and seal trade of the Newfoundland Banks : a regular commerce with the West Indies and the Spanish Main : the Orinoco River explored : the Cape of Good Hope rounded — and then the half is not told. Those were indeed true words which Pietro Mocenigo, another Ambassador of Venice, spoke : — ' This Kingdom has for its territory the ocean, whereupon it trades with the universe, or establishes, its dominions with the movable forts of its ships, which, uniting force with speed, diffuse to the bound- aries of the world the glorious trafhckings of their own valour." And with the words I see dream-like the picture of a great merchant explorer, Henry Hudson, as he sailed from Greenwich on May Day, 1607, to find a north-west passage through the ice to China. Sailing in a little ship of 80 tons with a crew of but ten men and a boy, his own son, to man her. The stark wonder of the venture ! And yet he was back again the next year fitting out a second expedition, the Discovery, of 55 tons. Doomed though they were, he and his little son, to meet a cruel death in the frozen North, yet his name lives on through the years by the Inland Sea and the Strait which he discovered. Fighting men ever were the merchant seamen of England. They had need to be, for in the old days, the only protection to their ships and gear io THE SEAFARERS lay in their own cool heads, stout hearts and strong arms. The records of Edward III., which tell of six hundred years ago, show how the merchantmen would put to sea without any armed convoy to shepherd them. "Let them fend for themselves," said the paternal Government of those days. So also was it ordained in 1914, but this time with disastrous results until the Powers that Be in Whitehall made another ruling. Not because the spirit and hardihood of the seamen was any less than it was (is there any need to remark it ?) but because of the conditions of U-boat piracy with which they had to grapple, and because now the food supply from over-seas was vital to our people as it never had been before. In the Napo- leonic wars, with only ten million souls to feed, the country was self-supporting. The old days of the " wind-jammer " may have passed away, but there is need of seamanship with steam as with sail. If any doubt it let him turn to the story of the Ortega and of Douglas Kinneir, her skipper. Running down the South American coast to make the far southern passage the Ortega s look-out sighted astern a German cruiser fast overhauling them. As ordained, the Ortega had to " fend for herself," for she carried no guns aboard, and, in any case, the enemy warship could have settled the business by lying outside the merchantman's range and pounding her to death. Kinneir on the bridge rang down for full steam ahead. 1 Every ounce you can get out of her and a lot THE MERCHANT SEAMEN n over," said he, " if you have to rip up the decks for firing." And the engineers and the stokers heard the call and buckled to it. Kinneir eagerly scanned his chart. " Keep 'em off for a couple of hours and we'll beat 'em," he muttered. And at the turn of the two hours just as the cruiser opened fire Kinneir swung his ship over and drove straight for a gloomy channel and a tide racing strong beneath heavy frowning cliffs. The Second Officer by his side gripped the bridge- rail in amazement. For the channel had never been charted, and it lay unknown, unsailed by man. Once, twice had the surveyors of the sea attempted the passage to map its dangers, but so threatening was it with cross-currents and hidden reefs that it was not worth the toil. Straight into the unknown drove the Ortega, and Kinneir ringing down again for slower speed conned her in. In beneath the beetling cliffs which seemed to roll sullenly backward to the touch of the hardy adventurers, stemming the edge of a foaming current, twisting to the cruel teeth of some jagged rock half hidden, sounding her way foot by foot, so did Kinneir guide his ship. And the German captain holding his cruiser at the entrance danced upon his deck and shook his list in baffled fury. For he had met with a man of the sea, and he learned then, if* never before, that no nation of land-folk can breed such men. Steadily onward steamed the Ortega in and out, this way and that, until at last the dazzling sunlight of open sea caught and illumined with llaming gold 12 THE SEAFARERS the little ensign fluttering ever overhead, and the Ortega had won through. And Avhen they came to look at her bows not a foot of her paint-work had been scraped away. Slowly through the years was the maritime power of Britain welded together by the unconscious striv- ing of her mariners. Those who will may study the records, and no more absorbing story can be told. For many a long day in our history were the merchant seamen and their ships the true Royal Navy of the realm, summoned to fight by Royal Command. They came, pressed men and volunteers, to give of their best. For prize money and gain ?— mostly perhaps ; for the honour of the flag ? — possibly ; for the love of adventure, ever the British craving ? — so I would wish to believe. And they lived and worked and fought under conditions of incredible hardship ; conditions of sickness, of horrible food, of cramped dwelling space, in Arctic and Tropic seas, seven years, maybe, to a commission during which there was never a sight of their own native land. \\c look back now and can see only the glamour of those days. Our hearts throb to the magic of Nelson's name and to all that his immortality means. We watch breathless with awe as Hawke leads his fleet into Quiberon Bay through a howling gale on a lee shore. We sail in spirit with Anson on his amazing venture as one by one his consorts fail him, and yet his undaunted soul wins through.* * The story of Commodore George Anson's voyage in the Centurion (1740-1744) is perhaps the most remarkable in our Naval annals. The narrative created a furore throughout Europe, THE MERCHANT SEAMEN 13 Rodney in the West Indies ; Hood in the Medi- terranean ; the names of them and of a hundred other sea-captains tell how the Sea Power of Britain was built up. But what of the mariners of England upon whose bodies the admirals builded ? Who sings of them, save in songs and ballads designed to weave a rosy spell over their work and hide the squalor of their daily lives. " Yeo ho ! for the life of a sailor," they sing. Yet it is but common justice that we should pause sometimes to remember. To remember, for instance, that when the seamen mutinied at the Nore (most of us vaguely recall the incident), they sought only in their demands just a few trifles to make their lives more tolerable : a little better food, fresh vegetables when in port, an occasional day ashore, the non-stoppage of their pay when lying wounded (imagine having to mutiny to redress such a grievance as that !). " The Lower deck," John Masefield has remarked, ' was the home of every vice, every baseness, every misery. The life lived there was something like the life of a negro slave who happened to be housed in a gaol." Yes, it is well that we should remember these things. For only in remembering them can we learn very dimly to appreciate the inborn qualities of the breed and race which have made England and the Empire what they are to-day. Again, it was only very gradually that the Royal especially in Germany, where " everyone was at work on it with grammars and dictionaries." It is obtainable in " Everyman's Library." i 4 THE SEAFARERS Navy was created into the fighting Senior Service that we have known in the Great War. When Charles the First was King there were some 1,000 merchant ships in the country's service which were held avail- able for war duties when called upon. Of these, it is interesting now to note, 400 were engaged in the coal trade. On the Thames alone, from Gravcsend to London, there were no fewer than twenty thousand mariners (so it was estimated), who were liable to be called up. In 1914 the personnel of the Royal Navy numbered 145,000 men. In 1918 it numbered 440,000, and most of those additional men had gone to it from the Mercantile Marine. It should be a fascinating thing to watch this building of the Royal Navy and Mercantile Marine. As fascinating as the building of a house which an architect has modelled to be our home. Here I may only set in place a few guide-posts to mark the planning of the structure, and in the hope that those who see them may turn with quickened interest to many another volume of our Sea Story. But if any man still doubts the value of the Mercantile Marine to the Empire in the Great War and how the merchant seamen have striven and died as members of one great family with us, let him think over those figures which I have just quoted, and then consider these :* During the four years or so of the War, 2,475 merchant ships of ours have been sunk under their crews by the enemy : these, with 670 fishing vessels, * The figures quoted, to October 31, 1918, are given on the authority of the First Lord of the Admiralty. THE FISHER FOLK 15 have meant a total of 3,145 crews turned adrift. In short 15,000 merchant seamen of ours have perished, giving their lives that England might live. How is the Nation going to show its gratitude ? How repay a little of the debt ? The Fisher Folk So there is the Royal Navy which flies the White Ensign ; and there is the Mercantile Marine which flies the Blue and the Red Ensigns. But with these you are only but beginning to learn the meaning of the Sea Service which goes to the building of the British Navy. In August, '14, and as, with the passing days, the incredible rumour of Hun murders on the High Seas grew to a dreadful certainty, there rallied to the call another " band of brothers." From the mist-shrouded headlands and treacherous tides of the far Northern isles, from the grim, for- bidding towns and tiny grey villages that line the Scottish coast from Wick to Berwick and from Kirkcudbright to Dunnet Head there came the dour Scots fisherfolk, men, wives, lasses and bairns. " Aye," cried they, " 'tis the call o' the Lord, and we maun follow it. Yon murdering devils ha' smirched the seas. Tis we maun mak' them clean again." And they turned awhile from their nets (though not wholly, for the Scots are canny folk), and they took aboard strange weapons (which in time they came almost to worship), and set about a new manner i6 THE SEAFARERS of fishing for a new, strange kind of fish. A fish that carries death within its jaws. From Bamborough Castle and Tynemouth, from the smoke-laden Hartlepools and the nestling red- roofed villages of the Yorkshire Ridings down to Ilumber mouth and the Wash the fisherfolk rallied to the Call. Grimsby and Yarmouth heard it, the men of Essex and Kent, round the coast-line to the Lizard where the Cornishmen turned again to their luggers, just as they manned them in the smuggling days of old. It was the S.O.S. from their brethren of the sea, and the Call was picked up by the Seafarers. Long years ago, when the Eighth Henry ruled this land of ours, we were fighting a never-ending war with Frenchmen and pirates. And whenever there was the need, and English ships in the Narrow Seas were faring badly, out from the south-coast ports there sped the fisherfolk leaving their wives and kiddies to " carry on." ' We've come aboard," they said, " to serve the guns." And they manned the guns where the gun crews had fallen by dead or dying. And their womenfolk would sail their little fishing-smacks sixteen or twenty miles out to sea, and run home again laughing before the wind, chased by French privateers. Four hundred years ago ! And what was the story that they told in 1918 ? It was the early morning of June 20. Five hundred miles away to the north-west of the Shet- lands, close against the edge of the Arctic Circle, THE FISHER FOLK 17 there lie famous fishing-grounds. In the clear twilight of a Northern summer's dawn six fishing- trawlers lay hove-to, clearing away their fishing gear and stowing it inboard. The night's catch had been a good one, and the little craft rode heavily to the swell, close packed to the decks and over with the gleaming fish. In the deck-house of No. 1 Trawler Lieutenant John F. MacCabe, R.N.V.R., sat by a table sipping a cup of steaming cocoa, the while he studied a course from a greasy, tattered chart. From the deck the clumping of heavy sea-boots and the grinding of steam-winches told that his morning watch was at hand when, admiral of the tiny squadron, he must take his command safely to port. Forrard, the look-out man was in wordy argu- ment with the ship's boy, a youngster of fifteen, on the respective merits of the Adriatic and Malacca Straits as fishing-grounds (they had seen mine- sweeping service in both places) when " Yon's a strange beastie, ah'm thinking," said Look Out, pointing away to the port beam. A dull swirl of water edged with silver broke away from the back of some creature of the sea as it came to the surface some 7,000 yards away. " Gawd ! " gasped the boy. " What the 'ell is it ? " " Object, porrt bow," called Look Out through funnelled hands. MacCabe raised his head as a medley of strange jargon, oaths and excited discussion sent the gulls screaming in chorus away from their breakfast. • 1 tell ye 'tis a U-boat," 18 THE SEAFARRRS kw Ye're daft, ye fule. What budy over saw a boat Tor under water the likes o' yon." " Aye, mebbe. And ye'll say, nae doot, what way she came oot there. Just drooped oot i'rac the sky likely." MacCabe hoisted himself on to the tiny bridge and seized a telescope. One look was enough, but it brought a long whistle of astonishment to his lips. Then a short, swift command. The signal cones were run up. " Steam full pressure. Line ahead on No. 1. Three cables length. Course so and so." * Never, I dare swear, did the ships of the Second Battle Squadron swing into "line ahead" with finer precision than did those half-dozen little weather-scarred trawlers of the Scots fishermen. And, as they took the line, a great column of water shot up from the burst of a 6-inch shell 50 yards astern of the leading ship. No longer a doubt whether it was a sea-serpent or an enemy ship. But still men rubbed their eyes with amazement as they looked at her. Who, indeed, had ever seen an under-watcr boat " the likes o' yon ! ' The length of her no one could gauge, but with her massive conning-tower, her masts, and heavy armament — two 6-inch guns, and two smaller ones — she seemed more like a small cruiser than a submarine. Swift enough to steam rings round the trawlers ; strong enough to blow them out of the water as she pleased. * Line ahead, ships following in succession. Cable length, a " cable " indicates about 200 yards ; thus the trawlers would be at about ono yards interval, THE FISHER FOLK 19 And now, as the trawlers began to plough heavily along astern of their leader — oh, so slowly, it seemed — the submarine closed to shorter range and opened fire with every gun that would bear. And gallantly the trawler-men clapped-to the breeches of their little pea-shooters to return the fire as best they might. " Ye'll be wanting fish to y're breakfasts, mebbe," called one. "Wcel, ye can mak a braw meal frae that yin " — and a fat mackerel went skimming over the side, hurled in derision towards the enemy. Mighty waterspouts from the bursting shells soared heavenward around and over the leading trawler, drenching the decks, carrying herrings, dabs and mackerel swirling through the scuppers. And MacCabe clung to the rail with one hand, megaphone in the other, eyes fixed on the enemy, watching and answering every point of the helm he might make. It was seamanship once again which must decide. Six hundred yards astern the second of the line pushed steadily after her leader. And full across her decks, from her squat bows to her square-cut after structure, there swept a hailstorm of deadly shrapnel. Down drops the gunner-hand, a great gash across the forehead. And, on the moment, a second clambers cursing over the slippery fish to take his place. The look-out man forrard suddenly gives a choking gasp, claps hand to throat, and pitches heavily backward into the sea. One after another the men of No. 2 go down under the storm of lead. But ever the master holds 2o THE SEAFARERS the wheel, swinging it point by point over to the lender's signal. And ever is there a man in place to heave a cartridge into the tiny gun, swing the breech to and fire. The submarine alters her course in a new man- oeuvre — to work ahead of the line. But the Lieu- tenant, acting-Admiral, is ready for it. Over on the new course steers the U-boat, and as promptly is the challenge answered. Never for a moment does the little flotilla lose its formation. With superb handling and consummate seamanship the trawlers are swung over to keep the enemy ever on the beam that the tiny guns may still be brought to bear. Sternly, methodically, do the men work. Sud- denly, with a freshening wind from the right quarter comes the looked-for chance to pour out a screen of smoke from the boxes. With muttered curses (can. you not hear him ?) the U-boat commander needs must alter course again to work round the black cloud which veils his prey. But now the hour grows desperate for the fisher- men. It is " back to the wall " once again for that breed of men who are ever at their greatest at the end of a losing fight. Fifteen rounds of shell left to the leading trawler, ten rounds to No. 2, twenty maybe to each of the others. Every man of No. 2 is down wounded, some are dead. But still there is a gunner left to carry on with hands which drip blood as they jerk the spent cartridge from the breech of the poor little out- ranged gun. Eight rounds left, and — " Prepare to ram," signals the leader. THE FISHER FOLK 21 The end at last. Well, 'twas a good light, and " By God, she's closing us," mutters MacCabc in excitement. " They'll never be such fools," and he props the telescope against the bridge screen. The submarine commander, cursing (one imagines) at the delay in finishing a trifling job, began to steer in his ship to deal the knock-out blow. " Geddes," MacCabc hailed his gunner through the megaphone, " she's closing us. Canny, lad, and you'll get her. Aim forrard." " Aye, aye, sir," sang Geddes as he twirled the elevating gear. Crash! And a shell burst clean amidships No. 1, hurling MacCabe stunned to the deck. But the gunner of No. 2 had seen the enemy manoeuvre. " The Lord hae delivered him tae us," and spitting on his hands he rammed a shell home. " One, two, three, four," he slowly counted, and fired. The shell smashed in on the tail of the submarine as she steamed straight for the line. " Mistimed her speed," he muttered, ' but th' next time." And home into the breech went another shell. A sudden burst of flame from the U-boat's bows, and dimly through the smoke the tense watchers from the trawlers saw the formal 6-inch gun heave up and plunge over into the sea. Geddes had " gone cannily." A mighty Scottish cheer rang over the waters. Round swung the submarine to bring her aft gun to bear. 22 THE SEAFARERS Eight rounds, Geddes, my lad ! Eight rounds left. Canny, boy, canny ! Crack went the little gun once more, and — fair and true into the base of the conning-tower burst the shell. Another burst of flame ; a great column of smoke sweeping upwards, drifting over the sea, shrouding the U-boat. Slowly, sullenly the black cloud melted into the silvery light ; thinned into a shimmering veil of mist ; vanished. And only the gulls and the sea- birds skimming downwards hovered for a moment to mark another ocean grave. " This was a fisherman's fight," wrote Lieutenant MacCabe concluding his despatch. "And without doubt they put up a right stout one. I deem it an honour to have been in command of them." And so say all of us ! The Island Race From the seafarers of our Island coast-line we turn to the Fourth Estate of the British Navy. And the fourth is the greatest of all, for almost may Ave say that it embraces this entire Sea Service of ours. How to define it I know not, for how may we set a boundary in words to that which is of the spirit ? The professional Service of the Royal Navy we can understand, and the officers and the men who are born and bred in it. The Mercantile Marine, the Commerce and the carrying trade of the Empire, that, too, we appreciate just as we understand the folk who seek a livelihood from the harvesting of THE ISLAND RAGE 23 the sea. But how may we understand rightly the Call which summons the tens of thousands of lands- men to a sea service ; or the nobility of spirit which pulses through the veins of our womenkind, land- folk though they be, when a cruel sea-death beckons them beneath the waves ? It is the story of these brothers and sisters of ours which has been the wonder of the world in these four years of the Great War. It is this story of an Island Race which will throb through the centuries to come. Perchance it has been the last fight in which, as an Island Empire, we shall ever strive. Well, at the least, it has been to us a worthy one. We have wrought, I dare to think, better than we can now imagine. We may look back through the years with confidence and, invoking " the spirits of our fathers that start from every wave," point with pride to this our temper and handiwork of later days. " As it was in the beginning, is now." Turn down the scroll of our Island history, glance here and there and you shall read how the landsmen ever hearkened to the Call of the Sea. In the dim, far-off days of the mighty Saxon King Who did first Willi prescient wisdom from the slips set free The keels, those far forerunners of thy Fleet : the men who served the ships, trading and Navy — there was no distinction between them — were for the most part landsmen. Through the summer months they kept the seas, but with the time of harvest they returned to their lands and holdings, for they were farmers and husbandmen. And so 24 THE SEAFARERS through the frost-bound winter days to the awakening of spring and the sowing of the seed. William of Normandy won to a landing and the Kingship of this realm because he remembered what Saxon Harold had forgotten, the meaning and use of Sea Power. Richard of the Lion Heart, the first of our King Admirals to adventure an English fleet into distant seas, won his victory over the Saracen warships by the valour of landsmen, soldiers and sailors too as they were. All through those earlier years of our history you may find amongst our Island folk the steady growth of a realisation, vague only at first, that the sea was all in all to us as a people. Keep then the sea that is the wall of England : And then is England kept by God His hand ; wrote an old chronicler five hundred years ago.* It was only when we failed to remember this that disaster and defeat overtook us. But it was in the Great Age of adventure under the Tudor Kings, Henry VII. to Elizabeth, that the Call of the Sea swept like a gale through England. Over the heads of the coast-dwellers was the spindrift borne, far away inland. And the salt spray beat upon the casements of the town- dwellers, of the folk who had never looked upon the majesty of sea- waves and recked little of the * From the famous " Libel of English Policy," published circa 1420. The introduction runs : — " Here beginneth the Prologue of the processe of the Libel of English policie, exhorting all England to kcepe the sea . . . : showing what profite cometh thereof and also wind worship and salvation to England, and to all English- men." The "Libel" is reprinted in " Hakluyt's Voyages" 'Everyman's Library"), vol. i., page 174. THE ISLAND RAGE 25 faring of ships. And the tang of the salt filled their nostrils, and the savour of it was heady as new wine, so that men turned from the peace of the countryside and the busy hum of the cities to make strange ventures in the lands of the Golden West. Students of the law, apprentices and clerks, men from the loom and the plough, priests and herdsmen, miners and Court exquisites, all were represented in the tiny ships that beat onward across the Atlantic or breasted the ice-floes of the stern Arctic seas. The story tells even of a reverend Canon of St. Paul's Cathedral who forsook his cloistered ease to go a-voyaging, a gentleman ad- venturer, to the coasts of Guinea. And how cruel the seafaring in those tiny ships must have been ! The Gulden Hind, which carried Drake and his men around the world, was but 200 tons burthen. A modern submarine displaces 1,000 tons submerged. Turn, now, fur a moment to August, 1914, four hundred years later, and note how the landsmen hearkened once again to the call. At the opening of the War, nothing more aston- ished officers and ratings of the Royal Navy than the odd (to a sailor) assortment of men who rolled up to serve in the Grand Fleet. Enlisting at Ports- mouth, Devonport, and other of the naval bases, they would be allotted to various ships, there to be told off for jobs. You picture the commander of one of the light cruisers sitting at a table on deck the while a long 26 THE SEAFARERS queue of these lw hostility " men (as the Navy terms them) passes before him. " Well, my lad," to the first man, " what was your job in civil life ? " " Stableman, sir. " " Stableman ! " You wouldn't think that the Royal Navy has much use for stablemen, would you ? But doubt- less the man had heard tell of the Horse Marines, and so he would be welcome. " Next ! What was your job, my lad ? ' " Ah was a market gardener "—this in broad Somerset. " Good lord ! " ejaculates the Commander. Well, the Navy is not often at a loss, and the master-at-arms, after turning over the problem for a moment, suggested that the lad from Somerset might well turn a hand to weighing out the potatoes for the ship's company. All the morning the Commander worked con- scientiously down the line. Compositors, jew's- harp makers, mortuary attendants, match dippers, skin dressers, dairy farmers, clerical robe makers, and brokers' men — the Commander staggered blindly down into the ward-room at 11.30 for the stiff est cocktail the mess-man could concoct ; 11.40 saw him back again. Carpet-menders, pedieurists, and pawnbrokers' assistants ; perambulator makers and potboys, pickle- bottlers and theatre " chuckers-out " — so they passed by. The last of the line came to the table. ' Well, sir, I was a painter," he answered. : Thank the lord ! ' gasped the Commander, THE ISLAND RACE 27 almost past speech. " A man who can do a decent bit of work at last ! " So the master-at-arms escorted the painter forrard, gave him some pots of paint and some brushes, and left him to carry on at a gun-shield. Half-wav through the afternoon the Commander strolled forrard out of curiosity to see how the man had done his job. All over the gun shield was pictured some amazing post-impressionist sunset, Avhile pots and paint lay sprawling about the deck in a most glorious mess. It was the last straw. ' Painter ! " thundered the Commander. ' Painter, did you say ? What in heaven's name was the painting job you did before the war ? ' ' Well, sir," said the man, " I — er — er — well, I generally used to exhibit at the Royal Academy." Now these " hostility men " — the market gar- deners, match-dippers, and the like — were volun- teers, not pressed men. And you would think that when it came to doing their bit they would have preferred to do it with the good solid earth under their feet. If they really wanted to get wet they knew that they could get all the wet they wanted, and more, in the trenches in Flanders. Why they should prefer to go bumping about on the breezy, briny, billowy ocean, remains a mystery ; or it would remain a mystery did we not realise some- thing of the innate sea-breed of the men, the cen- turies-old tradition of an Island Race which runs in the veins of them and, so I hold, of each one of us. There is hardly an incident in the sea-warfare 28 THE SEAFARERS of these last years which has not had a precedent in former sea-wars of ours. But again I remark, in nothing has the spirit of the race shone forth in brighter splendour than in its response to the Call of the Sea. Penetrate into the most unlikely districts — the horrible, verminous slums of Sheffield, with a family living in each corner of a room ; the teeming squalor of the Leeds quarters ; the drab joylessness of the Potteries — everywhere you will hear the same tale of the men who have gone a-seafaring. Certainlv not in great numbers as numbers go, for the Navy at its greatest point of expansion in 1918 was but a very small Service, in number of personnel, be- side the seven millions of the Land Army. It counted, as I have told, less than half a million men. But rather in point of percentage. You who chance to read can, I am sure, reckon amongst friends and acquaintances many a man who, living a land life with never a thought ex- pressed of the sea, yet hearkened to the Call. Men who fled, maybe, from the musty study of the Law, or the actor-haunted Bodegas of the Strand, or the whirling presses of newspaper-land, to revel in the unceasing toil and danger of a motor-launch in the Dover Patrol or of a mine-sweeper in the frozen Shetland seas. Glancing back again into our history, some of the most remarkable instances of landsmen turning to sea- warfare may be found in the armies of Richard Cromwell. In 1653 the first Commissioners of the Admiralty were appointed by Act of Parliament, and out of the eleven men so appointed no fewer THE ISLAND RAGE 29 than eight were Army officers : four generals, three colonels, and a major. Of these Robert Blake became the most famous. Mr. and Mrs. John Citizen of to-day recall his name principally from the exploit narrated in the popular song, " The Admiral's Broom." But Robert Blake first won to fame as a soldier. He served in the Army until he was fifty years of age, and then went to sea for the first time in his life. But by his service afloat he is accounted one of the two or three greatest sea-captains that England has ever known. Then there were Deane, Monck, and Montagu, all Army men, and they all became fine seamen. "It is a significant fact," says Sir William Laird Clowes, " that when, under the Commonwealth, Great Britain entered upon a more ambitious and difficult naval policy than she had previously dared to essay, the chiefs who best served her at sea were, by training, land officers, and consequently men of wider attainments and more general education and experience than belonged to the regular sea officers of the time."* Prince Rupert, a grandson of James I., another soldier and sailor, was indeed an "Admirable Crich- ton." He served on shore in the Civil War, was a barrister-at-law, one of the first Fellows of the Royal Society, commanded for a time a squadron of semi-pirates, was a notable scientist, became our Commander-in-Chief at sea in the third Dutch war, and was Governor of Windsor Castle. •" The Royal Navy. A History." W. Laird Clowes. Vol. ii., pat>e 'J7. 30 THE SEAFARERS Thus far the men of the Island Race. How shall we tell of the nobility of soul that has made our women so worthy to be the mothers, wives, and sweethearts of those sea-heroes ? Or, rather, should we not say that has inspired the seamen to deeds and to deaths worthy of their womenfolk ? A merchant tramp put into a British port one morning and unloaded her cargo. She had run the gauntlet of a submarine attack and it had been a very close thing. Her crew was not a British one, save for the skipper and mate, and when it came to clearing port to return in ballast to Norway the men refused to go aboard and sail. The skipper argued and cursed them for chicken- livered rabbits, but failed to move them. Down to the wharfside came the skipper's wife : learned how things were. " All right," she said, " just wait a bit." In a quarter of an hour she was back again, a porter trundling a box in front of her. " Now," she called to the deck-hands, " I'm coming on this trip along o' my old man. An' what's more, I've got my best hat inside that box, and I'll see the Huns somewhere before they get that." And the deck-hands clambered back inboard with their tails between their legs, shamed by the pluck and spirit of an Englishwoman. " The women have been splendid," is one of the remarks which has been uttered most frequently by the statesmen or publicists of all Allied coun- tries. We know well how they have filled the places of our men and " carried on " in the most THE ISLAND RACE 31 arduous tasks 011 the land, in factories, and else- where. But it is, I am certain, not fully realised how gloriously our women have faced death upon the high seas at the instance of the Hun murderers. Not once nor twice, but scores of times, from the sinking of the Aguila in March, 1915, when the stewardess and the only woman passenger were murdered, the latter by gun-fire, down to the last awful outrage in 1918. How many of our women have been thus done to death on the seas I do not know — during the first two years of the submarine warfare the num- ber was nearly 1,500 — but this I do know. In every case where a ship was carrying any women on board of her, and where the records remain, you will find testimony to their splendid courage. " The women took their places in the boats as calmly as if they were going down to their meals, and when in the boats they began singing."* That is only typical. There was a ship of ours called the Llandovery Castle — a hospital ship in the Canadian Medical Service. On a midsummer night of 1918 she was inward bound to Liverpool from Halifax, N.S., with a medical staff and crew on board, 258 souls. She was torpedoed without warning 11G miles from land, and sank ; 234 perished with her. Amongst the staff were fourteen Sisters of the Canadian Nursing Service. Each one of them had gone to France from Canada on active service with * Testimony of the captain of the liner City of Birmingham, torpedoed without warning, November 27th, 19X6, 32 THE SEAFARERS the first Canadian contingent, and had worked in casualty clearing stations under shell-fire. Now they were making the voyage to and from Canada by way of holiday and rest. Of these Sisters the senior in service was Mar- garet Marjorie Fraser. And there was never a Canadian — nor any man that had met her — but held Sister Fraser in dear, affectionate regard. To her, friend and enemy if wounded were alike — men to be tended with all her skill, all her pity. Many scores of Germans had passed beneath her care ; many a cup of water had she held to their parched lips ; many the letters she had written for them, dying messages to their people in Germany. But these things were only the proud duty of every member of the Nursing Service of the Red Cross — save in Germany. The ship was struck ; within ten minutes she had gone down. But in those few brief minutes the fourteen Sisters, clad, most of them, in night- dress and slippers, had been mustered on deck and placed in a boat under the charge of two or three seamen and a sergeant of the Medical Service. Into the unknown terror of that black, seething waste of waters the little boat was lowered from the davits. With a couple of axes the seamen slash at the ropes to set her free as she takes the water. One axe breaks ; then the other. And the boat grinds and crashes against the side of the sinking ship, tossed this way and that on the waves. " Do you think there's any chance ? ' said Nurse Fraser to the sergeant. And she spoke as THE ISLAND RAGE 33 calmly, as dispassionately as though she were asking the hour of day. And the sergeant in silence shook his head. Now the ropes give close by the runners, and the boat is free. Free ! But no human skill can drive her away from the cruel suction of the ship. The oars snap and break as the men try to fend her away from the side. Slowly, remorselessly, the boat with her precious freight is drawn by a giant hand towards the stern of the ship. With a moaning crash the after-deck breaks and dissolves into fragments. Against a last pitiful effort the boat is dragged into the whirlpool, oversets and is gone. And with her, never rising again, until that Day when the Sea shall give up its Dead, sank the fourteen devoted women. The sergeant was the only one from the boat who was saved. But this has he left upon record. From the moment when they were brought on deck to face the certainty of a cruel death never a whimper, never a murmur was heard from any one of those noble Sisters. They went to their deaths gallantly and proudly as British women have ever faced death on the Seas, whether under the Hand of God or at the bloody will of a murderer. True daughters of the great Sea Mother, who set within you the heroic unfettered Soul, your bodies are at rest upon her gracious bosom. But through the ages your Spirit shall live on in flaming splendour to guide and inspire the sons and daughters that shall come hereafter.* * I had thought to demand that there should be included in the Terms of Peace to be dictated provision whereby there should D 34 THE SEAFARERS You, Canada ! You will not forget. But lest we of England, we of other Nations in our Common- wealth, who also sorrow proudly for our Dead — lest we should sometimes fail a little in remembrance, here I set forth in poor tribute the Roll of this your Sacrifice : — Christine Campbell. Carola Josephine Douglas. Alexina Dussault. Minnie Follette. Margaret Jane Fortescue. Margaret Marjorie Fraser. Minnie Katherine Gallaher. Jessie Mabel McDiarmid. Mary Agnes McKenzie. Rena McLean. MacBelle Sampson. Gladys Irene Sare. Anna Irene Stamers. Jean Templeman. Now I would tell of the courage of yet another, a wife and a mother. Not because it was the courage of one woman, but because it belonged to hundreds of thousands of women of our Race. It needs but a glance at the " In Memoriam ' columns of The be erected in each of the largest cities of Germany, or at least in Berlin, a noble monument to the memory of British -women mur- dered by Germans on the High Seas. The monument to be designed and executed by our own people, tiie cost being levied upon the women of Germany who have abetted and gloried in the infamy of their submarine commanders. There is precedent for this in the great memorial arch which Germany compelled the Chinese Lo erect in Peking. But such suggested monument would be re- garded by the Germans, not as a badge of infamy but as a glorifica- tion of their valour (sic). THE ISLAND RAGE 35 Times, and of all daily journals of the Country, down to the humblest evening local paper, to realise how, during the Great War, the women of Britain faced the sacrifice of their sons and brothers. It was after the Victory of Jutland Bank. In a certain great naval base (it matters not which), there are dingy suburbs, peopled by seafaring folk, which stretch for miles in mean streets and dismal, meagre houses. In one of those streets there are fourteen houses all adjoining, in each one of which the mother of the little home had been newly made a widow. Her man had gone down in the Battle of Jutland. And I spoke with one of those women, and this was how she answered. " There's some as says," she remarked quietly, " that Beatty didn't ought to have taken on the whole of the German fleet with them battle-cruisers of his. But my man was in one o' them cruisers, and he went down in her, and I know what he'd ha' said ; he wouldn't ha' run away not if there' d been ten times as many." And then she went on, pointing to some children in the corner of the room — and ah ! the ring of ineffable pride in her voice : " And look at them children. II is children. Think of the blood that's in 'cm. His blood. Think what that means to England and the next generation with the blood of a father like that in 'em." But I would say more than that. I would say : " Think what it means to England and the next generation with the Mood of a woman like that in their veins." 36 THE SEAFARERS In such fashion, then, do I picture the British Navy, a mighty Sea Service of Four Estates, yet one and in spirit indivisible: — (1) The Royal Navy, of fighting ships and their auxiliaries ; (2) The Mercantile Marine, the greatest industry of the Realm and the most stupendous monu- ment of human energy and achievement that the world has ever seen, and from which the Royal Navy was born ; (3) The Seafaring Folk of the coast line ; and (4) The Land Folk, men and women, in whose veins run the tradition and spirit of the Island Race. The more one studies Britain's sea-history the more surely does it appear that her Sea-Service has ever been one belonging especially to the people, the democracy. Comparing it, I mean, with the land-service of the Army. As everyone knows (or does everyone know ?) the maintenance of an Army for Great Britain has to be sanctioned each year by Parliament. The maintenance of the Sea-Service is of the people, and is as free as the sea itself. The Mercantile Marine, in the far distant past, was created by individual enterprise. Its adventuring and achieve- ment through the centuries has been that of in- dividuals, of the people, sometimes supported, some- times hampered, by the Government of the day. And yet so mighty a force is it in its embracement of the whole world that our people who have created it, who support it, and who live only by its service, our people know little or nothing about it. An astonishing paradox indeed ! THE ISLAND RAGE 37 The Army had ever been a Service of the " aris- tocracy," the Royal Navy one of the " democracy." The Navy is a poor man's profession in which ini- tiative and efficiency have always counted towards promotion. " A military command called for exalted rank," Lord Rosebery once remarked, " or the seniority which often spelled senility." In the Army the number of men who, before the War, rose from the ranks to posts of high command might be counted on the fingers of the hand. But in the Royal Navy some of the most famous names in our history arc those of men who fought their way up from the bottom of the ladder. John Jervis, Admiral of the Fleet Earl St. Vincent, as he came to be, was the son of a country lawyer. Collingwood was the son of a merchant. Nelson himself was the son of a country parson, and served an appren- ticeship on board a merchant ship. The Mariners of England ! It is a proud title. Once again have the bearers of it won for themselves in the Cause which they have lately served, the honour and gratitude of their Country and their Country's Allies. How have they earned that gratitude ? " What has the Navy done ? ' I have yet to speak more fully of the Royal Navy, the fighting Senior Service, and then must we turn to consider the question and find an adequate reply. Else will this brief intro- duction of the characters in the great drama seem but windy boasting. Yet will I dare now something of a reply and set down here that which should rightly come as 38 THE SEAFARERS an epilogue. And I find the reply in words written to his countrymen many a long year ago by a gallant and courteous enemy, the Dutch Admiral De Ruyter, after he had beaten in fair fight the English Fleet. " But," so he wrote in his despatch, " all that we discovered was that Englishmen might be killed, and English ships burnt, but that English courage was invincible." THE TRADITION OF THE ROYAL NAVY II THE TRADITION OF THE ROYAL NAVY Flaunt out sea your separate flags of nations ! Flaunt out visible as ever the various ship-signals I But do you reserve especially for yourself and for the soul of man one flag above all the rest, A spiritual woven signal for all nations, emblem of man elate above death, Token of all brave captains and all intrepid sailors and males, And all that went down doing their duly, Reminiscent of them, twined from all intrepid captains young or old, A pennant universal, subtly waving all lime, o'er all brave sailors, All seas, all sliips. — ^alt Whitman. There should be a legend (if there is I do not know it) which tells how once upon a day the great god Thor delved from the earth a massive bar of dun- coloured iron. That he chiselled upon it mystic runes, and set it upon shipboard to sail forth to the destiny which he decreed in the writing. ileu iron to reil soil. ^Ijipimut attu rljapman sljall t"asl;ion me. .^Ijiuman and toarrior sljall nmlu me. And the dragon-prowed ship sailed on across the waters of the Northern Seas questing southern- wards for a shore which should be red as the iron which she bore. And the seas grew narrower so that one standing by the steering-oar of the ship 41 42 THE SEAFARERS might descry the cliffs upon either hand. Tawny of colour they were to the left hand ; of dazzling fairness to the right. And the ship sailed on, passing between them. Now in her sailing, as she came to breast the great sweep of the waves where they roll in from the Western Ocean upon the Narrow Seas, behold, upon the right there rose a land gleaming with colour like to a ruby set within platinum. Red as the ruby was the rich loam of that fair country ; and the Viking-ship, heaven-guided, turned aside upon her course for her quest was ended. Into a deep cove she sailed and there, embeached, yielded up her gift upon the shore. And the planks and timbers that were her body she strewed here and there all upon the coast from one end to the other. Now the men of that country were tillers of the soil (though some adventured a little way upon the sea). And they found the magic iron upon the beach and set to shaping and fashioning it, though to what end they knew not. The timbers of that great ship too they found. And the Spirit of her entered into their souls so that they turned more and more from tilling the soil to a more hardy adventuring upon the seas, becoming shipmen and merchants when beforetime they had been husband- men. The years passed into centuries, and the god- given iron became a precious heritage. Fathers and sons, they hammered and cast it into shape, ever working upon it through the passing years. But they knew not what they wrought nor why, though TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 43 little by little the iron came to the semblance of a weapon. And with the years the merchant shipmen of that country became ever more and more hardy and ventursome, so that the fame of their deeds was carried to the ends of the world. And steadily and surely by their thoughts and deeds was the iron welded and fashioned and tempered until the shape of it became certain. And lo ! it was a great Sword. So the merchant seamen in all reverence bore with them the Sword when they went a-faring. And it became an emblem and a bond of brother- hood to them. But never did they cease from fashioning it to a finer temper and keenness, for thus they showed their love and faith and gratitude. Now the fair, red-soiled home of the seamen was but a little part of a lovely island. And so doughty were the traffickings of those men through- out the world that the Island country grew rich and mighty by their valour. And so it came that the Island must needs have great ships built for its protection and for the guard- ing of its commerce. So the Rulers of the Island sent to the men of that little red land — and it was in the West — and besought them to teach the building of ships-of-war and to serve upon them against an enemy, setting a pattern and example to other men of the Race. And the men of the fair Western land came gladly. And they bore with them, as the most precious gift which they could bestow, the Sword which they had fashioned. 44 THE SEAFARERS Sturdy were the ships they builded ; nobly did they serve them against all enemies. And with the serving, so did the Sword become ever more keenly tempered and exquisite in its ornament and workmanship. Over all seas and into all lands was it borne, so that all men wherever it shone must needs praise its beauty and hold in highest honour the sea-warriors that bore it. In every land where it shone flashing aloft, sword and buckler both, there were wrongs righted, the weak protected, justice dealt, tyranny o'er- thrown. Chivalry to those it vanquished, humanity and gentleness, these followed. So in time there came the greatest war of all, when a people, mad with lust and jealousy, strove by every foulness and treachery to prevail against the Men of the Sword and the peoples whom the Sword protected. So they strove, and the more foul and bloody their deeds the more brightly gleamed the Sword, untarnished by speek of rust or dirt. And at the last, so brilliant was its splendour, so mighty the arms of the sea-warriors, that the enemy, driven to a last attack, fell to the earth, blinded by the glory of its lustre, and yielded them- selves. And the Island Kingdom was this dear land of England. And the name of the fair country of the red soil in the West was Devon, the cradle of our seafaring race. And the name of the Sword was " ftraoition of tbc Sea." So would I frame the legend and seek to tell by a parable how the Tradition of the Royal Navy TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 45 came to be the noble thing that it is to-day. Not by a little has it been created. You must needs go back through the centuries, pausing here and there to note how this man and that, one ship and her company and another gave to the fashion- ing of it. And ever behind there rolls the eternal mystery of the Sea ; ever there stands firm-set the bond and brotherhood of the men who strive unceasingly to pierce the veil of that mystery. In the hands of officers of all ranks and ratings of the Royal Navy to-day, the " Tradition of the Sea ' has taken, not a new meaning, but a more noble and spiritual a one. It has, indeed, become that " signal for all nations ' of which Walt Whitman has written. Faced by the incredible treachery and horror of the German submarine war- fare, incited to retaliate by a sternness, an inhumanity even, which all would have held legitimate, the manhood of the Royal Navy held ever to the Tradi- tion of the Brotherhood and won for the Island Race a glory which shall never fade. We have come out of this business with clean hands. I am not sure that this will not be our proudest boast. We like to think now with pride of the attitude which the Royal Navy adopted when German submarine commanders began to sink passenger and merchant ships without warn- ing. Our people strongly urged (and naturally so) that such Germans, when captured, should be treated as felons, imprisoned, and put upon their trial for murder. But the Royal Navy would have none of it. They must be treated as prisoncrs-of-war, said the 46 THE SEAFARERS Navy. And the Navy had its own way. Quixotic, perhaps. Foolish, you will say. Maybe it was. During the concluding year of the war, however, there was a definite change in the outlook of officers and men. Horror had been heaped upon horror, and the uttermost limits in the Pirate's Progress had been reached. " Spurlos versenkt " — " Sink with- out leaving a trace." Murder every soul on board and smash up the ship's boats. Even then the Royal Navy could not retaliate. But, realising at long last that there was no shred of humanity left to the Germans, fighting forces or people, justice and reparation was called for. There was only one way open at the time by which the Navy could voice its demand, and it was taken. Officers, all ranks and ratings, backed up Mr. Have- lock Wilson's manifesto of the Seamen's and Fire- men's Union for a boycott of German goods, ships, and sailors. It was a solid vote. I believe in Devonport alone some 30,000 signatures were ob- tained. It is impossible to realise how significant was that change of attitude unless you know some- thing of the meaning of Sea Tradition, and what it had come to signify in the Royal Navy; unless you remember how intense is the feeling for chivalry and humanity under all possible conditions.* There is a little story which Mr. Rudyard Kipling has outlined, f but I am sure that he will * Special attention is invited to the address of Admiral Beatty reproduced in Appendix II. t *' Sea Warfare," Rudyard Kipling, page 209. (Macmillan and Co.) TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 47 forgive me for repeating it in fuller detail. I like to set it side by side with another, to hang them up as pictures in the panels of the mind, to glance at occasionally and ponder over. A flotilla of our destroyers went out one fine morning across the North Sea to strafe Zeppelins. They put up a couple of the gas-bags, and for half an hour or so things were pretty lively. The Zepps up above were dropping bombs all over the place, and — well, the destroyers were giving back as good as they received. Better, perhaps. Right in the middle of the action one of the destroyers signalled to the flotilla leader for per- mission to " stop ship " and " pick up ship's dog," which had fallen overboard. Permission was given, the ship was stopped, and a boat was lowered. The dog, so they said, was swimming straight for the Belgian coast, and they swore that he was a German spy in disguise. But that didn't make any difference. They pulled after him, picked him up, smacked him about the ears, put him inboard the destroyer, and sent him below to ruminate over his behaviour. What they must have thought about it all up in the Zepps is left to the imagination. That is the first picture. Here is the second. It isn't a sea story, but it will serve. It was on the Western Front. In one of the villages which the Huns had just evacuated — " according to plan ' —a patrol of our men, four privates and a corporal, was marching up the street. As they passed an old ruin of a church, battered by shell lire, they heard, coming from inside (if you 48 THE SEAFARERS can call it " inside "), cries and piteous moans, as from some animal in agony. They clambered over the ruins, following the sound, and there, against a wall, they found a little kitten, crucified, with its tiny paws twisted round with strands of barbed wire. One of our lads jumped forward with his cutters and broke the wire. Upon the instant the four men were blown to pieces by a Hun contact bomb attached. It is an enemy which knows well how to turn to his own foul use this tradition of humanity and chivalry.* Now the rescue of the ship's dog was, to the ship's company of that destroyer, the most natural thing in the world. It was all in the day's work. And therein lies the whole point of the action. The saving of life, even though it were only of a dumb animal, is a matter of second nature to those in whom the tradition of chivalry and humanity is implanted. The immortal spirit of Nelson ever broods, they say, in watchful guardianship over the Fleet. And, with the saying, men most naturally think of his great leadership as a fighting seaman. But seldom has any great captain of men, one who by his life's work should set a noble example to his fellows, seldom has any man given to the world so many exquisite instances of humane feeling as Nelson did. Nelson was the incarnate spirit of Sea Tradi- * Incidentally they have used the same method for murdering our stretcher-bearer parties — attaching a bomb to a dead German left lying outside a trench. Our men would come to pick him up to bury him, and would be blown to pieces. TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 49 tion, and to understand the Royal Navy of to-day you must know first how Nelson lived. One recalls, for instance, the disastrous attack upon Teneriffe when Nelson, with his right arm shattered, nearly fainting with loss of blood, yet through sheer will-power himself saving the lives of his seamen strugo-lincr in the water — one recalls how they tried to carry him on board the nearest ship, the Seahorse. How Nelson, even in his agony, remembered that on board of her was Mrs. Fremantle, the bride of one of his captains, and that Captain Fremantle was on shore, dead or a prisoner. How they told Nelson that it was life or death to him. " I had rather suffer death," he replied, " than alarm Mrs. Fremantle, by letting her see me in this state, when I can give her no tidings what- ever of her husband." And so they carried him to his own ship. One anecdote from a hundred others. With such an exemplar is it to be wondered that the tradition of the Royal Navy ranks as it does ? It is the same " band of brothers ' to-day, even more firmly united, that fought as Nelson's comrades at the Rattle of the Nile. Many a score of times have I seen how actual and living a thing is this tradition. The passing of centuries cannot affect the service of the sea. The mighty battleships of the (irand Fleet to-day differ only in degree from the triremes that fought at Salamis. Always the first principles are the same. So with the sea tradition, e 50 THE SEAFARERS I have sat within the Admiral's eabin in the Flag Ship of the Grand Fleet, and have listened to the Commander-in-Chief as he has received in con- ference the captains of a battleship squadron. " My captains," so the Admiral spoke of them. And in that mode of thought and address was the immemorial tradition of sea comradeship. For the captains spoke with the Commander-in-Chief, and he with them, exactly as Francis Drake spoke with his commanders on the Spanish Main.* It is not, cannot be so in the Army. As between the officers, so is it between officers and men. Of all my impressions of the Royal Navy (forgive a momentary personal note), and I have been with squadrons in all parts of the world, no one is more vivid in my mind than that of the com- radeship which exists between the officers and all other ranks, petty officers, seamen, stokers, and marines. And once again I must needs think of Francis Drake. (Give me time and I will find you a pre- cedent in our sea-history for everything that has befallen in these later years — save only the con- temptible surrender of the German fleet.) And here I will set down his famous words upon which this part of our Naval tradition would seem to have been modelled. They were spoken far down the * Those who have been honoured by the privilege of a visit to the Commander-in-Chief on board the Flag Ship will recall the beauty of the furniture and appointments in the Admiral's cabin. If they know their sea-history they will also recall how Francis Drake carried for his table a noble store of gold and silver plate that he might uphold in foreign parts the dignity of the Queen's majesty, and of her Realm. fe^%/?€ : M^Mmh u** ADMIRAL SIR DAVID BEATTY TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 51 South American coast during the voyage round the world in the Golden Hind, at a time when Drake was fighting hard against the discords of his seamen. " Here," he said, " is such controversy between the sailors and the gentlemen (officers) and such stomaching between the gentlemen and sailors, that it doth even make me mad to hear it. But, my masters, I must have it left. For I must have the gentlemen to haul and draw with the mariner, and the mariner with the gentleman. What ! let us show ourselves all to be of a company, and let us not give occasion to the enemy to rejoice at our decay and overthrow. I would know him that would refuse to set his hand to a rope, but I know there is not any such here." So Francis Drake insisted three hundred odd years ago, and so is it to-day. The gentleman hauls and draws with the mariner. A sound, healthy tradition. The German thought he knew better. lie, poor little man, thought to laugh in his sleeve at a tradition which was old before he was born. Well, he has learned his lesson, Not, for a moment, though, that he is like to profit by it ! I cannot attempt to define this present-day comradeship. It lies in a hundred odd trifles of everyday routine on board His Majesty's ships. Manners of approach, ways of speech, this and that way of doing tilings. Nor does discipline relax for a moment ; il* anything it is intensified by the com- radeship. You will, for instance, never find in the Itoyal Navy such a thing as slackness in saluting 52 THE SEAFARERS or lack of proper respect towards an officer who bears the King's commission. One might illustrate in a hundred ways this bond of comradeship between officer and man, but there is one incident in particular which comes to mind because it is so splendidly typical and because, too, of the high rank of the officer concerned. Of all those gallant Senior Officers retired from the Navy prior to 1914, and who, at the outbreak of the War, came back to serve in any subordinate capacity and with any rank, no one is more famous than Admiral Sir James Startin, Entering the Navy in 1869 he fought in the Zulu War, the Egyptian War, the Benin War, and the China War, won two medals and two clasps for saving life, and retired, Vice-Admiral, in, I believe, 1913. But when the war came in 1914, Admiral Startin, like many another good man and true, went down to the Admiralty in Whitehall, and sat on the steps and said : " Give me a rank, and give me a job, I don't care what it is." And because My Lords Commissioners are sea- men themselves, and know the meaning of sea tradition, they gave him a job and a rank. And the rank was Lieutenant-Commander (which isn't very much of a rank when you've been an Admiral), and the job was the command of a flotilla of mine- sweeping trawlers. And so Lieutenant-Commander Startin, R.N.R., at the age of fifty-nine, began once again at the bottom of the ladder because there was sea service to be performed, and because the tradition of the Royal Navy enjoins that a man's service shall end only with his death. TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 53 Now I spoke one day in 1917 to a senior Naval Officer in the Grand Fleet, and asked him if he knew Admiral Startin. " Know him ! ' he replied, " he is the bravest man in the Navy." The bravest man in the Navy ! And that was the tribute of a brother officer. Well, you shall hear. Early in 1918, having won his way up to the rank of Commodore, R.N.R., Sir James Startin was in command of the mine-sweeping base at the mouth of the Firth of Forth. Out one morning in the Firth in a small ship Admiral Startin (as we must call him) sighted one of the launches of his flotilla heavily on fire. She carried a lot of oil, the fire had got to it and the engine-room was a roaring furnace. The Admiral closed the launch in his ship. " Any- one on board her?" he asked. And they told him that one of the engineers was still in the engine- room. There is no stopping Admiral Startin in a case like that, as many others had often learned, and, shaking off all attempts to hold him back, the Admiral clambered straight on board and plunged into the hell of flame. Fighting his way along the deck he got some- how into the engine-room. Groping on hands and knees he found the engineer lying unconscious by the tubes. With a mighty effort the Admiral dragged him out, fought a way back again with the body in his arms, and so lowered him over the side. 54 THE SEAFARERS The engineer, alas, was dead, but there is no doubt that had he not been past human aid the Admiral would have saved his life. Such is the comradeship between officers and men of the Royal Navy. An Admiral and an en- gineer. Such is the tradition of the Navy. They awarded the Albert Medal to Admiral Startin, and — he was sixty-three years old when he won it. Chivalry and humanity ; and with the German submarine warfare when the murderers were, more than once, taken almost red-handed. But a British naval officer does not renounce his right of man- hood even with a German prisoner-of-war. There was a certain U-boat which had been taking its toll of shipping. But the avengers were on its track, and one fine morning the U-boat had to come to the surface and surrender her commander and crew to a British destroyer. As is the way in the Royal Navy the British commander placed his cabin and wardrobe at the disposal of the captured enemy officer commanding. The German officer thanked his chivalrous captor by spitting in his face. Without a moment's hesitation the British officer got in a splendid left, and with a clean upper cut on the point of the chin sent the German spinning overboard into the sea. Leaving him there for a minute or so to get thoroughly wet, the destroyer commander then dived overboard after the German, picked him up, and hauled him inboard again. Then the German went below. I like that story. TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 55 The tradition of the Royal Navy to-day is, as I have suggested, the outcome of centuries. You may compare it to a mighty oak-tree which has sprung from a tiny acorn, growing steadily through the years. Now its branches spread throughout the world, and in every country that tradition is the synonym for everything that is most noble, most efficient, most chivalrous. Nor is that merely a figure of speech. Our people, I am sure, have no conception how the folk of foreign countries regard the Royal Navy. In lands which border upon the sea it is a living, prac- tical reality : in the far interior of the great con- tinents it has become a story of legendary renown. Four hundred miles up the great Yang-tse-Kiang river an ocean-going ship may steam towards the heart of China, and unload at Hankow. Hundreds of miles beyond that, by the rapids of Ichang, I came one day by a bend in the river. And as I rounded the corner I saw, incredible of the vision, the White Ensign of the Royal Navy fluttering above the low tree-tops. A British gunboat ! Had I never before felt pride in our sea-power and the Navy indeed my heart throbbed to it then. '' You know our fighting ships, then ? ' I said to the headman of a near-by village. ' We know them," said the Chinese. " Your iirc-dragon junks are mighty upon all the rivers. Not want to talk with them." To a little mountain village <>!' Roumania there came the news (from German sources) of the great German victory over the British Fleet at Jutland Bank. Even the British public had been staggered by 56 THE SEAFARERS the idiotic communique issued that Saturday morn- ing by our own Admiralty. Not so the Roumanians. Their faith was greater. ' Quite impossible," they said to the German telegram, " the British Navy can never be defeated. The Germans lie." And a fortnight passed before the truth reached their ears. But their hearts had told them long before. Like a diamond with its hundred facets of light, so is the infinite variety of the Royal Navy's tradition. But I shall fail completely in my purpose unless you appreciate this — that there is no phase of that tradition which is not directly a part of the Navy's everyday life and work. Officers and men do not talk about it, do not even think about it (save indirectly), for to act up to the tradition in every hour of their sea-service is with them but a part of their being. When Lieutenant F. W. Craven, R.N., in his little T.B.D. saved some 500 lives from a sinking ship in a heavy sea and a thick mist off the south of Ireland early in 1918— saved them by such consummate seamanship as no sailor there had ever witnessed before — he was only doing what every other " owner ' of a destroyer would at least have tried to do, maybe giving his life in the attempt. That piece of work, magnificent in its gallantry and skill, was to Lieu- tenant Craven no more than a momentary extension of his patrol routine. His portrait did not appear in the Daily Wire (he saw to that), and if by some mischance an enterprising reporter had managed to get it printed I honestly believe that the editor TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 57 would have been served by the commander with a writ for " defamation of character." Then there was the commanding officer of a motor-launch serving with a flotilla of mine-sweeping trawlers. (The incident is taken at random from scores like it, and such as my Naval acquaintances would scorn to mention.) A particularly ugly-looking mine was sighted adrift. A very heavy sea was running, and the crack shots of the trawlers failed to hit and explode it by rifle fire. The officer ran his launch close to the mine (a sea might have carried her crashing on top of it), and then coolly jumped overboard, swam to it, passed a tow-line through some eyelet holes in the mine, and so had it hauled ashore. That mine had to be got rid of, and as the method employed seemed the most simple and direct the officer " carried on." I have no doubt he had forgotten all about the incident before the week was out. One is irresistibly reminded of the old fisherman (in the war's early days) who was seen hauling a great German mine alongside a pier of a certain south-coast resort. " Take the damned thing away," shouted a horrified officer. " It'll explode." " 'E be quite armless, mister," said the fisher- man. " Oi've knocked they 'orns off wi' a boat- '00k." But that by the way. The tradition, and the spirit in which it is upheld. The two are as one, for no tradition may exist by 58 THE SEAFARERS lip-service only. And the spirit which upholds the tradition of the Royal Navy is the spirit which wins battles. And, after all, it is to win battles that the Royal Navy exists. It was that spirit, that will to conquer, that despising of odds, which carried Admiral Jervis to victory at St. Vincent with his fifteen ships against twenty-seven of Spain ; which carried Blake and his seamen into the Bay of Teneriffe when even partly to fail meant certain annihilation. It was the tradition which bore Admiral Duncan in the Venerable into the Texel River against heavy odds, and it was the spirit which bade him cry to his ship's company before they went into action : " I have taken the soundings of the water, and I know that when my ship sinks my flag will still It was the same unconquerable optimism which sustained Admiral Jellicoe throughout his herculean task of keeping the personnel of the Grand Fleet in perfect fighting trim throughout the weary months of watching and waiting in the North Sea. This generation may not, but our children surely will be brought to realise something of the imperish- able debt which the Empire and civilisation owe to Admiral Jellicoe. Is it too much to say that he created the Grand Fleet ? It was, without a shadow of doubt, his inspiring and human personality and leadership that made of the Grand Fleet so perfect an instrument of war as finally to secure by it the greatest victory in the history of the world ; a victory won without the firing of a single gun or the loss of a single life. TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 59 But for the moment I write of another matter. In a letter to Lady Jellicoe the Admiral paid his tribute to the manner in which the men under his command were upholding the Navy tradition through those winter months of unceasing strain and vigilance. ' The men," he wrote, " are setting an example of cheery patience that is splendid . . . The nights are very long, the sky is very grey, and the decks are very, very wet. But none of these things affect the spirit of the men, any more than the cold and wet trenches and the constant shell-fire affect the spirits of those splendid soldiers of ours ... It is good to be a Briton nowadays." And if I may make the momentary digression I would like the officers and men of the " Old Army " to know that it was also in no small measure the all too scanty news of the supreme gallantry evinced by the " Old Contemptibles " in France and Flanders that helped to inspire the Grand Fleet during those long watches at sea. The admiration of the Royal Navy for the " Old Contemptibles ' was, and is unbounded. * " I cannot adequately express the pride with which the spirit of the Fleet filled me." So wrote Admiral Jellicoe after the one great fleet action vouchsafed to the Royal Navy in the war. And with the words I see the picture of four seamen wrecked from a destroyer in the middle of that great fight, clinging to, crouching upon a raft, while above and around them enormous projectiles * 1 make the remark from personal experience with audiences of every section of the Hoynl Navy ; but 1 know that the various Admirals Commanding will bear out the assertion. 60 THE SEAFARERS hurtled through the air and mighty concussions rent the very heavens. And I see those men, each one of them staggering to his feet as four destroyers in line ahead swept into action, and yelling himself hoarse with a cheer to speed his comrades on. Or I clamber again up the great steel mast of a battleship at " action stations " in the North Sea as she zigzags a course into the Skager Rak to tempt the Huns forth to a fight. And emerging into the " top ' where there should be, one would think, the tense strain of hands on levers, eyes glued to telescopes, gun-ranging signals and such like, I iind instead the gunnery lieutenant-commander (a famous International footballer) aiding and abetting a seaman in giving an excellent imitation of George Robey (with mask) in his latest song success. " Now then, chorus please, all together ! ' " Shurr-upp." Do you remember the British infantry storming the German trenches to the cry of " This way for the early doors " ? Or again I see in imagination the glorious chase of the German Niirnberg by H.M.S. Kent after the battle of the Falkland Isles. The Kent, the dear old lame duck of the British Squadron, with her 23 knots setting out to run down the German ship with her 24 knots. It was Captain Keats and the Superb over again. Now was the day of the engineers and the stokers, and magnificently did they answer the call. You may picture the Niirnberg hull down over the horizon — just a smudge of smoke — and you can see the men of the Kent determined to burn everything in the ship that could burn before she got away from them. TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 61 For they were out to avenge the death of a consort. You see the revolution gauges in engine-room and on the bridge creep steadily up. They say that all the furniture in the ship was piled into the furnaces. Steadily up; and now they are actually knocking 25 knots out of her. Better still, they are sticking to it. But it's only one knot to the good, and imagine how long the chase must needs be. But the " black squad " and the " greasers " are in it to the death, and they bank up and keep the cranks going until it would seem that every plate and rivet will be shaken out of the ship. Then, at long last, the welcome message from the fire-control and the Kent's gunners are at work. From then an hour and a half saw the end ; and the Monmouth was avenged. *»* The spirit that wins battles ! It was that spirit which won for England her first great victory at sea just seven hundred years ago. The victory won by Hubert de Burgh in the Straits of Dover in 1217 over a French fleet of double his strength. Indeed, " the Navy is very old and very wise." It was the same spirit which won for Britain what may chance to have been her last great fleet action, when Vice-Admiral Beatty engaged an enemy in advantage of numbers and position, holding on grimly to enable the Commander-in-Chief to strike the decisive blow. For the tradition of the Royal Navy in such matters is a very simple one: Go straight for the enemy and dont give a damn for the odds. 62 THE SEAFARERS And while the spirit which translates that tradi- tion into action may, and most frequently does, win its battle there comes, perhaps, a day when the glory of defeat is a greater thing than the glory of victory. Save, always for the loss of noble lives that may never be replaced. Who will say that Sir Richard Grcnville and his men of Devon were not greater in their defeat than in their possible victory ? The tradition of the Revenge is one of the most inspiring in our Island history. There was a little ship of ours, and the name of her was the Mary Rose. And Mary Rose is a name which is very famous in the annals of the Royal Navy. You will find her fighting in wellnigh every fleet action back to the campaign of the Spanish Armada and beyond.* Now this Mary Rose, the last of her name, was one of our best and fastest destroyers, not long in commission. And one day of October, 1917, she steamed out from Norwegian waters in escort of a convoy of a dozen odd merchantmen bound for the West. And the name of her " skipper " was Charles Fox, Lieutenant-Commander. Twelve hours out she was, steaming ahead of the convoy, when far astern, flashes of gun-fire were sighted. Swinging round on her course the Mary Rose steamed back to investigate, thinking that a submarine was attacking. The morning was misty, and, as she sped back, suddenly there loomed up to her, at no more than * I offer no apology for re-telling this story, for it is one which will be told and retold through the generations until Britain is no more a nation. Aye, and then will they remember it of us. TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 63 four miles distance, the phantasmal forms of three large ships. Immediately the Mary Rose challenged. No reply. Yes ; a gun flash, and a shell falling astern of her. Then the Mary Rose saw clearly. It was not an enemy submarine but three of Germany's latest and finest light cruisers — sent, as we know now, to attack this particular convoy. Fox rang down for " full speed " and, opening fire with every gun he could bring to bear, drove his ship straight for the enemy. Three and a half miles — the range closed. Three miles ! And the cruisers opened with their quick- firers. Over and short burst the shells, straddling her ; and the Mary Rose held on. Two and a half miles ! Two miles ! And now the men of the Mary Rose began to go down, wounded or dead, beneath the bursting shrapnel. But ever the Commander stood to it, and ever the Mary Rose drove forward through the storm. One and a half miles — long since point- blank range for cruiser gunnery — but still . . . On ! On ! One mile, one little mile ! And the coxswain at a sharp order wrenches the helm hard-a-port. The starboard torpedo-tubes come to bear as the Mary Rose heels over, shipping a great sea which sweeps her deck. (Death is certain, but perhaps ten seconds respite for one sure blow at the enemy.) Over to the helm swings the tiny ship, and — crash — a salvo of shell hmsts fair amidships, wrecks the engine-room, and leaves the Mary Rose mortally wounded, helpless, motionless on the water. 64 THE SEAFARERS That one salvo carried overboard or put out of action every gun aboard of her save the little gun aft, killed or wounded every man save the Com- mander, the first and sub-lieutenants, half the gun detachment aft, and a couple of men by a torpedo tube. And through the thunderous din of the bursting shells and the choking fumes of the gas and burning wreckage there came to the little detachment aft the joyous cry of their Commander : ' God bless my heart, lads ! Get her going again — we're not done yet ! " And they got the little gun going again. And the two men by the torpedo tube pulled the lanyard to lire the last torpedo at a cruiser as she passed, and were struck down instantly at their post. And the Commander dived into his cabin to sink over- board the ship's papers — which is the last thing the "owner" must do before his ship goes down. And the first lieutenant called the gunner to him — as Richard Grenville had done, how many years ago — and cried : " Sink the ship, master gunner ! " But it didn't come to that. A last salvo took her hard within the water-line, and the little Mary Rose heeled over and sank with her White Ensign flying to the last, and the echo of those — immortal — words ringing down the world : " God bless my heart, lads ! We're not done yet ! " Such is the tradition of the Royal Navy. Not merely that a man's service shall end only with his TRADITION OF ROYAL NAVY 65 death, but, if the Call should come, that the manner of his death shall be equally worthy. That there should be gallantry in the passing, thoughtfulness for others, humanity, loving-kindness. The passing of Nelson, when he called for a handkerchief to cover his face and the glittering stars upon his breast in order that " he might be conveyed to the cock-pit at this crisis unnoticed by the crew." * The passing of Captain Loxley, when he went down in the Formidable standing calmly on the bridge with his little terrier by his side, and calling to his men : " Be British, lads ! " The passing of Thomas Crisp, V.C., master of the fishing smack Nelson — " It's all right, boy. Do your best with the gun ! " and then, after telling of his own death by carrier-pigeon message, going down with his ship. The passing of Jack Cornwell, ship's boy, as he stood by his gun calmly awaiting orders. These are of the Tradition. The legacy which great-hearted men and boys such as these have bequeathed to us is the most precious of all our glorious heritage. This is the Sea Tradition, sublime in its unselfishness, which England has bequeathed to the world. And that I think is our greatest pride. That a man may serve the cause of humanity by doing his duty simply and quietly, seeking no reward save only the reward that lies in the performance of it— that is a great thing. But that scores of thousands of a nation, one common * Compare the death of Captain E. K. Bradbury, R.H.A., at Xiry, when his last words were a request to be carried away quickly that his men might not witness his agony and be unnerved. — "Retnal from Mons," page 216. F 66 THE SEAFARERS stock, should work to the same end, should be con- tent so to work and to pass away unnoticed and unnamed — save by a few faithful hearts — that, surely, is most wonderful of all. And if you would seek in the life and death of one single seaman of ours (excepting Nelson) the meaning of the Tradition of the Royal Navy you will find it set forth day by day in the nobility of purpose, the skill in achievement, the unfailing devotion of one of Nelson's own Admirals, Colling- wood. Upon the cenotaph erected to his memory within his native city, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, is that tra- dition summed up in the words which tell of Colling- wood's passing : HE HELD THE COMMAND OF THE MEDITERRANEAN FOR NEARLY FIVE YEARS, DURING WHICH HE NEVER QUITTED HIS VESSEL FOR A SINGLE DAY DISPLAYING UNRIVALLED PROFESSIONAL SKILL AND CONDUCTING MANY DIFFICULT AND IMPORTANT NEGOCIATIONS WITH GREAT POLITICAL SAGACITY AND ADDRESS. AT LENGTH ON THE DECLINE OF HIS HEALTH HE BECAME ANXIOUS TO REVISIT HIS NATIVE LAND BUT HAVING LEARNED THAT HIS SERVICES COULD ILL BE SPARED IN THOSE CRITICAL TIMES, HE REPLIED THAT HIS LIFE WAS HIS COUNTRY'S AND PERSEVERED IN THE DISCHARGE OF HIS ARDUOUS DUTIES TILL WORN OUT WITH FATIGUE HE EXPIRED AT SEA, ON THE 7TH OF MARCH 1810, IN THE 6 1ST YEAR OF HIS AGE. Oh England, my England ! You should be very proud — and very humble. Proud indeed that such breed of men are Yours to do You service ; humble, stricken to the heart with shame that You give to them in return, even to-day, such poverty of re- compense and recognition. THE SEA AFFAIR Ill THE SEA AFFAIR To-day a rude brief recitative, Of ships sailing the seas, each with its special flag or ship-signal, Of unnamed heroes in the ships — of waves spreading and spreading far as the eye can reach, Of dashing spray, and the winds piping and blowing. — Walt Whitman. The British Navy has once again performed its traditional task. The Island Kingdom has been spared the horror of invasion, and her Sea Power has been extended upon the Continents of the world by the landing of her armies ; the freedom of the seas has been maintained for such as pass " upon their lawful occasions " ; and Civilisation has been saved. It is well to clear the ground at the outset and take the negative side of the picture. " If it had not been for the British Navy." And we may put it in outline and very briefly, with but little effort of the imagination. First then, the original Expeditionary Force could not have sailed, and, as we can see now, Paris would have fallen and France would have been beaten to her knees within a month or so. The Channel ports would have been occupied from the Scheldt to Brest, and then, within a little while, would have come the turn of Great Britain. 69 70 THE SEAFARERS From Portsmouth to the Humber I see the streams of refugees pouring inland from the coast towns and villages. I picture the sack of Ipswich ; English women ravished upon trestles set out in the market-place,* and then driven out slashed and mutilated into the fields. Magdalen Tower, Oxford, comes crashing down through the chapel and over Addison's Walk ; the Bodleian Library with its precious store soars to the sky in a sheet of flame while drunken German soldiery dance down the Broad. Winchester Cathedral, with the West Front battered out, serves as a stable for cavalry horses. The tide of invasion sweeps across from the east, and old men, women, children, Jews and aliens, pour out of Leeds, Sheffield, and Nottingham, to- wards the mountain fastnesses of Wales. Plunder and rapine through the great industrial districts ; men and boys driven at the bayonet point to dig trenches, with a merciful stab at the end of the day when they drop down exhausted. A carnival of tipsy revellers in St. Paul's Cathedral ; Canterbury an orgy of drunken lust and barbarism in and out the ruins. German officers parading the streets in copes and vestments, slashing with their swords at every living thing. Little children slung up by hooks in the shop-windows — but why continue ? All these things, and hundreds of others incom- parably more horrible, would they have done — had it not been for the British Navy. And afterwards ? After a peace dictated in London — no such thing as a " conference." Our * Vide appendix to the Bryce Report, p. 19. THE SEA AFFAIR 71 people in their hundreds of thousands herded into actual slavery, with " eighteen hours a day forced labour under the lash or at the point of the bayonet, with a dog's death and a dog's burial at the end of it." * These are the things which many members of the British Parliament (heaven forgive them !) strove for, hoped for during four long years of a world's agony. And they would have had their way — had it not been for the British Navy. Then in due course would have come the turn of those " idiotic Yankees." | New York, Boston, Richmond and Philadelphia would have learned what Germany really thought of the United States and the Monroe Doctrine. America would have sprung to arms too late to save even herself — had it not been for the British Navy. Every ship that sailed the seas would have sailed beneath the German flag or at the sufferance of Germany. India, the magnificent loyalty of native India — well, Germany prefers her own methods of administration with " niggers." Remember the Hereros and other native races of Africa ! From Hamburg and Riga to Aden ; from Cairo to Mozam- bique ; from Sierra Leone to Somaliland (look at your atlas, please) the Germans would have marched as conquerors and imposed their devilish " Kultur " — again (forgive the repetition) had it not been for the British Navy. * Mr. Rudyard Kipling's " Message to the Nation," February 15, 1 ( J18. f That insult, more than anything else was, I believe, respon- sible for bringing America in to the War. 72 THE SEAFARERS No. I do not exaggerate one iota. Ask M. Clemenceau and M. Pichon and Marechal Foch ; ask His Majesty of the Belgians, Admiral Sims and Admiral Rodman ; ask M. Venizelos, and His Majesty of Italy, and Field-Marshal Haig ; ask Hindenburg, Ludendorff and William Hohenzollern, and you shall have the same answer. Germany lost the war when Britain entered it. That is the gist of the matter. For Sea Power decided the issue, as it has ever done since history was first made. Had many of our politicians and publicists remembered this elementary fact in the dark days of 1917-18 there need have been exhibited none of that miserable pessimism which characterised their actions. But politicians know nothing of the reality of Sea Power. The Premier, however, re- membered. " The Mariners of England ! ' And the pay of the Captain of a super-Dreadnought, vested capital of two million pounds sterling, carrying over 1,100 men, is a trifle over £400 a year. A sub-lieutenant, R.N., after years of intensive training, receives — less than a boy-riveter of fourteen on Tyneside. His Majesty's midshipmen, of whom I shall speak hereafter, and whose gallantry and heroism during the War have been second to none, actually had themselves (or their parents) to pay for the privi- lege of so serving their country, until a " tem- porary dispensation " from the Admiralty came into force. Of the scandalous — yes, " scandalous " — state of affairs with the lower deck again I shall have THE SEA AFFAIR 73 something to say later.* But this I may remark now. There is nothing, nothing which the officers and men of the Royal Navy may demand that the Nation must not give to them. We owe our lives, our honour, our very existence as a nation to them and it must be our greatest pride and happiness to grant any request they may make. These are the words of Admiral Sims, U.S.N., to his countrymen : " If a catastrophe should happen to the British Grand Fleet there is no power on earth that can save us . . . The British Grand Fleet is the foundation-stone of the cause of the whole of the Allies." I do not forget the work of the seamen and ships of the Allies, Japan, France, Italy, and, during the concluding year, America. But, as our Allies have been ever anxious to urge, their efforts could have availed but nothing without the Sea Power of Britain, The words of Admiral Sims provide the key to the meaning of sea supremacy. ' The British Grand Fleet is the foundation-stone." And Admiral Sims was but repeating the words of another citizen of the United States, Admiral A. T. Mahan, uttered many years ago to tell the world how British sea supremacy had defeated Napoleon. They have been quoted a hundred times in the past five years, but I venture to set them down yet once more for they sum up as no other words have done the achieve- ment of the Grand Fleet in this war also. * Since these lines were in print an Admiralty Commission has been appointed to go into the whole question of pay and allowances In the Royal Navy. So I will leave the matter. 74 THE SEAFARERS " They were dull, weary, eventless months, those months of waiting and watching of the big ships before the French arsenals. Purposeless they surely seemed to many, but they saved England. The world has never seen a more impressive demonstra- tion of the influence of sea-power upon its history. Those far-distant, storm-beaten ships upon which the Grand Army never looked, stood between it and the domination of the world." ' Communications dominate war " is a primary maxim in all campaigns, whether by land or sea. And the enemy's lines of communication must be cut at a point the closest possible to his base. Nelson, with his strategical genius, ventured more than once to disobey this principle by holding his blockading fleet at a distance from the base blockaded ; this in order to tempt the enemy out to fight. But his ultimate successes were won only after much trouble and weariness of heart, and probably only a Nelson could have " made good." Thus, when you read of General Allenby's vic- torious campaign in Palestine, or the capture of Baghdad, or the conquest of Togoland, it must be remembered always that British Armies in the Field were but the extension of British Sea Power, the spear- head upon the shaft, and that all was accomplished solely because the British Grand Fleet in the North Sea made it possible of accomplish- ment. How then has the British Navy worked in fulfil- ment of its traditional task ? I picture the achievement of the Navy as coming THE SEA AFFAIR 75 within four categories. Four headings, four little words each one of which begins with the letter " C." (The pun is intended.) Here they are : — CO-OPERATION COMBAT CONVOY COMMUNICATIONS The division is not official, nor is it arbitrary ; nor does it matter in what sequence the headings are taken. Also it will be found that the subject- matter necessarily overlaps. That is inevitable. I propose now to suggest a few points under each heading by way of fixing them in the memory. GO-OPERATION The Sister Services " With 30,000 men in transports at the Downs the English can paralyse 300,000 of my army, and that will reduce us to the rank of a second-class Power." — Napoleon. By "Co-operation" I mean the working together of the Navy and Army combined in some distinct and definite military operation. This, as distin- guished from, say, the actual transport and escort of troops by the Navy. I suggest this phase of the Navy's work for first consideration because it is, perhaps, the most involved and technical of all the duties which a Navy is ever called upon to undertake. As always I would avoid questions of the higher strategy so that the word " technical " need cause no alarm and a desire to skip this particular section. Now the number of instances in history of ships and troops acting together, supporting each other, in a military operation are comparatively few.* Opportunities for such action are rare. One of the earliest in our own history was the occasion of Francis Drake attacking San Domingo in 1586. Drake had a genius for this kind of land and sea * I venture throughout this book constantly to refer to in- cidents in our earlier Naval history in the hope that the reader may be stimulated to look back for himself. The more illustrations which we have at our command, whether from personal experience or from history, the sounder should be our grip upon the matter in hand. 76 GO-OPERATION 77 work combined — amphibious warfare, as it is termed — and the principles which guided him at San Domingo have actually served as a model ever since.* But then Drake had the advantage of being a great seaman and a great soldier too, and the combination is very unusual. One of the happiest instances of the British Navy and Army working together was the attack on, and capture of Quebec in 1759 by Vice- Admiral Saunders and General Wolfe.f History has plenty to say about Wolfe and Gray's " Elegy ' and the death in action of the General at the moment of victory, but, as usual, it is silent about the part played by the Navy. And that part was every bit as important as the work of the Army. ' The mastery of the seaman's art," says John Leyland,J " which Saunders displayed at that time, a com- bination of daring caution, skill and command, has rarely been surpassed." The campaign in the Crimea is another instance of the silence of history about the work of the Navy. And yet the opening of the operations by Navy and Army combined, in face of almost incredible difficulties and with an enemy fully alive to all our movements, was one of the most brilliant and successful in our military history. § Personally, I * The story is told in " Drake, and the Tudor Navy," Julian Covbett, vol. ii., page 36 et scq. f" History of the Royal Navy," W. Laird Clowes, vol. iii., page 206 el seq. \ " The Royal Navy," John Leyland (Cambridge University Press), page 90. A delightful little volume (in a cheap edition) which should be in every home in the Empire. § Vide " Some Principles of Maritime Strategy," Julian Corbett, page 292. 78 THE SEAFARERS imagine it to have been an operation infinitely more hazardous than the attack on the Dardanelles in the late war, and it was conducted, too, with an enemy fleet " in being '" of a strength nearly equal to our own. Other interesting examples of such combined operations may be found in the Revolutionary Cam- paign in Chile, 1891 ; the Spanish-American War, 1898 ; the attack on Wei-hai-Wei by the Japanese in 1895 ; and several of the actions in the Russo- Japanese War of 1904-5.* A very high degree of skill is necessary, not to mention a most friendly and unselfish agreement between the naval and military commanders, to bring such combined operations to a happy issue. For Great Britain it is obvious that no military campaign can ever exist in which the Navy and the Sea do not play a vital part. (Unless, of course, we come to aerial transport — a most likely contingency.) And nothing in the late war is happier than the close friendship which existed between the two Services. To Thomas Atkins the sailorman was one of those legendary beings of the guardian angel type of whom he had heard so much but had never seen, but in whom he could repose implicit trust. To Jack, denied the privilege of a good scrap, the soldier- man was a Homeric hero who fought all day up to his waist in mud, ate and drank nothing but mud for his meals, and killed seven Huns with every lunge of the bayonet. * To the would-be student, "Letters on Amphibious Wars," Brig.-General G. G. Aston, is warmly recommended. GO-OPERATION 79 In all the British Navy to-day there are no happier and prouder men than that little handful of petty-officers and A.B.'s who went on a Cook's tour round the trenches and found themselves manning machine-guns and rifles to repel a Hun attack. And when they eventually got back to H.M.S. Broadside ! Well, the captain has by im- memorial custom a little bit of the quarter-deck to take exercise on, but our trench heroes collared the whole. Up and down they would parade in a sublime dignity which I am sure Admiral Beatty could never approach. And no young ladies of Windsor Town ever cast more envious and admiring glances upon khaki-clad warriors than their out-in-the-cold mess- mates cast upon those lucky men. Signalmen would peer at them over the bridge awning ; stokers would poke grimy heads out from odd, hidden corners ; even the Captain himself, who is as God to the ship's company,* sat morose in his cabin and bewailed the day that he hadn't enlisted for a soldier. But down below on their mess-deck the heroes would unbend a little. " Well, mates, it was thuswisc." And Able Seaman Tom Rogers cast an appraising glance at the intent faces which blocked out every corner. ' We'd been going a couple o' days and nights afore we got into port where Haig was — don't remember the name — and we was ordered to heave-to almost the next station — about three cables distance. Now Haig, what he don't get to know about Fritz isn't * An Admiral is merely Royalty to the ship's company. 80 THE SEAFARERS worth knowing. Same as our Admiralty chaps. And the very night we dropped anchor Haig took in a signal that Fritz was coming out next day : Hill 53 they called it." " Where was you, Tom ? " inquired Howell, O.D., meekly. " All right, me lad, if you're spinning this yarn " A chorus of warm protest, and " Stow it, Ginger ! " The ruffled Tom resumed. " Well, Haig was in a rare fix 'cos he hadn't got hardly any men down there, and the line near-by was pretty thin. But just as he was thinking about it one of the staff chaps went up and said ' Beg pardon, sir, but the Navy's here.' " ' Navy ! ' says Haig. ' Thank God, then, we're all right ! Where is it — are they ? ' So they told him how we'd come alongside that night. ' Good,' says Haig, ' signal them to close ; or — wait — send my barge to pick them up.' " " Barge ? " queried Howell. " Motor car, I mean," answered Tom with a scowl, and " Another word from you, my lad ! So they picked us up — there was me and petty-officer Simmons and six of us — and took us straight down to Haig's cabin. He's a gentleman is Haig, take it from me. And Haig says ' well, my lads, we always have to come back on the Navy, and I know I can depend on you to see us through ' — and a lot more hot-air stuff. And we said ' aye, sir,' and stood looking like a lot of owls " " Trust you for that," murmured Howell. CO-OPERATION 81 " That's done it," said the exasperated Tom, " out you go ! " Fifteen seconds for refreshment. Then, after the armistice " Well, the long and short of it was they rushed the lot of us off in the pinnace — car, I should say, making about 48 knots all the way and pitching ! — a destroyer isn't in it : I thought we'd be over the side every minute. Then we fetched up in a trench — the proper kind, with the mud up to your armpits — and they handed out a machine-gun and a couple of rifles and bayonets each, and a trolly- load of ammunition, and told us to carry on the minute Fritz put his head up. And so we did ! Gum ! it was warm work ! They came on in hundreds yelling like the devil. And we plugged away for all we were worth. And when we'd finished all the ammunition, ' come on, boys ! ' shouts old Simmons, and up the side we went up on deck and let go with the bayonet. I couldn't shake 'em off the end fast enough. And after it was all over and there was no more Huns left they took us back again and served out a dozen tots of rum each. The ' end of a perfect day ' ! " concluded Tom, with a reminiscent smack of the lips. " And what did Haig say ? ' asked a stoker who'd got in somehow. " Well," said Tom modestly, " it isn't for me to say, but " So there wc will leave them. And although General Currie and the Canadians may reasonably claim some share in that day's work I guess they don't begrudge the D.C.M.'s and other awards so G 82 THE SEAFARERS gallantly earned by the Navy in those " combined operations." Perhaps Bill Adams really did win the Battle of Waterloo. Who shall say? If that is a suggestion of the spirit in which the Navy enjoys fighting side by side with their comrades of the Army, the Army is not a whit behind in appre- ciating the chance of a scrap under the White Ensign. There was a certain Army officer back in England on leave from the Front. And being a man of proper enterprise he secured permission to pay a visit to the Grand Fleet for the usual four days' spell. Arrived at Scapa he was assigned (as was usual) to one of the battleships. He hadn't been on board an hour when the Commander-in-Chief made the signal to ' raise steam immediately for 18 knots, and report when ready." That meant another parade in the North Sea. Every man on shore was brought on board his ship, and all turned to their ordinary routine jobs for " proceeding as requisite." ' But," said the Army man, when it was ex- plained to him, "I'll have to be put ashore." ' Sorry," replied the captain, " I'm afraid we can't." ' Good lord," said the Army, " you must. I can't go out with you. I'll be hauled on the mat for over-staying leave." ' Sorry," returned the captain, beginning to think that the Army was getting " cold feet," " but we can't let you have a boat." ' Is there no way of getting me ashore ? " asked the Army in despair. CO-OPERATION 83 " Afraid not." " Not a raft or anything ? " " No." " Thank God!" ejaculated the Army with intense fervour. And so that Army officer went to sea on the battleship, and found himself in for— the Battle of Jutland. And he hasn't done crowing about it yet ; nor will he so long as he lives. Just think of such amazing luck ! And the Battle of Jutland thrown in. I believe it is a fact that no more than three Army Officers had that luck of going to sea with the brand Fleet. Now, those two little yarns are not really a digression from this theme of " Co-operation." For they indicate, I think, how very real is the bond which unites the two Services. Given that tie of sterling friendship based upon mutual respect and admiration all things are possible. Similarly, every- thing that tends to strengthen that bond, whether it is inter-Services sport and games, singing competi- tions of glee and unison songs,* and any such that brings the Services into friendly rivalry, these are worthy of organisation and should receive the heart- iest support from the Admiralty and Army Council. Returning then to actual military operations of an " amphibious " character, and noting how infrequent, comparatively speaking, they are in history and the elements which make for their success, * Witness the work of the " Naval and Military Musical Union *' since 1908. 84 THE SEAFARERS there will be little surprise at their rarity in the late war. Five examples I can recall. And I propose to do no more than make very brief reference to them, seeing that the actual details will certainly be pub- lished elsewhere, if they have not already been given. First, in point of time, came the most valuable assistance from the Navy off the Belgian Coast in October, 1914. As I have told elsewhere* there appeared to the sorely tried remnant of the Belgian Army, fighting to save the last remaining little corner of their country, the heartening sight of British warships steaming close inshore, enfilading the German right with heavy guns. It was a support, too, for the French marines at Dixmude and so for the whole of the Allied left flank. From that date down to the end of the war those monitors and their attendant craft never failed in their support, and the last phase was reached with the announcement to the public, in October, 1918, that " the Vice- Admiral commanding the Dover Patrol has landed at Ostend." Incessantly, by night and day, there was cruising in those waters a fleet of some eighty ships of every class, from light cruisers to tiny motor patrol launches. And the ships were manned not by a personnel of long-service ratings of the Royal Navy but mainly by Naval Reserve officers and men, deep-sea fisher- men, and landsmen who had heard the ' Call of the sea." " These men," wrote Vice- Admiral Bacon, then commanding the Dover patrol, " these men under fire * " The Marne— and After," page 192. CO-OPERATION 85 have exhibited a coolness well worthy of the personnel of a Service inured by discipline. The results show how deeply sea adaptability is ingrained in the sea- faring race of these islands.'" (I cannot resist the italics.) Incidentally, Vice-Admiral Bacon has recorded another fine instance of the splendour of the Royal Navy's tradition. I quote the actual words, and one may well guess the inspiration which it must have had for the entire command. "It is with regret that, among others, I have to report the death of Lieutenant-Commander H. T. Gartside-Tipping, R.N., of the Armed Yacht Sanda, who was the oldest naval officer afloat. In spite of his advanced age he rejoined, and with undemon- strative patriotism served at sea as a Lieutenant- Commander." As usual with present day Naval Despatches one must know how to read between the lines. So that paragraph may be supplemented by remarking that Lieutenant- Commander Gartside-Tipping had retired from the Navy some forty years before the Great War came ; that in 1914 he worried the Admiralty day and night until they gave him a job afloat ; that he served afloat with the Patrol for eighteen months ; and that, at the last, when the Call came, he died as he would have wished — on active service, on the deck of his own ship, and with his face to the enemy — With many an old brave captain we shall never know, Who walked the decks under the colours when the winds did blow, And made the planks red with his blood before they carried him below, Like an old Sailor of the Queen's And the Queen's old Sailor. 86 THE SEAFARERS And Lieutenant-Commander Gartside-Tipping was 67 years of age when he died. Now it is rather a curious fact of military history that it has been very frequently the threat of a 6 combined operation " rather than the operation itself which has caused the more damage to an enemy. It was, in fact, the threat only of such an amphibious attack that caused Napoleon in 1809 to write the words which I have set at the head of this section, and to take what one can only term panic measures to counteract it. As Sir Julian Corbett has pointed out,* " So long as British intervention took an amphibious form they (the great Continental masters of war) knew its dis- turbing effect upon a European situation was always out of all proportion to the intrinsic strength em- ployed or the positive results it could give ... Its value lay in containing force greater than its own." If that should be the effect in a European war it must be even greater when dealing with Eastern or African races. But in the several examples of combined operations outside Europe which we must note there has been not only the threat but a very real and successful performance. (Save in the Dardanelles campaign.) I wonder, for instance, how many people realise that it was the British Navy which was in great measure responsible for the capture of Baghdad in March, 1917.f * " Some Principles of Maritime Strategy," Julian Corbett, page 64. f Unless we pull ourselves together and insist upon proper recognition being paid in our history books to the work of the GO-OPERATION 87 General Maude, however, did not forget the work of the Navy when he came to speak of the magnificent gallantry of the Forces under his com- mand. Great leader of men as he was, great soldier and great statesman, he realised thoroughly the meaning of Sea Power and how to utilise it in perfect combination with his land forces. ' For the success achieved," he has written in his summary of operations, " the fighting spirit of the troops has been mainly responsible, but the dash and gallantry of individuals and units have been welded into a powerful weapon by that absolute sympathy which has existed between both Services." Elsewhere in General Maude's Despatch you may find some of the details of the Navy's work and how they rendered " brilliant and substantial services." But again one must needs read between the lines, always remembering the fact by way of solid basis that the campaign in Mesopotamia would not have been possible at all had there not been an undefeated British Grand Fleet in the North Sea. The work, then, on the river Tigris was carried out for the most part by that section of the Royal Navy which is termed The Indian Marine. The officers are British, other ranks and ratings arc natives. And rarely, if ever, in military history can there have been such perfect co-operation between Fleet and Army. To say that they fought physically side by side is to tell just the exact truth. The gunboats themselves formed a part of the Navy our children will, 1 suppose, remain as ignorant as the present generation of the incalculable services which the Navy has rendered side by side with our Armies in the Great War. 88 THE SEAFARERS land force, for they actually chased the Turkish cavalry across the desert — with their guns. (Who said that the Horse Marines were a myth ?) They acted as storeships and as floating forts ; and when they were not worrying the enemy on the land they set to against his river craft and recaptured several gunboats of ours taken during the earlier campaign. The capture of Baghdad remains one of the greatest of all the great feats of arms in the War. It is difficult for those " who only England know ' to realise the meaning of such a victory, and the tremendous moral effect which it had throughout the Eastern world, from Constantinople to Peking. British prestige had ebbed very low indeed after the disasters of the previous years. The failure at Gallipoli and the fall of Kut had echoed through the bazaars of Delhi and Calcutta and the market- places of Soochow and Honan ; and some men chuckled with delight, while others spoke uneasily amongst themselves. But when the tale was told how the British Raj had still tens of thousands of soldiers to com- mand ; how his legendary warships had come and fought down every obstacle of transport ; and how at last his avenging sword had flashed from end to end of the great rivers and swept conquering through the very gates of the holy capital — then indeed was the star of the Allies once again in the ascendant and their Cause held to be the righteous one. A third example of combined operations is found in the blockade of the Arabian coast of the GO-OPERATION 89 Red Sea in 1916. And here again the capture of Damascus was largely due to the White Ensign flying paramount in those waters. To anyone who knows what the Red Sea is like in the month of June it is unnecessary to remark upon the strain of doing anything at all in that terrible, burning heat. The feat of endurance called for in serving a ship which lies motionless for days at a stretch in shallow water off the coast can dimly be guessed at. All in a hot and copper sky The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand No bigger than the Moon. But the Navy " carried on " as usual, co-oper- ating this time with friendly Arabs. And a rare job it was, with the overcoming of religious pre- judices, and of difficulties in " spotting " accurately for the guns, owing to sand and mirage. It is to be hoped that a kinema record was possible of the closing scene when Jiddah, the port of Mecca, surrendered to the Allies. You can pic- ture the landing of the Senior Naval Officer, and other officers of the R.N.R., pushing their way through a chattering, gesticulating crowd of Moslems of every race to the Council Chamber (!), where they were honourably received with an Address of Welcome, and sherbet in gilded mugs. By the way, it would seem that Physical Geo- graphy is a much neglected science in at least one department of the War Office, for they actually sent out to Egypt a shipload of sand for the filling of sandbags in the trenches. And the cargo was 90 THE SEAFARERS unloaded too. There is, however, no confirmation of the report that the Board of Admiralty sent six tanks of sea-water to the Fleet at Gallipoli for dis- tillation purposes. The operations of Navy and Army in Africa demand, and should certainly receive, a volume to themselves. There can be few more fascinating stories. And what a splendid " adventure ' book for boys it would make. Now, Mr. John Buchan, will you tell it for us ? Tell us how two little motor-launches fought a great ten-minutes' fight on Lake Tanganyika and beat and captured an enemy gunboat. Tell us how they blocked a river with a collier ship and marooned the German Konigsberg, sinking the collier across the fairway under a hail of machine-gun bullets ; and how they pounded the German to pieces, hidden as she was in the middle of a jungle. And the siege of Garua, far away in the heart of the Cameroons, how they carried a great naval gun to the attack, six hundred odd miles of river transport. Of the coast fighting of H.M.S. Dwarf and Cumberland, and the spies, and the clockwork infernal machines. Yes, please, Mr. Buchan ! Last of my examples, and most important of all, is the attack on the Dardanelles. I have no intention of going into the details of that " Immortal Gamble," as a naval friend of mine has most aptly called it, and only refer to it by way of a reminder under this heading of the Navy's work. The rights and wrongs of it, questions of strategy and tactics, CO-OPERATION 91 its effect upon the Western Front, and sundry other points, have been fully discussed, and will, I suppose, continue to be discussed for many years to come.* The Navy did all that was humanly possible, and more. The strategy was unsound. The ships, for instance, operated against the forts for a whole month before the land forces were set to work. But when the armies were set to land, remember that every soldier was carried ashore " on the back of a sailor." So also at the eventual evacuation was every soldier carried back inboard " on the back of a sailor." And, incidentally, that evacuation was carried out without the loss of a single life. That is one way the Navy has of doing its job. One thing, however, despite all else, remains an eternal certainty : the amazing, unsurpassable gal- lantry and heroism of the men who fought there. And of all those who fought there are none of whom the country should be more proud than the midshipmen of the Royal Navy. Youngsters of thir- teen, fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen years of age, most of them, many went straight from Dartmouth to the Dardanelles on active service. They were fight- ing and dying for England at an age when, nor- mally, they should have been just entering a public school. If we take such pride in the gallant service and death of a Gartside-Tipping, what can we say of * For an admirable precis of the arguments, pro and con ; of precedents and lessons from history ; and for the story of the operations I know nothing better than John Buchan's masterly " History of the War." The story of the Dardanelles begins in vol. vi. 92 THE SEAFARERS the manner in which those boys upheld the tradition of their Service ? Recall, if you will, all that you have heard or read of the Hell in which our men landed at Beach Y and Beach V ; look again at the pictures of it in the Press, close your eyes and give your imagination full rein, and then remember that through that awful storm of bursting shell our lads were put ashore in boats which were under the command of midshipmen. And so, too, were the wounded and dying carried back inboard under the tender charge of those same midshipmen. A mother of one of them has recorded a conversa- tion which she had some time afterwards with her son. I venture to reproduce her own words, to show the spirit in which those incredible deeds of gallantry were performed.* " One day " (she says) " he was on duty from ten in the morning until half-past one at night. " ' What did you do for food ? ' I asked, perhaps foolishly. " ' Oh, they threw me down a lump of cheese and a ship's biscuit, somewhere about midday, when I happened to be alongside.' " ' And was that all you had in all those hours ? Surely they might have seen you had at least some- thing to eat ! ' ' ' Eat ! ' he exclaimed scornfully, and then, very patiently : ' Don't you see, Mother, it was a question of men's lives ? Some were bleeding to * Reproduced from " From Dartmouth to the Dardanelles " (W. Heinemann). CO-OPERATION 93 death ; every second counted. How could we think of eating ? ' " I have no words in which to write of their hero- ism. It is something which can never be told. We may speak of it only with awe and reverence. But this I would say about those gallant young officers. I have lived with them, I have been in action with them, I have seen them at work and at play, we have poured whiskies-and-sodas together down the gun-room piano to buck it up, we have shouted choruses together, and I have talked to them sometimes (Heaven forgive me !) like a " Dutch uncle," and — here is the verdict : You may search the world through and through, but nowhere will you find lads of stouter courage, more merry of heart, of more perfect and gentle manners, of finer sportsmanship, of truer comrade- ship, than His Majesty's midshipmen. God bless 'em ! And, for the Lord's sake, don't call them " middies." COMBAT The Nelson Tradition " And should the enemy close I have no fears as to the result." — Nelson. ( The Trafalgar Memorandum.) Since the days when England first created a fighting Navy, her seamen have been guided by the maxim that " the first function of the British fleet is to seek out and destroy that of the enemy." It is a maxim which is typical of the Race. Thus, when the Great War came, our people with similar instinct came to expect a kind of glorified fleet action once a week until every ship of the Ger- man Navy was lying at the bottom of the ocean. They knew that Britain was by far the stronger at sea, but as the days lengthened into weeks and the weeks into months, and still there was " nothing doing," save losses of our own ships, folk became anxious, then irritable, and finally began to demand with no uncertain voice to know why they had paid all that money for a Navy which didn't do any work. The man who put that maxim into words was storing up trouble. Public opinion is a big thing, and when it is unenlightened it is apt to create a deal of mischief. Fortunately, the heart of our people was sound, and they stuck it out. But if there had been real trouble and Mr. and Mrs. John 94 COMBAT 95 Citizen had demanded immediate action and some big, showy offensive on the part of the Navy, the Authorities and Admiralty would have had no one to blame but themselves. If they will keep the public in blinkers, they deserve all they get. It's an old story. Edward III. faced it six hun- dred years ago. He tried to get supplies for his fleet and couldn't, because the people, or the Liberal and Little Navy Party of those days, didn't understand what the Navy was doing, and so didn't see why they should pay up. And history has re- peated itself a score of times since that date ; always with the same pernicious results. The fact is that, despite our inborn instinct for the sea and sea-warfare, there are one or two ele- mentary principles which must be grasped before we can rightly understand the duties of the British, and Royal Navy and how they are performed. Land warfare is comparatively simple and wellnigh everyone can understand the general ideas of it. Not so with the Fleet. And that is where illustra- tions from history are so valuable. ' That is all right," I can hear you remark, " but we are not reading this for a history book. Get on with the yarns about our men to-day." I agree. But it is only because I would have everyone understand better these little sea-pictures of the Great War, and so appreciate more fully the splendid work of our Mariners, that I venture to recall the past. A man may enjoy up to a point a performance of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, or Elgar's Violin Concerto played by a master, but his enjoyment and appreciation are increased 96 THE SEAFARERS a hundredfold if he knows something about harmony and orchestration, musical form and technique — knows, in short, how to listen to music. The main difference between land and sea war- fare lies in this. On land, given reasonable and obvious conditions, an army can always attack, or rather can come in contact with an enemy. If the enemy refuses you can follow him up and worry at him. On sea if the enemy fleet refuses to fight and retires into his harbour behind forts or natural protection you cannot get at him. If he won't fight you cannot force him to. You may possibly tempt him out by some trick ; or you may. for instance, worry his commerce to such an extent that he will feel compelled to come out to protect it. But that is all. Certainly there have been exceptions. Hawke and Quiberon Bay was one. Drake and Essex burn- ing the Spanish ships in Cadiz. Famous " cutting- out " expeditions like that of the recapture of the Hermione from a Spanish harbour by Captain Hamilton in 1799. And many another. But they all serve but to emphasise the real principle that sea- warfare is very limited in its extent. On the other hand one may recall Nelson outside Toulon for two weary years trying to get the French Fleet to come out and fight. Or again, off Boulogne and Flushing when Napoleon was massing his army of invasion against England. No one, needless to remark, was more anxious to get at the enemy ships than was Nelson, but, as he said about it, ' we COMBAT 97 cannot do impossibilities, and I am as little used to find out the impossible as most folks." In the Russo-Japanese War in wellnigh every respect the Japanese were the superior of the Russians and most certainly in sea-power. But try as they might they could not get at and destroy the Russian ships lying snug within Port Arthur. And here one may cite another sound principle of sea-warfare — too little realised — that ships are more or less of no use against land-forts, unless backed up by a land army. It isn't their job. The bitter experience of the first months at the Dardanelles and the subsequent result is sufficient illustration. Yet " offence ' : rather than " defence ' is the inspiration of the British Fleet. It has always been so. When Edward III. won the Battle of Sluys (1340) stern offence in the Narrow Seas was our naval policy. But the people even in those days clamoured to have the fighting -ships near our own coasts because they constantly dreaded an invasion. (I seem to remember a somewhat similar agitation when Scar- borough and Hartlepool were bombarded by a few " tip and run " German ships. Also when London was first bombed from the air.) But the Navy is wise. It just " carries on." If a thing is humanly possible the British Navy will do it. And only those who have lived with the seamen of th< Grand Fleet can realise how they fretted through the weary watching and waiting of 1914-1918, longing as men have never longed before for the chance which was denied them. Even at the very last, when they saw with incredulous gaze the German ships steaming to their miserable H 98 THE SEAFARERS end, they hoped against hope that someone would fire off a gun by accident and let them get to work. But the enemy passed to their anchorage and all that the British seamen could do was to spit over the side in boundless contempt. " Attack " is the very breath of their being. And never was there a more preposterous notion than the one that the Grand Fleet sat inside Scapa Flow for year after year, waiting for the Huns to come out, and growing a nice crop of barnacles in the process. That is what the German and our own enemy press tried to make the Public believe ; and what a vast number of our people did believe. I have encountered this firmly-rooted idea in every part of the country, right down to the moment of writing. Down at Harwich there lay the Striking Force of the Royal Navy. The first ships which would come into action. It was composed of half-a-dozen light cruisers ; destroyers (nominally about fifty , but the Dover Patrol would keep on borrowing) ; some submarines and the usual attendant aircraft. The force was under the command of a man whose name was unknown to 999 of 1,000 in this country until the episode of the surrender of the German sub- marines brought him prominently before the public. Reginald Yorke Tyrwhitt is his name, Rear- Admiral. And — well, as the Navy is not my Service I am going to risk displeasure and say it. I think of Admiral Tyrwhitt as one of the finest fighting seamen Britain has ever produced. The Francis Drake of the Navy to-day. One of his captains told me that since August. / Photo : Tunn 6 s (*.». REAR- ADMIRAL SIR REGINALD TYRVVHITT COMBAT 99 '14, Admiral Tyrwhitt had been blown up in, or shelled out of six different flagships. That shows the kind of man he is. It is, too, a pleasing com- ment on the " barnacle " idea. You may picture him any morning during the War steaming out to sea (for the Force was ready day and night for instant action), sometimes his one little cruiser, sometimes with her consorts. Any day over towards Heligoland and the enemy coast. And as he steams out you may see the signal made " Good-bye, boys ; see you later." Over to the minefields of Heligoland, for a round of golf before lunch. At least I honestly believe that the Admiral thought of it like that. Sometimes he would be in luck and there would be a healthy little scrap. And H.M.S. (whichever of the six it might be) would steam back to port with a bit of a limp and a few holes in her funnels, and a score, maybe, of disconsolate Fritzes on board trying to wring the North Sea out of their clothes. One day the Admiral was just bringing his four light cruisers back into port after twenty-four hours of " drawing blank." A sea-plane dipped to him and signalled that she had just sighted fourteen battleships to the northward, steaming across the North Sea east to west. A wireless was promptly flashed from the flag- ship to the Admiralty : From Commanding Harwich Force, to Ad- miralty, London. 14 battleships reported, latitude so and so, longitude so and so, steaming due W. Am going north to investigate." t( ioo THE SEAFARERS And off the four little cruisers went as hard as they could pelt. Now it chanced that the Grand Fleet was also out that day on one of its regular parades down the North Sea. The fourteen battleships were our own. And the Grand Fleet operators took in that message which had been flashed to the Admiralty. And the operators sent the message along to the various captains of His Majesty's ships. The captains summoned the commanders and chuckled mightily over the decoding of it. The commander took " Guns " aside and whispered the secret. " Guns ' burst into the ward-room with " They're out ! ' (no need to specify who). The doctor-man collared a passing " snotty," and the " snotty " told the master-at-arms— and in two minutes it was all over the ship. For another ten minutes there was eager sus- pense in the batteries, and then — the hoax was out. And when the sailormen heard how Admiral Tyrwhitt with his four little light cruisers was on his way " to investigate " the fourteen battleships there went up to heaven one mighty shout of Homeric laughter that the very ships rolled in sympathy. But between you and me, and quite in confidence, I should not be surprised to learn that there was in the eyes of some on board a little suspicious moisture at the thought of the Admiral's daring. Just a little touch of pride in the sea tradition which sent him upon his quest in face of such hopeless odds. For the battleships could have blown the cruisers COMBAT 101 out of the water before ever the cruiser look-outs might have sighted them.* And yet it was all in the day's work. Just a trifling extension of the regular routine of the striking- force. But such is Admiral Tyrwhitt. And with a commander like that you may guess how his officers and men backed him up. Heligoland or Hell were all one if Admiral Tyrwhitt' s flag led the way. But I would straighten out if I may that ' barnacle " inaction idea. And to give some idea of one side of the Grand Fleet's work of " offence," at a time when it was supposed to be lying in Scapa Flow, and when the German ships were supposed to be hunting for it, here is a little sketch of a two days' operation of which I can speak once again as an " eyewitness." It is merely typical of a score more similar parades. It was on a day early in November, 1917, that the Admiralty instructions reached the Commander- in-Chief at Scapa. There followed the usual con- ference of captains, and at 5 o'clock p.m. two squad- rons of battleships (nine ships) steamed majestically out of the harbour. -f A squadron of battle-cruisers had also gone out, but that was not known until later, when the Fleet was at sea. Also the Striking Force had a word or two to say as you shall hear. The ' general idea," as communicated to the captains by the Commander-in-Chief, was something like * But see also post, page 143. f I would sketch fuller details and an impressionist picture of the sailing of the Grand Fleet, but this 1ms already been done, and most vividly, hy two other writers of the sea : " Bartimeus " and liennet Copplestone. 102 THE SEAFARERS this. It should be noted how very precise is the programme as to times and positions : " (1.) We have recently laid a new minefield at Y round about the Horn Reefs in order to catch enemy ships coming out by Sylt Island. Several submarines have been caught there in consequence, so now they come out round the north of Denmark. " (2.) At 6.0 a.m., November 2, a Light Cruiser Squadron and destroyer flotillas will rendezvous at A and will steam on triangular courses (dotted lines on plan) until 7.45 a.m. They will destroy a German submarine decoy-ship lying at F, and at 8.30 a.m. they will attack and destroy a flotilla of enemy patrol craft and an attending auxiliary cruiser which will come out from the Sound bound for the North Sea. " (3.) At 6.30 a.m. the Battle Cruiser Squadron (four ships) — the Lion, the Tiger, the Princess Royal, and another — will have reached B, to the north of Jutland Bank. They will remain cruising in support of the light forces in the Kattegat until 4.0 p.m. " (4.) At 8.0 a.m. the two Battleship Squadrons (nine ships) — including the King George V. (flagship), the Orion, the Monarch, the Thunderer, the Con- queror — will have reached C. They will remain cruising in support of the battle-cruisers until 5.0 p.m. " (5.) At N there are lying four German battle- ships of the Nassau class. It is hoped that these may be tempted out to cut off the retirement of our light forces through the Skager Rak, being unaware of the presence of our heavy ships. " (6.) The remaining German battleships are in the Baltic, or laid up. .e-ri-<= J=— "> . " ^ c - -S 5 § r X o z O a H H US — V Z 2 « « •= X. a u Q Q H a i -CQ us op3 3 O a 104 THE SEAFARERS " (7.) Our battle-cruisers and battleships will be back at Scapa at 4.0 p.m. and 5.30 p.m. respectively on November 3." Such was the plan of operations lasting just fifty-two hours. It was carried out to the smallest detail and all ships were back at their bases exactly on time. Now we will see how it all befell. What happened to the decoy-ship (a kind of German " mystery ' : ship) I never heard. But I like to imagine a couple of our destroyers hailing her in the darkness and, with no reply, carrying her by boarding in the good old-fashioned way. For gun- fire or the explosion of a torpedo would probably have given the alarm to the other ships. In the darkest hour before a November dawn there came stealing through the narrow strait that cuts between the North Zealand shore and Sweden a dim procession of ships. Well in advance of the line, threshing steadily along, steamed an old ocean- going tramp. In her wake, huddled together a little, there followed one, two, three, four — ten smallish steamers that might have been deep-sea fishing boats. An old tramp ship ! But come to look at her more closely and there seems something a trifle odd about her. Her lines are rather more delicate, more slender than you would expect in, say, a wheat- carrying ship or a collier. She flies the " house " flag of some shipping firm — looks as though she might be a Dane ; probably is. And yet a neutral should not be carrying a 6-inch gun forrard, and — there's another one aft. COMBAT 105 And, one could swear to that being a machine-gun of sorts perched up amidships. A sea mist lies thick and heavy over the water, blotting out the coast line on either beam. Out in the Kattegat, a few miles south of the little island of Laso, a British cruiser moves slowly through the water, making perhaps 10 knots. Astern of her is a second. But you cannot make her out in the darkness ; and yet she keeps perfect station on her leader. A third and a fourth follow. The captain on the bridge of the leading ship gulps down a cup of boiling coffee and munches at a biscuit. To him enters the commander. A brief report : then — " Anything doing, sir ? " asks the commander. " Nothing," answers the skipper. " We shall see just about as much as we're seeing now." And he points forrard where the slim bows melt into a grey nothingness. " What exactly are we after ? " asks the com- mander, buttoning his " lammy " coat more tightly round his throat. " A raider, mostly," says the skipper. " She's due out of the Sound about 8.0 this morning, chock- a-block with prize crews — a young Emden over again — and under the usual neutral colours. She carries three 6-inch, they say." " How those Admiralty chaps get ' the office ' about it beats me," remarks the commander. " It's mighty smart of our Intelligence to grab the news at all, but how they get it across to our side " A shrug of the shoulders completed the sentence. ' There are ten armed patrols, too, on the way. 106 THE SEAFARERS They'll need a bit of mopping up in this fog," says the skipper. ' Destroyers' work as usual, I suppose," the commander grumbles. " We never get a look in." The vague greyness of the air became more visible as daylight tried to struggle through. The cruisers churned steadily on. A dim smudge of black, another and another, raced suddenly across the leader's bows. " They'll get it in the neck one of these days," said the commander, " and serve 'em right too, coming across like that. It's young Worthington. Never looks where he's going." " Never did such a thing yourself, I suppose," remarked the skipper with a chuckle ; for the com- mander's skill and daring as " owner " of a destroyer had been a pass-word in the Force. The connecting link of destroyers made south at 30 knots. Twenty miles or so away more black smudges flitted restlessly to and fro on ceaseless patrol ; men at " action stations," hands on gun- levers and lanyards, ready to the instant. On the northern edge of the Jutland Bank reef four British battle-cruisers patrolled majestically, screens of more destroyers to south and east of them ; watching, waiting. A hundred-and-fifty miles to the westward again, far out in the North Sea, nine mighty battleships steamed slowly on a zigzag course the while they watched with interest and amusement their faithful destroyers settling accounts with an enemy sub- marine or two. Over the Kattegat the woolly vapour swirls in COMBAT 107 heavy folds of raw dankness. The last hour of the waiting creeps slowly by. She is now clear of The Sound is our innocent, lamb-like neutral. The "Marie, of Flensburg," they call her, but men have known her by another name. Quietly unsuspecting (who would harm a peace- loving Dane ?), eagerly hopeful of fat prizes to be gathered from the Atlantic trade-routes, she follows her steady course to the north. And behind her huddle along the ten faithful attendant spirits whom she will shortly leave behind to deal with the fool- hardy submarines of the hated Englander when he madly ventures into the sacred waters of the Father- land. The captain of the good ship Marie looks at his watch. It marks 8.25. Time for the second breakfast. He turns. One foot off the bridge, when — A sharp, barking report, and the whistle of a shell a few yards in front of the Marie's bows. A long, lean shape flashes out from the mist close flush with the water, and a voice hailing, " Heave to ! What ship is that ? " The Marie captain stands stock-still in amaze- ment. A second hail on the other quarter from another black smudge. " Heave to ! What ship is that ? " Men come running along the Marie's dick. There is a wild babble of shouts and oaths. Out from the mist, more faintly now — " Heave to ! ' A second shell crosses the bows. The captain rasps out a string of guttural oat lis and commands mingled. Gun crews rush forrard 108 THE SEAFARERS and aft to uncover the guns. A little ball climbs up the mast, clings for a moment at the head, and breaks out — into the German ensign. In one mighty burst as though from a single control six British destroyers open fire. Like a drunken man the Marie staggers and reels to the shock. Before a minute has gone, or ever she can fire a single gun, a score of shells have burst within her, and her decks, bridge, and concealed batteries are riddled through and through by a hail of machine-gun bullets. The destroyers race by, circle and return, and never for an instant does the storm abate. Nor from the Marie can men see anything of their assailants save the flashes of their guns and smudges in the mist. Within five minutes she was blazing fiercely in every quarter. Her guns were swept overboard, or lay heaps of tangled debris on the deck. From below men poured up the hatchways and ran shrieking about, fighting the flames with naked hands. Swiftly the destroyers close in. Now it is point- blank range — and showers of sparks, burning wood, and scraps of molten metal rain upwards, down, into the sea, and on to the destroyers' decks as the shells crash through the Marie's hull, now glowing fiercely. A great explosion aft, and men are pouring over the side, panic-stricken, going headlong into the sea. The German colours come fluttering and torn dragged down the mast, and, as she strikes her flag, the Marie gives one shuddering heave — and is gone. Less than ten minutes from the opening shot COMBAT 109 saw her end. Thirty of her men were killed, thirty- were saved by the destroyers, and a handful who had got away on a lifeboat eventually reached the Danish coast. The main piece of the work was finished but there remained the ten armed patrol ships. At the first alarm these had separated, fleeing hither and thither like frightened sheep, making back to The Sound. But more destroyers had closed that gap ; and so the hunt began through the mist. " If ten ships out of eleven were taken I would never call it well enough done if we were able to get at the eleventh." So said Nelson once in rebuke of one of his admirals. And so said the Senior Officer of the British destroyers that November morning. One by one they rounded up those patrol ships. As they were discovered here and there in the mist so were they attacked and fought. And as they were fought so were they as surely destroyed. The round-up was complete. Not one escaped. By 9.30 a.m. the light cruisers and destroyers had concentrated once again and were on the way homeward without a single casualty. Oh yes, I remember one man sprained his ankle. Late that evening German destroyers and sea-planes were reported as " hurrying north." At 4.0 p.m. the Lion and her three consorts turned about and steamed for home. The faithful destroyers were culled in from hunting U-boats, for all the world as you call your dog to heel from nosing for rats down a stream, and at 5.0 p.m. the King George V. and her eight consorts took their homeward no THE SEAFARERS course. Twenty-four hours' steaming, and they entered Scapa Flow. By 5.30 p.m. on November 3, all ships were back again at their bases " according to plan." " Don't call me till 9.0 to-morrow," said the captain of the big ship. He had spent the fifty-two hours on the bridge without a single break. " What about a gentle gin and vermouth," said the commander of the same as he emerged from the secluded safety of the bowels of the ship.* ' Thought you said there were some Hun battle- ships about," said " Pay " to " Guns." f "Another dud stunt," groused leading- stoker Chapman, " and us sweating blood down there for nothing." But what the "snotties" % said about it is not fit for publication. The episode calls for little comment, the conduct of the whole affair speaks for itself. The merest glance at the map reveals the daring of it all. "England's frontiers are high-water mark on the enemy's coasts." And yet it was but of a piece with the regular routine of the British Navy. That is the real point to be borne in mind. Five days out of every seven in the early half of the War was the Grand Fleet out cruising to and fro in the North Sea. Patrolling by the enemy coasts, offering the most tempting baits, hoping and * The commander of a battleship in action is supposed to remain in the safest possible place ready to take command in case the captain becomes a casualty. t Paymaster and Gunnery-Commander. X Midshipmen. COMBAT in praying always that the gage of battle would be picked up. But no. If the enemy won't come out you cannot make him do so. As Admiral Beatty put it one day. " It's like one man sitting in a coal-hole, and another man outside with a meat-chopper waiting to smash him on the head directly he puts it out." Nor would it be a particularly happy encounter for any enemy to meet the Grand Fleet out at its strength. For I wonder how many persons could guess off-hand the area of sea covered by the Fleet steaming in cruising formation. Here is an idea : — 10 Miles (across) j\ in ~ _l h- - Q. 8? tn i =! °- Q O Z o - V 10 Miles (across 1 V — > or an area of about 1,000 square miles. One point, though, about that Kattegat episode is worth especial notice. How did our Admiralty know so precisely the enemy's plans and the where- abouts of the various ships ? Frankly, I haven't the faintest notion. I have questioned a large number of senior officers on the ii2 THE SEAFARERS subject, but the reply has always been the same, " No idea." Nor was that merely the proper re- ticence of the naval officer. They really did not know how our Secret Service garnered its news nor, most startling of all, how the news was transmitted from Germany. It was a mystery to all, save the brilliant officer who was the head of the Intelligence Service at the Admiralty.* Some day it is to be hoped that he will add many more to the fascinating " s Py " yarns he has already published. People talk of the extraordinary efficiency of the German Secret Service, and it was remarkably efficient, up to a point. But, having seen a good deal of both German and British systems I feel convinced that ours was by far the superior of the two. And the superiority lay in the fact that the British Service, having gathered any special in- formation, brought imagination and power of deduc- tion to bear upon the facts ; an intelligent antici- pation of enemy movements. The German Service, with the usual German passion for detail, carefully secured and noted the most minute points of in- formation (e.g., all the blacksmiths' forges and wells, etc., etc., in the Eastern Counties), and then pigeon- holed them. The big things, like the sailing of the original Expeditionary Force and Admiral Sturdee's expedition to the Falkland Islands, were completely missed. And everyone knows how hopelessly the enemy was at fault in the matter of psychology. Returning, then, to the policy of offence and attack it will be noted that I speak almost always * Rear-Admiral Sir W. R. Hall, K.C.M.G., R.N. COMBAT 113 of the actual operations of squadrons and ships rather than of the strategy evolved and dictated by My Lords Commissioners at the Admiralty. I do not pretend to the least competence in discussing such a weighty matter as that. The average regimental officer never fails in heaping ridicule upon the men and methods of the War Office as an institution and authority. The executive naval officer does just the same with the Admiralty. It seems foolish, but the fact remains, and it is almost universal. The general idea was summed up in a remark a certain distinguished Rear- Admiral made to me in 1917 : " Directly an officer goes to the Admiralty he seems at once to become a blither- ing idiot." That, of course, is absurd ; for my informant would have been the last to apply such a term to, say, Admiral Jellicoe, or Admiral Hall. But I merely quote it to suggest how the executive always ap- pears to regard the administrative.* And great is the glee when the latter is scored off in any way. And that reminds me of a rather quaint incident in which a Divisional Head-Quarter Staff figured a little while back. It has nothing to do with the Navy so it should not properly be included here. Anyway, I'll tell it for my own enjoyment ; for I am, or was, only a mere regimental officer myself. * When Admiral Jellicoe became First Sea Lord he had as colleagues live other Sea Lords from the Grand Fleet, and a sixth had also returned from active service. Never was there a Board of Admiralty in which so much recent sea experience was to be found, or in which the members were so young in years. I make this remark in view of the Press and other attacks at the time that the Hoard was composed mainly of doddering old fossils. I ii 4 THE SEAFARERS One of our smaller but always gallant Allies desired to honour a certain British division which had been doing good work on their frontiers. So they intimated to the General Head-Quarters that they were conferring a specified number of decora- tions of the Order of the Yellow Cobra (or whatever it was) in its several grades. The senior grade for the General, and so on down to the rank and file. " Thank you very much," said General Head- Quarters. And the Staff proceeded to allot the decorations according to the prevailing idea of order of merit, viz., Grades 1, 2, amongst the red-tabbed, brass-hatted ones ; grade 3 to the regimental officers ; grade 4 to the N.C.O.s ; and grade 5 fetched up with a private. In due course the decorations themselves arrived from the Allied Government. And then to the utter consternation of the Staff it was discovered that Grade 5 was the senior grade of the Order. So the lucky private received a glorious insignia blazing with brilliants which carried with it the privilege of special trains and the turning out of guards of honour. And the General received the one which was reserved for station-masters for shunting engines properly. After that little digression we will hark back once again. And it will be as well to begin a new page. Mainly about Jutland Bank " Something must be left to chance ; nothing is sure in a Sea fight beyond all others. Shot will carry away the Masts and Yards of friends as well as foes .... But in case Signals can neither be seen nor perfectly understood, no Captain can do very wrong if he places his Ship alongside that of an Enemy." — Nelson. ( The Trafalgar Memorandum.) " Seek out and destroy the enemy fleet " is an admirable maxim if it be regarded as a moral in- spiration. But like many another "wise saw" it is often not only impossible of realisation but also even inadvisable to put it into practice. To take one imaginary instance. Suppose one day during the spring of 1915 a strong destroyer attack had been made by Germany against the Grand Fleet in its undefended harbour at Scapa. That at the same time two squadrons of German battleships or battle-cruisers had crept up the Nor- wegian coast and slipped through into the Atlantic on to the trade routes. What would have been the position had the Grand Fleet (or what was left of it) gone pell-mell after the enemy into the Atlantic to seek and destroy them, and left the East Coast open to invasion — the main point of the enemy's scheme ? Naturally such a contingency had been fully provided for on our side; and (here arc several pre- cedents in our history which might well apply, "5 n6 THE SEAFARERS making proper allowances for modern innovations like wireless, mines and submarines, the need for coaling bases, etc., and for the British preponderance of strength over the German. For instance, during the Napoleonic wars, in 1804, Admiral Cornwallis gave to his second-in-command an order which well illustrates the seasoned views of the Naval Command of those days : — " If the French put to sea without any of your vessels seeing them, do not follow them, unless you are absolutely sure of the course they have taken. If you leave the entrance of the Channel without protection, the enemy might profit by it, and assist the invasion which threatens His Majesty's dominions, the protection of which is your principal object." * As a matter of fact at that very time Napoleon had 35,000 men ready for landing in Ireland or Scotland as soon as the way was clear. Five of his men-of-war, with some frigates, put out to sea in a dense fog, to act partly as decoys but, unluckily for them, the weather suddenly cleared, they were sighted and promptly chased back into port. But such a move by Germany as I have sug- gested might very well have been made in the early days of the war. And what an unenlightened public would have said, even had it been no more than moderately successful, I do not care to contemplate. If only Germany had taken that maxim to heart and acted upon it, then I am afraid that we should have had a very bad time of it for a spell. (For the * I am indebted for the reference to Sir Julian Gorbett's " Prin- ciples of Maritime Strategy." COMBAT 117 moment, you see I am suggesting the other side of the picture.) In the first volume of this little War trilogy* I have pointed out how Germany lost her greatest chance of the campaign in not attacking by sea in August, 1914 ; but it is not, I think, gener- ally realised what havoc she could have played at Scapa Flow had she been so minded. For Scapa Flow, at least during the first year, was absolutely undefended. If Rear-Admiral Sir Reginald Tyrwhitt had been in command of the German destroyer flotillas Britain would have lost half her battleships within the first four months. They tell in the Navy the story how two German spies, disguised as shepherds, spent some months in the Orkneys after the outbreak of war to make plans of the defences of Scapa Flow. After diligent search they got back to Berlin with the report, " But there are no defences." " Oho ! ' said the Wilhelmstrasse Secret Service Head-Quarters. " They have been getting at you, have those cursed Englanders. This means a firing- party for you before breakfast." So they took those two agents out and shot them. The next week the Wilhelmstrasse sent other two to the Orkneys. And the second two, after diligent search, returned to Berlin. But these men were wiser in their generation, remembering what had befallen their brethren. And they produced to the gratified gaze of their superior officers a series of beautifully executed blue prints, drawings and tracings of wondrous concealed gun emplacements, * " The Retreat from Monv," page 29. n8 THE SEAFARERS fortifications, harbour booms, and other devices. ' Good boys," said the Wilhelmstrasse, " here is an Iron Cross apiece for you. You have nobly earned it. The Fatherland is proud of you." But the first two were right. Yes, Germany had some astonishing chances at sea in those early days. Had the enemy Navy ex- hibited a very small degree of enterprise, an ordinary amount of courage, the story told would be a very different one, and we should most certainly have lost heavily.* We must needs return to the root of the matter. It is not the ships, nor the guns, nor the instruments which count, it is the men who man and serve them. " If the enemy should close I have no fears as to the result." However, Germany, though very strong at sea, was the weaker power. And as is the almost in- variable policy of the weaker power she elected to remain in port and adopt the system of " worrying " tactics. And, after the first few months, there were thousands of Allied merchant ships passing upon the High Seas ; not one of Germany's. Thousands of soldiers crossing the ocean daily ; not one of Germany's. Some seven thousand odd miles of British coast line open to attack ; of Germany — a glance at the map will show. If battle was joined with the German ships then, as was inevitable, the action was fought with Germany naming the con- ditions of time and place. And those conditions, * Remember how the cruisers, the Aboukir, Hague, and Cressy ) were sunk within a half-hour by a single enemy submarine. COMBAT 119 naturally enough, were wholly to Germany's ad- vantage ; on the eastern side of the North Sea, in mine-strewn, shallow waters, close against enemy harbours.* But, and this should never be forgotten, the Royal Navy was content always to accept those conditions and to fight whenever and wherever the enemy could be brought to fight. " Content," did I say ? Well, hardly that. For the Navy wanted to secure a final decision. And that was never possible when Germany called the terms of the fight. " Next time," a naval officer said to me in September, 1918, " we are going to see that the Huns fight over on our side. No more rotten finishes like Jutland for us." And one recalls several spirited actions fought under enemy terms. The fight in the Heligoland Bight and the glory of H.M.S. Arethusa ; the grim chase of January 24, '15, after the fleeing enemy and the sinking of the Blucher ; the destruction of four enemy destroyers by H.M.S. Undaunted, and three British destroyers on October 17, '14. But after a while even such trifles as these were denied the Royal Navy, and after Jutland Bank all that seemed possible was to watch and wait as a cat crouches before a mouse-hole. A great Fleet action has ever been a compara- tively rare thing all through history. The number of really decisive Fleet actions you may count on the fingers of the two hands. Victories, I mean, by * I believe it was Francis Drake who once remarked that with the advantage of lime and place the victory was already half won. 120 THE SEAFARERS which the political object in view was definitely and finally won. Even the defeat of the Spanish Armada was not, in this respect, decisive. And though Nelson's seamen and ships at Trafalgar were the victors of Waterloo yet the great land victory, and the final overthrow of Napoleon, were actually secured ten years later, by which time France had another fleet. The Battle of Jutland Bank, the only Fleet action of the late war, is now seen to have been far more decisive and important a victory than was realised even six months after the event. We know now not only from German sources but from personal observation what a smashing defeat it was for Germany. Such a defeat that many of the big ships were later on actually scrapped to build sub- marines from the material. " Another hour of daylight would have finished it," said a German naval gunnery officer recently. " The way we were utterly crushed from the moment your battle-fleet came into action took the heart out of our men. Our final escape was partly due to skilful handling, but more to the good luck which had been with us almost from the first." * " It took the heart out of our men." The " human element " again. There is the secret, and the most important feature of the battle. The Germans are not seamen. It is a nation of lands- men with nothing of the sea instinct and tradition in them. When Cromwell's soldiers took to the sea they fought and adventured as to the sea- * I am indebted to a report in The Times of January 14th, 1919, for this interesting corroboration. COMBAT 121 manner born, for they were of a race of islanders one and all imbued with the sea instinct. At the beginning of the Jutland Battle the Ger- man gunnery was excellent. This is universally admitted. But when our own guns got to work upon the enemy ships the German gunnery went all to pieces. Many explained this by suggesting that the German range-finding and control instruments were better than ours, but also of a more delicate character. Thus they were unable to withstand the prolonged shocks of shell impact. But the real explanation is given by the officer just quoted. The moral of the German sailors was broken.* It was broken in the first and only Fleet action, and it never recovered. Officers tried to trick the crews into putting to sea again, but they always refused. The mutiny of November, 1918, was the climax. The surrender of the German battleships and their imprisonment at Scapa has revealed some other interesting details about the German ideas of sea-service. Most comical of all is the fact that the German ships were not built for living in. The sailors were accustomed to live in great barracks on shore. So when they have at last been compelled to live on board at Scapa their days and nights have been one long round of wails, curses and grousing. But what a delicious piece of poetic justice ! * Being but human I cannot resist the " I told you so." But readers of this book who have also listened to the Recital will recall that since July, 191G, I have steadily urged this as the dominating factor. 122 THE SEAFARERS As I write, the German ships have been there for some six weeks only. Our men lived on board in comfort, though rather overcrowded, for four and a half years. I wonder what the German sailor would have said had he served in the ships of Nelson's time. " Four year out from home she was, and ne'er a week in port," as Henry Newbolt sings of " The Old Superb." Also the Germans are compelled to live in the horrible filth which, apparently, is the normal con- dition of any of their warships. The British sailor- man has learned now that a very ordinary sense of smell would have served one of our look-out men quite as usefully as good eyesight. But anyone with the least experience of German manners and customs knows how beastly, depraved and disgusting are their habits. Also (but this was well known before the war) the German big ships are built so that they may bring the heaviest concentration of gun-fire right astern. ' In other words,' as George Robey would say, they are designed for running away. Again, what a comment upon German ideas of sea-warfare ! No wonder their moral snapped as it did. Really, one is compelled to raise one's hat to William Hohenzollern for having created a Navy at all under such conditions. The story of Jutland Bank naturally demands the best part of a volume to itself, and I shall not attempt even an outline sketch of it here. There are, however, one or two points about the action to which I would invite attention, taking a few COMBAT 123 passages from Admiral Jellicoe's official Despatch* by way of text. Now, naval Official Despatches in these days are not easy reading. They strike the layman as being too technical and therefore he does not read them. They lack the " human " touch. The Navy replies that they are intended solely for My Lords of the Admiralty, as an official narrative of events. For the moment, then, we will let the matter pass,| trying once again to read between the lines. At the outset please note the opening of the despatch : " The ships of the Grand Fleet, in pursuance of the general policy of periodical sweeps through the North Sea, had left its bases on the previous day, in accordance with instructions issued by me." There is given the lie direct to all who maintain the " barnacle " notion of the Grand Fleet's masterly inactivity. " The general policy of periodical sweeps through the North Sea." When battle was joined Admiral Beatty ordered away a sea-plane to observe and report upon the enemy strength. Here is the passage of the despatch : " By 3.8 P.M. a sea-plane . . . was well under way ; her first reports of the enemy were received . . . about 3.30 p.m. Owing to clouds it was necessary to ily very low, and in order to identify four enemy light cruisers the sea-plane had to fly at a height of 900 feet within 3,000 yards of them, the light cruisers opening fire * Supplement to the London Gazelle, July 6, 1916. t In the " Author's Note " at the end of the volume I pro- pose to deal more fully with the question of naval publicity vis-d-vis the general public. In the meantime, however, I would invite a perusal of Admiral Collingwood's despatch on the Bailie of Trafalgar, printed in the appendix, lie, at any rate, was not ashamed to write with emotion. i2 4 THE SEAFARERS on her with every 'gun that would bear. This in no way interfered with the clarity of their reports, and both Flight-Lieutenant Rut- land and Assistant-Paymaster Trewin are to be congratulated on their achievement, which indicates that sea-planes under such circumstances are of distinct value." Well, I should say so ! Just imagine the episode. That little sea- plane with her two men in her flying at no more than 300 yards above the sea, and within 3,000 yards (no distance for naval guns) of four enemy warships which opened fire on her with every gun that would bear. " But this in no way interfered with the clearness of their reports." All in the day's work, you see. One can only tackle a Naval Despatch properly by taking it sentence by sentence and concentrating hard upon the picture suggested ; trying to visualise the conditions. It is a difficult job, though. Then take this little piece of work on the part of the destroyers : " Twelve destroyers (named) having been ordered to attack the enemy with torpedoes when opportunity offered moved out simultaneously with a similar movement on the part of the enemy destroyers. The attack was carried out in the most gallant manner, and with great determination. Before arriving at a favourable position to fire torpedoes they intercepted an enemy force con- sisting of a light cruiser and fifteen destroyers. A fierce engage- ment resulted at close quarters, with the result that the enemy were forced to retire on their battle-cruisers, having lost two destroyers sunk, and having their torpedo attack frustrated. Our destroyers sustained no loss." Now, what about that ? It needs no great effort to visualise that picture. 12 British de- stroyers versus 15 German, and a light cruiser thrown in to make up the weight. And then the enemy couldn't pull it off. They lost a couple of destroyers ; still one to the good, + the light cruiser. COMBAT 125 But they decided instead to turn tail and get under shelter where they could lick their sores in momentary peace. Again I say, what about it ? Do you not thrill to the thought that you belong to the same race as the men of the 9th, 10th, and 13th Flotillas of H.M. Destroyers ? But throughout the battle and throughout the war has the story been the same with the destroyers.* " They surpassed the very highest expectations that I had formed of them" said Admiral Jellicoe. No higher praise can be given. " Should the enemy close I have no fears as to the result." Never in his day was the superb faith of Nelson more superbly justified. And can you not see the figure of Nelson standing by the side of his successor upon the bridge of the Iron Duke and ordering the making of the good old Navy signal, " Manoeuvre well executed " ? Twice only in the Despatch is there a break-away from the cold formalism of an official narrative. The Third Battle-cruiser Squadron, commanded by Rear-Admiral the Hon. Horace L. A. Hood, was ordered to reinforce Admiral Beatty. The latter officer reported : " I ordered them to take station ahead, 'which was carried out magnificently ; Rear-Admiral Hood bringing his squadron into action ahead In a most inspiring manner, worthy 01 his great naval ancestors."! * Rudyard Kipling's " Sea Warfare " contains some splendid yarns about the destroyers at Jutland. They help one admirably to read between the lines. t Compare Nelson's remark at Trafalgar as Collingwood's flag- ship the Royal Sovereign bore down upon the centre of the enemy's line and broke it : " Sec how that noble fellow, Collingwood, carries his ship into action 1 " 126 THE SEAFARERS There is no need to add to that. But no kinema picture can ever convey even a vague idea of a scene which I always think of as the most thrilling achievement of man one may ever witness ; a scene which brings the tears to the eyes, so tense is it with emotion. A squadron of battleships taking station in line ahead. The effect of it at Jutland under the leadership of that fine seaman can be dimly imagined from the comment which it evoked from Admiral Beatty. One could well take many another passage for brief comment, but I will pass to the conclusion of the narrative. And the concluding paragraph is, I suggest, perhaps the most significant and remark- able of the entire Despatch. To appreciate its real significance the reader must try his hardest to picture something of that mighty sea-fight. Imagine how Admiral Beatty gave battle to a force far superior in members ; how he sustained heavy losses, but hung on like grim death to hold the enemy fleet until his Commander-in-Chief could bring the main fleet into action. Imagine Admiral Jellicoe bringing the Grand Fleet down from the north at top speed, every ship going " all out," the " black squad " and engineers below working as though the devil were behind them (instead of in front), every ship beating its own record of speed (and it's a big strain on plates and rivets going at top notch). Imagine a little of that tremendous action when the Grand Fleet got to work, getting some hard knocks but giving back as good as they received, the weather getting dirtier and the seas bigger every half-hour. And then, after a day and COMBAT 127 a night of such almost incredible effort of battle and chase, when at last there were no more enemy ships in sight, Admiral Jellicoe reports : " At 1.15 p.m. (on June 1) . . . course was shaped for our bases which were reached on Friday, 2nd June . . . The Fleet fuelled and replenished with ammunition, and at 9.30 p.m. on 2nd June was reported ready for further action." " In other words," those ships steamed back home (a twenty-four hours' journey), refuelled with oil, coaled ship, refilled all their ammunition bunkers, got all their sick and wounded on shore, made good all their thousand and one " minor defects ' (as the Navy loves to call them), and they were ready to begin the whole business, battle and every- thing, all over again inside of eight hours. And if that's not efficiency, I'd like to know what is. Now, as before, we will take another picture to hang by the side of that one. It may be recalled that after the battle the almighty, all-highest, omniscient, God-given Kaiser promulgated to an eagerly-waiting world the news of the glorious victory which had been won by his all-powerful, invincible High-Seas Fleet. He told how at last the " nimbus of sea-supremacy ' had departed from the English Fleet (how the Grand Fleet rocked with delight !), and how — but you will know the usual kind of nonsense At the end of the proclamation, however, the all-highest was constrained to add a little postscript — just tossed in by way of an afterthought. And the postscript was t<> the effect that " for the present the German Fleet must remain in Kiel Harbour." 128 THE SEAFARERS Now our old friend Punch had a word or two to say on the subject, and I cannot do better than quote him. About ten days after Jutland Punch came out with a cartoon. And the picture, as I remember it, showed, on the left, the tops of the masts and funnels of the German ships peeping up above the battlements of Kiel. Around the fortress ran heavy lines of barbed wire, and out- side the gate stood a typical German sentry with fixed bayonet. And down the road on the right there came a typical Herr Professor and a typical Frau Pro- fessor, his wife — with dog and sausage attachment — and they went up to the German sentry and said plaintively : " But can't we see our victorious High Seas Fleet ? " " No ! " snapped the sentry. " Nobody can ! ' British Fleet — Ready again in eight hours. German Fleet — Not ready in two and a half years. And here is a little comment from a German paper, the Tdgliche Rundschau, of December 24, 1918, which, with exquisite artlessness, provides the finish- ing touch. The commander of a surrendered German destroyer tells his experiences at Scapa Flow : " An English battleship," he writes, " lies not far from us. We see the English sailors on board parading from 9 to 12. We did not do that even in times of deepest peace. Our men are astonished.' ' * No wonder Admiral Beatty spoke with such scathing contempt of the German Navy, so voicing * The italics are, of course, not in the original. COMBAT 129 the opinion of every officer and man under his command.* Last of all comes the tribute of appreciation and praise which the Commander-in-Chief paid to the officers and men under his command — that " band of brothers." I will not reproduce it here, save for two sentences, but read it, I beg, for your- self. For a copy of the Despatch should occupy an honoured place in every home of the Empire. Here are just two or three lines to serve once again for a couple of pictures : " Officers and men were cool and determined, with a cheeriness that would have carried them through anything. The heroism of the wounded was the admiration of all. 1 cannot adequately express the pride with which the spirit of the Fleet filled me." » " The heroism of the wounded." How I wish I could sketch anything of a picture of the scene in the sick-bay or the distributing stations below deck of a battleship in a modern naval action. Far too little is said of the splendid work performed by the Naval Medical Service afloat and ashore. Who of the general public have ever even heard the names of Sir James Porter, Sir Arthur May, Fleet-Surgeon D. W. Hewitt, Fleet-Surgeon R. C. Munday — men to whom the Senior Service and the nation owe a very deep debt of gratitude ? Imagine, then, if you can, a distributing station on board amid the reek and roar of battle. The forrard station has been broken in by a shell and all the work is diverted to the all station already overburdened. A floating fortress of steel which shivers and rocks under the incessanl hail of shell — •The Admiral's speech is reproduced in the Appendix. J i 3 o THE SEAFARERS some that pour down from the heavens, others that tear great rents through the sides of gun turrets or hull. The air-pressure smashes down great doors and bulkheads, and bulges inwards or out- wards massive steel plates as though they were cardboard. Dense clouds of smoke and poisonous gas-fumes roll down the hatchways, choking, suffo- eating. The horror of darkness where the electric- light cables are cut ; but the stifling glow of molten metal where the steel burns. The water pouring in through holes in the ship's side — and through it all the ship's surgeons do their work. Along gangways, down from the batteries, bridges and tops passes the dim procession of mangled humanity. Borne tenderly by comrades, stumbling blindly, groping, gasping, they stagger this way and that. Here a man tears madly at his gas-mask for air — where no air is. Another beats with scarred hands at his legs blazing with oil. And, in the station, fifty more ghastly forms lying here and there ; and over a makeshift operating table a young surgeon bends, cleaning and cutting by the light of a tiny electric torch. (Two months ago he walked a London hospital.) And clear through the thunderous din a voice hails : " We've sunk another of the b s." And I see those figures dimly through the smoke ; I see them raise themselves ; I see the poor form on the table prop himself upon his elbow. I see those men, those — Britons. And, drowning the crash of the bursting shell, I hear roll out a mighty British cheer, because " we've sunk another of the s." COMBAT 131 " Why do they cheer ? " asked the dying Nelson, as the shouts of the Victory s men came to him as he lay. " They cheer," he was told, " because another ship has struck." " And at every hurrah a visible expression of joy gleamed in the eyes and marked the countenance of the dying hero." * "A cheeriness which would have carried them through anything." And the stories illustrating that cheeriness and astonishing sense of detachment on the part of ollicers and men are endless. As it was with our soldiers in the Flanders trenches, so also was it in the Senior Service. There is, for instance, the story of an incident which has long since passed into a legend in the Grand Fleet, but it may possibly be new to some who read this. It is the story of how a couple of stokers got a breath of fresh air in the middle of the Jutland battle. Remember that here was the greatest sea-fight known in history, picturing to yourselves all that you may imagine of the hideous din, the smoke, flame, and smell. And right in the middle of the action, a couple of the "black squad' thrust their grimy, stream- ing heads up through a hatchway just to sec how things were going and to get a ' breather.' They had evidently started some animated discussion down below in the stokehold, for I hey were carry- ing it on up above as they looked out. And a petty * Soulhey's, " Life of Nelson." 132 THE SEAFARERS officer who was by at the moment overheard a fragment of the conversation. Said one to the other with great firmness : " But wot I says is, 'e ought to have married the girl." * Always, it seems, is this cheeriness of spirit in battle to be found amongst British stock. And one recalls, out of many similar incidents, the story of the great fight between the Brunswick and the French Vengeur, when Lord Howe won his famous victory of " the Glorious First of June." For hour after hour the fierce duel had lasted, the ships lying so close together that the Brunswick could only raise the lids of the lower deck port-holes by blowing them off with gun-fire. The figure-head of the Brunswick was an effigy of the famous Duke of that name ; and in the course of the action his hat was shot off. Such disrespect could not be tolerated ; so the sailormen sent a solemn deputation to Captain Harvey and requested the loan of his gold-laced hat with which to cover his Grace's head. The request was granted, the hat was nailed on, and the fight was continued. And there we will leave the Despatch. But there is one officer of whom that record of gallantry and skill and heroism makes no mention. The Commander-in-Chief, Admiral Sir John Rushworth Jellicocj" In an earlier volume I ventured to pay a poor tribute to another great man of action, General * But history, alas ! does not tell us why. t Now, of course, Viscount Jellicoe of Scapa. COMBAT 133 Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien.* I offered it with great diffidence, for I wrote as a regimental officer under his command. But I wrote also as one who had had the privilege of working with the General out- side active service. It is in similar fashion that I write of Admiral Jellicoe. In sympathetic terms Admiral Jellicoe spoke of Sir David Beatty's fine work at Jutland : " I can fully sympathise with his (Sir David's) feelings when the evening mist and fading light robbed the Fleet of that complete victory for which he had manoeuvred, and for which the vessels in company with him had striven so hard." But what must have been the feelings of the Commander-in-Chief ? Of the executive naval officer and seaman I do not presume to speak. Only his peers may do that. Certainly not a civilian. History will tell how Admiral Jellicoe served his country while he filled his great office. But as a comrade, as a man, as an unselfish, modest, gallant and courteous English gentleman Admiral Jellicoe had the affectionate admiration, the love of every officer and man Avho was privileged to serve under liis command. The country, too, must not forget that it was Admiral Jellicoe, ;is First Sea Lord, who perfected Hie plans for dealing with the submarine menace. Taking up I he heavy burden of the senior Naval Administrator under conditions which were as cruel ;i> any such officer has ever had to face, meeting demands such as no Board of Admiralty has ever before had to meet, Admiral Jellicoe and his col- * " The Retreat from Mons," page 2:52. 134 THE SEAFARERS leagues grappled with the problem and defeated it. The Admiral left office before the menace was actually overcome, but his were the hands that fashioned the weapon. But the Grand Fleet itself is the bravest testimony to the Admiral's genius. The knitting together of Britain's ships into the most superb fighting force that the world has ever seen. The ships will pass, but the memory of it and of their first Commander- in-Chief never. Admiral Jellicoe has lived and worked, as a Naval Officer must, outside the fierce limelight of publicity and popular hero-worship. Nor would he have had it otherwise. Others may gather to themselves the rewards of his high endeavour : but if ever a man, and a great seaman, might, in his passing, echo with perfect truth the immortal last words of the dying Nelson, " Thank God, I have done my duty ! " that man is Admiral Lord Jellicoe. Light Craft, and Single Ship Actions "Though we are but eleven to eighteen or twenty, we won't part without a battle." — Nelson, at the West Indies. But this has been a war in which, for the most part, the big ships have had, perforce, to stand clear and give sea-room to their smaller sisters. And what extraordinary fights some of those smaller craft have put up. And what a catalogue it would be if only a complete list, day by day, from August, '14, could be compiled. But the half will certainly pass unrecorded. Here is an old merchant tramp, with never a gun or rifle aboard of her„ smashing and sinking an enemy submarine. There is a destroyer capturing an enemy air-craft. A British submarine puts to flight a troop of Turkish cavalry and oversets by shell fire half a dozen motor-lorries of ammunition : and by way of revenge, it would seem, we have a motor-lorry sinking a submarine by falling on top of her.* Then there is the sea-plane which took a ship prisoner and shepherded her safely into port —oh ! and scores more of such queer topsy-turvy happenings. But if you were to ask any officer or man of the Fleet who, in his opinion, are the men and the ships that have done the big work of the war I * Have you not beard that little story of poetic justice ? It shall be told later uti. 135 136 THE SEAFARERS will wager that always you will receive the same answer. And the answer is, " Hats off to the destroyers ! " I have already tried to suggest something of the character of their work and how it has been carried out. But again we want a whole volume on the subject alone. It was Rear- Admiral Tyrwhitt who was amongst the first of naval officers to appreciate the great possibilities for T.B.D.'s in war. That was during the eighteen months or so before the outbreak in '14, at a time when Reginald Tyrwhitt was Captain in command of the Second Destroyer Flotilla. I believe, though, that he had a hard tussle before he was able to get his views and ideas adopted. But now, what a record of service is- theirs — those little grey ships. If the Navy had possessed three, four times the number of destroyers that have been ours yet there would not have been enough for the work. A T.B.D. would return to her base after a long spell of. North Sea gales : she finds no time to re-fuel and re-victual — let alone win any rest or a few hours' shore-leave for the men — before she is ordered out again. Imagine what it must be like up north of the Shetlands in mid-winter, with the cardboard sides thickness of a destroyer between you and the fiercest storms and heaviest seas of any waters on the face of the globe. Imagine clambering on to the tiny bridge in oilskins which are soaked through to your skin inside of five minutes ; when you've no more chance of getting a dry stitch on you for another ten days COMBAT 137 than you have of dropping that night into the Goat Club * for a gin and bitters. Imagine those mighty seas twenty and thirty feet high crashing across the bows and the spray turning to ice as it falls ; when you will not get any warm food or drink inside you from one week's end to another. And you " carry on '" dead tired, dog weary, frost-bitten toes and fingers — you carry on because it's your job. That is what those men of the destroyers and their gallant commanders have been doing. And I have seen one of those destroyers limping back into port looking for all the world like a battered kerosene tin. " Any complaints ? ' you hail the " owner," half jokingly. " Complaints ! I should think so ! " comes the reply. " The blighters went and put a shell first go off straight into the galley and we haven't been able to get a mouthful of hot grub for nearly a w< ek." Not a word, you observe, about the makeshift collision mats which prevent the engine-room from receiving more than its fair share of the Pentland Firth. Or the breaking in of the foremost bulk- head. Or the carrying overboard by shell lire of most of her guns. No mention of the smashed steering-gear and wireless aerials, and the 9 knots which is all the steam they can raise. No. The same dear old complaint which the sailorman has made since Cain and Abel paddled a coracle down * A pleasant little nook not a hundred miles from Piccadilly Circus, and not quite unknown to R.N. Ollicers. 138 THE SEAFARERS the Hiddekel (before their little difference of opinion), " What about the grub ? " As Pepys naively remarked two hundred and fifty years ago, — " To make any abatement from the Seamen in the quantity or agreeableness of the victuals is to provoke them in the tenderest point." For your sailorman is a good trencherman as may readily be imagined. And a shortage in the victualling department hits him more hardly in the " tenderest point " than it might you or me. A burly A.B. drifted into an eating-house in the Farringdon Road and asked what there was for dinner. " There's roast pork," said the girl, " and roast beef, boiled leg o' mutton, sausage-and-mash, and faggots." " Ay," said the A.B., " that'll do fine— and a cup of coffee." There is no manner of work which ever comes amiss to one of His Majesty's T.B.D.'s, from acting as escort to a great battleship down to running an errand and carrying a letter. As pretty a sight as you may wish to see is that of a couple of destroyers slipping quietly into station, on either beam of, say, H.M.S. Revenge, as she leaves the Firth of Forth for the hidden dangers of the North Sea. Just as the big ship clears a certain point at the entrance, out come the two little destroyers, detached from the Flotilla. "It's all right, you poor old thing ; we're here ; we'll see you through safely," — you can imagine the little ships saying to their big sister. And you look out from your COMBAT 139 port-hole early the next morning, and sure enough, there they are. In just the same position as when you turned in the night before. And there they will remain, steaming quietly along until the big sister is back again within the gateways of the Forth. Mine-laying — that might fall under " Communi- cations " or " Combat." Anyway it is work which has fallen to the destroyers as being especially hazardous. And from the men of the destroyers the Authorities have been at pains to select the very finest in the Service. No easy task that of selection, one would imagine. At the darkest hours of the night, inside the enemy's protecting minefields, close up against the enemy coast, blocking his channels, have the -destroyers laid their mines. And the work had to be done often in a thick fog, in waters most difficult ■of navigation, within range of enemy guns, and under the very noses of his patrols. Steering a course without navigation lights through unseen enemy mines sown broadcast, where a few yards out on either beam would bring you on top of one — with an end to a gallant ship, and a few score gallant lives. lint needless to say the competition to share in the work has been as keen as it was to share in the almost certain death of the Zeebruggc affair. During the last eight months of the war the destroyers placed n<> fewer than 12,000 mines in this fashion inside the Heligoland Bight. And the result was a bag of over one hundred enemy ships. Patrol work and escort duty, examining ships 140 THE SEAFARERS on the trade routes under all conditions and in all weathers ; hunting U-boats ; saving hundreds of lives from torpedoed passenger ships and merchant- men ; and, if the Call should come, paying the price of Admiralty cheerfully as becomes the British sailor — do you remember those two destroyers driven ashore on the north of Scotland in a howling gale and a raffing snowstorm, with two souls saved out of two hundred ? But if you talk to a destroyer commander about it he will merely shrug his shoulders and remark, " Oh, well, we do see most of the fun that's going, anyway." Fun ! Well, there must be a deal of truth in the remark or there would not be such a competition to secure a job in the Flotillas. Every midshipman you meet seems to live only for the day when he may be a proud " owner ' of a destroyer. And there is always a free fight for any vacancy on board of one. You feel the stirring call in your blood, there's not a doubt of it. I have felt it many a time myself when I have been out with them — and they are jolly uncomfortable. Day in, day out, week after week, and month after month, have the destroyers " carried on." And whenever the chance comes for a fight, ready on the instant for it, under any conditions and against any odds — and, mon Dieu ! but the men of H.M. destroyers know the way to fight. Who will ever forget the story * of how the Broke (Commander Evans) and the Sivift (Commander * In the Recital I always tell this story, but as my good friend '* Bartimeus " has published it in one of his volumes I will not reproduce it here. COMBAT 141 Peck) tackled a flotilla of six enemy destroyers in the Dover Straits that April night ? Fought and smashed them, leaving three only alive to escape in the darkness. The yarn of those glorious five minutes is one of the most splendid in all our island story. When the tradition of the Royal Navy is so real and vital a thing in each and every unit of the Fleet it were invidious to discriminate. One may only say, then, that H.M. Destroyers have had most of the opportunities, and that they have seized them, and made more than the most of them. Admiral Jellicoe has said the last word. The Royal Navy, their comrades-in-arms, are proud of them. The sailorman asks nothing more.- £> And speaking of the destroyers and the manner in which they have upheld the Navy tradition, one recalls instinctively the words of Nelson which I have quoted at the head of this chapter — " We will not part without a battle." In those words, more than in any other saying that I can discover, is summed up the fighting spirit of the Royal Navy, and its demand for offensive action rather than passive defence. Rut there lies within them a deeper meaning than you would at first suspect. It is, too, some- thing of a paradox. Go straight for the enemy no matter the odds, is, as I have already told, the inspiration of the Navy's action. It is the very spirit of the offensive. Yet that does not. mean thai you musl needs fighl the enemy whenever and \vhcre\ er you may encounter him. There is 142 THE SEAFARERS the apparent contradiction. And once again we may turn to Nelson for the explanation. " Yet do not imagine," he said, " that I am one of those hot-brained people who fight at an immense disadvantage without an adequate object." In the last four words lies the key. Nelson, at the time he uttered them, was fully bent upon stopping the career of Villeneuve, the French Admiral. He. knew that the French had perhaps twenty sail of the line to his own eleven, " and therefore," he said, " do not be surprised if I do not fall on them imme- diately." But the " adequate object ' was clear enough, and so Nelson was resolved " not to part " without a fight. He might lose his eleven ships in the action, but he would not lose them without so crippling the French that they could do no further mischief for some little time. Or, as Nelson put it, ' By the time the enemy has beat our fleet soundly, they will do us no harm this year." That was the object, and it was " adequate." But, again, Nelson did not intend to fight, just for the fun of it, against heavy odds. If he was indeed compelled so to fight then he would do it in the " spirit of the offensive." But, given the chance, he preferred to wait until the conditions of time and place, wind and weather, should relieve the odds somewhat. And that is what he actually did. The Broke and the Swift engaged as they did because they must needs fight then or lose the enemy altogether. Had Commander Peck been given the choice I surmise that he would have preferred less heavy odds. But, finding his enemy, and knowing COMBAT 143 instinctively that it was then or never, he acted in the spirit of the offensive and with the happiest results. Admiral Tyrwhitt, in taking his four cruisers north to ''investigate' the matter of the fourteen battleships, did not, I imagine, propose to steam blindly into action against them. He was going to employ his light force as light cruisers should be used against battleships, to keep in touch with the enemy and report. To imagine otherwise is as good as saying that the Admiral did not know his job. Had he, in doing his duty, found it ne- cessary to fight then one may be sure that he too would have fought as the spirit of the Navy dictates. Nelson did not invent the doctrine which lie- set forth in the sentences of his I have quoted. For the general principle that offence is the best, the- only real policy had been recognised and practised by our seafarers centuries before. Drake, for in- stance, used a very similar argument when urging the Naval Authorities to allow him to attack the Armada before it should leave its home base.* But it was left lor Nelson, with his consummate genius for sea-warfare, to visualise the principle in all its forms, to crystallise it into a perfect whole, and so to give it to the world under I lie stamp of his unique authority and personality. " The Nelson touch," as his captains enthusiastically acclaimed it. * Nor again did Nelsou origin ite the fatuous " breaking of the enemy's line of battle" which was the main feature of Trafalgar. The idea was Admiral Rodney's, and by adopting it he won the victory of " TU-.. Saints'' twenty odd years before 144 THE SEAFARERS Haunted throughout the war by the depreda- tions of German U-boats our people have rather overlooked the fact that we too include submarines in our Navy. Yet our submarine service is one which might well adopt the famous motto of the Royal Scots Greys, " Second to None." It is true that we have heard but little news of their sinking enemy ships upon the high seas, but then the reason has been an excellent one — there have been no Ger- man ships on the high seas to sink. All, or most of the work has been done within enemy waters and enemy minefields. But, my masters, what do ye lack ? Is it a talc of high adventure and discovery in the frozen Arctic Seas ? I have a ballad which shall nip your fingers and shrivel your nose with the cold as you listen. A song of a winter night that holds for four eternal months, when the sun never rises, and the noonday brings but a dim twilight. When the pack-ice forms in the harbour, breaks and drifts to sea, and the snow lies three feet deep on the shore. When the cold is so intense that it hurts to put the head out to breathe ; and to fall overboard means instantaneous death. (One can fully sympathise with the member of a submarine's crew, who, on being told very bluntly by his superior officer to " go to hell," replied with equal emphasis, " Do you think I'd stay here if I could?") Or a song of an Arctic summer's day all too brief, when the land is hidden 'neath a carpet of azalea and harebells, and bees and butterflies hover from flower to flower. When a sapphire sea reflects the COMBAT 145 shimmering blue of a cloudless sky, and the skuas and wild geese, the eider duck, snow-bunting and Arctic hare make merry sport. When a man may sit upon the hull of the submarine as she lies awash and battle vaguely, hopelessly with the brown fog of mosquitoes which almost blot out the lines of the conning-tower amidships. Through Arctic summer and Arctic winter have the submarines of ours " carried on." Is it a tale of gallant bearing and incredible romance such as Jules Verne would hardly have dared to invent ? Here I have the ballad of the ' E 11," of Lieutenant-Commander M. E. Nasmith, R.N., her " owner," and of her cheery crew. It is a song of the Sea of Marmara and the Dardanelles, of waters stagnant with mines, blocking the fair- ways, of German and Turkish destroyers racing hither and thither, of land forts bristling witli guns and torpedo tubes, of enemy troopships and armed dhows passing and repassing. It is a song of the " E 11 " as she found a way beneath the mines, diving blindly with instinct at her helm to con her. It tells how she rose unnoticed before the very gates of the Turkish capital, sank a Turkish warship by the entrance, and, to celebrate the occasion, " piped all hands to bathe ' -in enemy waters. Mow with ;i damaged periscope she fought this ship and that, chasing one on shore, boarding another; engaged a body of enemy cavalry; fouled a mine and carried it on her body unable to wriggle clear until she reached friendly waters, when a neat nosc-divc and baek-somcrsault combined shook it off. A song of a fortnight's cruise and a piece of K 146 THE SEAFARERS work so performed that the Turks swore that " 11 was not her designa submarines engaged. was not her designating figure but the number of Ayr ! "lis a goodly tally, these songs of His Majesty's Submarines. Stories that shall be told, songs that shall be sung in castle and hall, cottage and ale-house, for many a year to come. Songs of unhesitating self-sacrifice for comrades like that of the heroic death of Lieutenant-Commander Goodhart ; of weary vigil and unceasing watch in the Baltic ; of fights with enemy aeroplanes ; of duels with enemy submarines. The ; " logs " that the commanders have sent in to My Lords of the Admiralty make extraordinary reading. They should be published just as they stand, for they need no comment save from an occasional footnote to explain sea and Navy ex- pressions and words. Here, for instance, are three little entries from the log of the submarine which sank the German cruiser Hela. They tell of just one quarter of an hour's work ; but to the making of it there went ten days of toil and discomfort in enemy waters, ten days of battling with nor' -westerly gales, rain squalls, heavy seas and fogs, of brut stanchions and plates, of narrow escapes from enemy mines and 7.15 a.m. — Sighted Heligoland, distant 5 miles on port; also cruiser approximately \\ to 2 miles off, and wisps of smoke in various directions. Attacked cruiser. Position 000 yards abeam cruiser (two funnels). Submarine very lively diving. Fired both bo -,y torpedoes at starboard Bide. 7.29 a.m. — Heard single loud explosion. COMBAT 147 7.32 a.m.— Rose to 28 feet. Observed cruiser between waves. Appeared to have stopped and listed to starboard. Dived 70 feet to pick up trim. And for the following thirty hours or so the submarine had to pay the penalty of her daring by bumping about on the bed of the sea while enemy destroyers buzzed angrily about overhead looking for her. To a soldier and a landsman the real wonder of a submarine's achievement lies in this, that the commander and his little ship's company must always be playing a lone hand, working in the deadly monotony of isolation far from their comrades. It is easy enough to fight a field battery in the open, or to go " over the top in a bunch with your men behind and around you. Even in a destroyer you '■•rally have a sister ship within hail. But to remain for perhaps a month or more on (inl shut up in " the heart of an eight-day clock," seeing nothing of the world save an occasional bird's-eye view of ;>■ waste of waters glimpsed through Mi- I e of -i periscope; lying submerged for maybe fort) I hours a! a stretch in peril every minute of a sudden and horrible death dealt by an unknown, hand ; living on tinned air and tinned food; crowded together with barely the room to stand uprighl one marvels indeed thai any man anion; I them has an atom of nerve left when if comes to i he acl ual fight ins. I niil ! had made my first trip in a submarine I had no conception how wonderful their achieve- ments reall) were. A a matter of fact, I had never 148 THE SEAFARERS seriously thought about it. Most people derive their ideas (as I did) of life and work in a submarine from Verne's romance, " Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea." One pictures the ship sinking gracefully through the water until she comes peacefully to rest on the bottom. You imagine yourself sitting at a plate-glass window gazing at the marvels of ocean life illumined by powerful searchlights, forests of coral and sea plants, great fish swimming through the branches. Or you open a little door in the ship's side, and, equipped with breathing apparatus and some curious kind of rifle, step out upon the ocean's bed and sally forth upon a shooting expedition. Some day, doubtless, men will experience such delights, but not just yet. For do people understand that once a submarine has submerged, periscope too, she is absolutely blind ? There is not even a port-hole from which you may watch the fish swim- ming by. And if there were it would be too dark to see them. If you grasp that fact you may begin to realise how astonishing was the feat of the submarine which dived underneath five rows of mines in the Darda- nelles — to take one incident out of hundreds. How it was done I do not pretend to guess, any more than I shall ever be able to understand how you may stand in Piccadilly Circus and talk to a friend on Broadway, New York City, by a telephone with- out wires. One is sorely tempted to write more fully of these remarkable ships and of their crews. To tell of the great " K " boats, some 340 feet long, carrying funnels, and built for service with the linc-of-ualllc COMBAT 149 ships. Of the submersible monitors with guns sueh as only the biggest ships had carried. But one must hasten on. Even in the Navy the submarines, their types and their exploits, have been veiled in a mist of secrecy. The veil is now being raised, and the stories are being told. But the figures of our losses in submarines tell only too sadly how these ships and their companies have paid the price of Admiralty. Let me set them down : Lost by enemy action ... 39 Interned ..... 3 Blown up by their crews in Russian harbours when crews were with- drawn ..... 7 Accidents (on trial, etc.) . . 4 Wrecked ..... 1 Lost by collision .... 5 Total . 59 It is a heavy total, and 39 lost by enemy action shows very clearly the hazardous work upon which they have been engaged. Against that figure and for comparison we may set the number 203. And that is the number of German submarines with which the Mariners of England have well and truly deal! during the four years odd of war. 203 killed, sunk or captured; l.'5."> more actually surrendered under the terms of the Armistice; 50 more at the time of writing are still l<> be brought in. But once again 1 would emphasise this. British 150 THE SEAFARERS submarines have had perforce to do their work mainly within enemy waters, righting under the terms laid down by the enemy. German sub- marines have carried their pirate flag across the sea highways of the world. Of enemy methods and of the hunting of the enemy I will say a little under my final heading, " Communications." Now if there is one kind of yarn more than another that your healthy Briton enjoys it is a story of a good sporting fight against odds. Not a big fleet action — Mr. John Citizen cannot grasp that — nor a big land battle. Trafalgar and Waterloo were very satisfactory, and all that kind of thing, but the scale of fighting is " a bit beyond me." But when it comes to, say, the Defence of Rorke's Drift ; or the Guards at Landrecies ; or Sir Edward Pellew with his forty-four-gun frigate tackling the French Droiis-de-V Hoimne with her seventy-four guns; or the Chesapeake and the Shannon, or " L ' Battery at Nery — why then, " just wait till this pipe draws properly " and he (and Mrs. John Citizen, too) will listen mouse-quiet for a couple of hours. Our sea story for a thousand years is crowded with such episodes. Indeed it is curious how often the mariners of England have had to fight against odds, in big battles and in small. Everyone knows how insignificant seemed the English Fleet, in numbers and size of ships, in the campaign of the Spanish Armada. Hubert de Burgh, in one of the first of our sea battles,* fought a French fleet of * See ante, page 61. COMBAT 151 over ninety ships with but forty English. And in the last great sea-fight of sailing ships, Trafalgar, Nelson had twenty-seven sail of the line to Ville- neuve's thirty-three. Of clean fighting, ship against ship, during the Great War, there have been very few instances. Of amazing fights in self-defence by merchantmen against would-be murderers, and of the hunt and the kill of those same — there have been hundreds. But, for the moment, we are considering " the straight game." The last fight of the Emden, for instance, when the German ship met her fate in a ship of the despised Australian Navy, H.M.A.S. Sydney. But it was an unequal duel, for the German had no chance against her far more powerful antagonist. Hence the British public, only too eager to find any gallantry and sportsmanship in the enemy, openly sympathised with his defeat and warmly approved the humane and courteous treatment meted out to Captain von Miiller and his men.* Another fight against hopeless odds was the gallant defence put up by the Clan Mactavish, a chantman, against the German commerce-raider the Moewe. The German ship carried seven guns and a couple of torpedo tubes against one little gun carried by the ISiitish ship. This happened in January, L916, and one is happy to record that the behaviour of the German officers was scrupulously correel . * Thiii any public commenl should have been made upon this, the usual British habil ol courtesj to a vanquished enemy, in- dicates how rare were the occasions in the War for the display of these little amenities of honourable combat. 152 THE SEAFARERS It was late in the afternoon when the Clan Mactavish, proceeding under easy steam, sighted two strange ships in company. After a brief inter- change of signals one of the strangers, closing rapidly at the time, signalled the curt order : ' Stop immediately. We are a German cruiser. Don't use wireless." The skipper of the Clan Mactavish, with the traditional instinct of the fighting seafarer, acted very promptly. He rang down for full speed, called to the wireless operator to send out the S.O.S. and to the gunner to stand by. The Moewe as promptly opened fire, and the range was about 500 yards. The fight was over almost as soon as it had begun. The first shell from the German burst inside the steward's cabin and wrecked it ; the second on the foredeck ; others within the water-line and the engine-room put the Clan Mactavish out of all control and stopped her. The Clan Mactavish was only able to get in five rounds to the eleven of the Moewe before the end came. The German sent an armed party aboard, the British master and crew were transferred to the raider, and the Clan Mactavish was sunk. What was in the mind of the British skipper when he decided to fight we do not know. Doubtless he thought no more about it than did Commander Fox of the Mary Rose. It was just the old " back to the wall " spirit, and so was one more page added to the golden book of the Merchant Seamen. The Royal Navy, ever quick in their appreciation of their sea-comrades, telegraphed a message of sympathy through Admiral Jellicoe : COMBAT 153 ' The magnificent fight shown by the Clan Mactavish fills us in the Grand Fleet with admira- tion. We sympathise deeply with those who have lost relatives as a result of the action." But the duel between the Car mania and the Cap Trafalgar was another kind of story. Here the two ships were evenly matched, with a slight ad- vantage to the German in guns. The Carmania opened the ball by firing a shot across the German's bows by way of a summons to surrender. The Cap Trafalgar replied with a broadside. Then the two went at it hammer and tongs. Just as the fight began the first officer of the Carmania went to the master to put forward a request from the crew. " What is it ? " said the skipper. ' The men's respectful compliments, sir," said the officer, "and they've got the cutlasses nice and handy if you'll be so good as to lay us along- side" * Give the men my compliments," said the skipper, ' but I'm sorry I cannot oblige them this time. Tell them to keep the guns going, and I'll do the rest." Ami the skipper was ;is good as his word. By splendid seamanship Ik- kept the Carmania alter- nately bows ;iik1 stern dm to the enemy, so as to offer ill-- smallest possible targel to the German guns, the while his join crews poured in a steads' stream of shell. In twenty minutes that fighl was over. Within half an hour the (dj) Trafalgar had gone down in 154 THE SEAFARERS a riot of flame and the Carmanias boats were out picking up the survivors. But I guess the Carmanias skipper was a proud man when he learned what his crew wanted of him. And what a story there would have been to tell had he granted their request ! But for a piece of splendid pluck and clean fight- ing against big odds give me every time the story of the Gowan Lea and Joseph Watt, the skipper of her. It is not a submarine yarn, and so it shall come here. The Gowan Lea was just a little trawler ship, sort of penny steamer kind that you see on the Thames. She carried the usual crew of six men and a boy, and a little gun up in the bows — a little pop- gun that shoots peas. Now the Gowan Lea was down in the Adriatic helping to clear up some of the mess that the Huns had left behind in the shape of mines. And one fine morning up over the horizon there came an Austrian light cruiser. And she steamed in and called to the Gowan Lea to surrender. But Joseph Watt on the tiny bridge, he called up on deck his little crew — his crew of six men and a boy — and he hauled the Jack up to the mast, and he called for three cheers for the King, and he sent one of the hands up forrard to the little gun in the bows — the little popgun that shoots peas — and he opened fire on the enemy. The Austrian opened fire ; the shells went back- ward and forward ; the deck-hand up forrard had one of his legs shattered by a shell — but they fought on. COMBAT 155 And the Austrian cruiser, whether she thought that the Gowan Lea was a submarine in disguise or a ' mystery ' ship I don't know, but she turned tail ami fled. And Joseph Watt had the joy of bringing his ship out of action as victor with his colours flying ; and he got the Victoria Cross for it, and richly he deserved it. Joseph Watt was the man who used to bring you your kippers for breakfast before the War. Kippers. That's his job. " Fed up " though he was with the mine-sweeping business, anxious to get back to his haddocks, yet he " carried on," like the rest. And we may go down on our knees and thank God for it. Now, to round off this " rude, brief recitative," it must be told how watch and ward was kept in the North Sea by the " Mock Turtle " Squadron of battleships. Did I say that there had been no Fleet action save "Jutland Bank"? Oh, but I forgot. We must really count in the " Mock Turtles." A mighty squadron they were, to all outward appearance. Great gaunt battleships with their inch guns peering through armoured turrets. Anti-aircrafi guns, quick-firers, towering bridges high up. Majestically they rode at anchor. Majes- tically they ploughed through the seas, line ahead or line abreast, close ordered, rank on rank. Emblems of ih'- glory and mighl of our Sea-Empire, so they watched and waited before the enemy coasts. See the conscious pride with which the great flagship leads the van. Mark the discipline of her hip's company a1 the call of " action stations." A 156 THE SEAFARERS trifle heavy of gait, some of the men ; somewhat broad of bulk, not moving quite so briskly as, per- haps, they used to do. Inclined to puff and blow a bit when they have to do a little running about. Still, what of that ; be sure that the guns will be served none the less readily. Guns ! — well, now I'll tell you a little secret. Quite in confidence, of course. Sure no one is listen- ing ? Well, the only guns on the flagship are two little rifles which a couple of sportsmen brought aboard to shoot sea birds with. Fact, I assure you. But those two 13-inch forrard ! Well, to tell you the honest truth they came out of a saw- mill only last week. They're just painted wood. In short, the whole squadron is one glorious fake. A lot of old unseaworthy merchant tramps saved from the scrap-heap. All except the flagship. And the flagship, biggest joke of all, is or rather was a well-known German liner. So those old wooden dummies sailed the seas. Up and down before Heligoland they steamed, fairly putting the fear of God into the Huns. How the German Secret Service must have cursed some of their agents for misleading them over the strength of the British battle-fleet. And the Fleet action ? It was the Dogger Bank affair in January, '15. The " Mock Turtles " were away up in the north and the enemy scouts reported the fact. The coast seemed clear and out came the Germans for a game of " tip and run." Un- luckily, though, for them Sir David Beatty and his " Cat ' squadron were watching the mouse-hole COMBAT 157 (it was not a pre-arranged affair as far as I am aware) and the " Cat ,: ' squadron pounced, with the result which all the world knows. So the " Mock Turtles ' may fairly claim some credit for their share in the action. In fact My Lords admitted as much. It was odd, though, that the " Mock Turtles " managed for so long to evade the unwelcome atten- tions of enemy submarines. There were a few alarms but nothing happened. It would have been very galling, one imagines, to have been attacked with no reply possible save a few rounds from the rook- rifles. But probably the ships' companies would have been rolling about on the deck doubled up with laughter all the while. Admiral Jellicoc went along one day to inspect the squadron. Boarding the flagship he glanced round. His practised eye noted a small skiff slung somewhere amidships. 'What ship do you represent?' the Admiral asked the skipper. The Ajax, sir,*' replied the skipper. "Then thai boat does not belong there," re- marked the Admiral. The meresl trifle, perhaps, but it suggests once mi how the Royal Navy attends to detail. Two of the 'Mock Turtles' did good service in the Mediterranean, and there one of them met her end. She was torpedoed by a submarine as she corted ' some merchanl tramps. And even when the submarine commander saw the great L8-inch guns floating about on the water he didn't that he had wasted 11,000 worth of torpedo 158 THE SEAFARERS on a dummy. The commander was taken prisoner shortly afterwards, and the Navy tells with glee how they found him gibbering with unholy laughter, vowing that never again would he touch Scotch whisky. But that is probably just a little of the " Navy touch," added for the benefit of the poor, unso- phisticated landsman. CONVOY " If anyone wishes to know the history of this war I will tell them it is our maritime superiority gives me the power of maintaining my army while the enemy are unable to do so." — Wellington (in Spain, 1813). Of all the many phases of the work of the Navy in the Great War there is nothing in which public indifference has been more marked than in the matter of transport and convoy of our troops. It is certainly curious that it should be so for there can be few households in the Kingdom which have not sent a son or brother into the Army. Yet this, the most astonishing feat which has ever been per- formed by a Naval Power, has been taken for granted as a piece of ordinary, simple routine work. The Navy, if it ever gives a thought to that display of indifference, doubtless takes it as a com- plimenl and goes calmly on its way. JSut, for my own part, I cannot but feel that it has passed beyond the limits of a joke In common justice to our sca- farers, if for i ther reason, it is the duty of the Authority I of the Press to sec to it thai our pie are fully informed upon this point at least. I fully admil the difficulties for I am faced with them here. Figures and statistics are tiresome, stubborn things, and very dull reading. Besides no one can possibly grasp lh<' meaning of the enor- mous figures with which the country has deal! during 159 160 THE SEAFARERS the War. It is no manner of use telling Mr. John Citizen that we have been spending seven million pounds sterling per day. He will merely blink in vague wonder and inquire when haddocks are going to be cheaper ; " Is. 6d. each is an awful price." Well, let us try to gather up a few facts in this matter of " Convoy." And under this heading I am concerned solely with the maritime transport of our troops (and of some of our Allies) and the maintenance of our Armies in the field. At the outset, in August, '14, we were concerned only with a single sphere of operations — Belgium and France. To this, West Africa was added almost at once. Then one by one were added the others until, in 1918, we were actually at work in no fewer than seven theatres of war : France, Palestine, Italy, Salonika, N. Russia, Africa, Mesopotamia. Each of those theatres was provided with a stock company which had to be kept fully equipped in personnel and equipment to carry on the " con- tinuous performance." No forty-seven hour week for them, and ten minutes allowed off before lunch for washing your hands. Some figures I must give ; it is inevitable. You will not grasp them any more than I do, but they must go down. Here then is the number of men of ours transported by sea between August, '14, and November 30, 1918 : — 23,705,814 CONVOY 161 A number representing rather more than half the total population of the United Kingdom in 1914 ; and more than double that of the population of England and Wales at the close of the Napoleonic Wars. Of those twenty-three million odd we have lost upon the high seas no more than 5,000. Of the 5,000 some 3,000 were lost by enemy action, in- cluding 550 in hospital ships, and the remainder by the ordinary perils of the sea. Thai is th<' number of personnel, effective and non-effective, carried by military sea transport under the sure shield of the British Navy and by the Mariners of England. That seems to mc worth talking about if only one can get the meaning of these figures home. And yet that figure of the personnel represents but a fraction of the total transport. Nor has this transport anything whatever to do with the convoy of our merchant ships. Take just one more number, thai of the horse transport. The British Navy has transported by sea 2,^40,495 horses and mules between the same dates. And have you ever seen them embarking and disembarking just fifty horses in one ship ? Let alone mules. (I wish I could turn on a kinema film of :i mule being taken on hoard. Thai would bring home the job of tackling a few thousand of Hi.- beasts.) \mu here is a little point for comparison. The •<)|d ContemptibL lined up at Mons, and opened the War for Britain, just about 78,000 strong. In i. 162 THE SEAFARERS March, 1918, when, you will remember, the Ger- mans made their last big effort to win the Channel ports, and when everyone at home was gripping the arms of his chair at the news of our losses, the British Navy took its coat off, rolled up its sleeves and buckled to. Within ten days the Navy carried across to France close upon 250,000 men and their equipment, zvithout the loss of a single man, horse, or gun. As a feat of organisation and transport alone it is staggering enough. But when you add in all the defence measures necessary against a cunning and unscrupulous enemy, and the wholly success- ful foiling of submarine attacks — I know no word to describe it. The Admiralty, in their official report, called it " stupendous," so we will leave it at that. And here one or two points about methods of submarine attack will not be out of place, for they may serve to show some of the difficulties involved. I will take the case of the transport full of American troops which was torpedoed off the south of Ireland in the spring of 1918. The ship was under the escort of destroyers, a light cruiser and aircraft ; every possible precaution was taken. At about 4.30 in the afternoon the captain received the warning that enemy submarines were about. You may imagine that if everyone was on the look-out before that the closest watch was kept after the message came through. Nothing happened. Suddenly, about 7.0, without another word of warning, there was a crashing explosion CONVOY 163 from a torpedo, and the transport began to go down. No one saw either submarine or torpedo. An ordinary submarine can submerge com- pletely within thirty or forty seconds, at the worst within two minutes. She can remain submerged without ever coming to the surface for forty-eight hours ; and she can steam 100 miles under water without coming up. Her speed on the surface averages 14-18 knots; submerged, 8-10 knots. Apart from any guns she may have on board a submarine will carry perhaps 20 torpedoes. Now a torpedo has a range of about five miles, and a speed of anything up to 40 knots. (Some of our most valuable cargoes are carried in ships which only make about 7 knots.) And — this is the par- ticular point to bear in mind — a submarine need not come to the surface to fire her torpedoes. Now imagine that you arc standing within a submarine by the side of the commander, the eye- piece of the periscope before him. Above the water there projects a few inches of the periscope, which is about as big round as a smallish flower-pot. If it is visible at all from a ship it can look no larger than a match in the waste of waters. Through the periscope the commander sights a ship. lie takes a bearing ; submerges the periscope. In. say, ten minutes up goes the periscope and another bearing on the ship is taken. (We are imagining a perfectly simple ease where the ship keeps t<» a direct course.) Down comes the peri- pe. In. say, fifteen minutes the commander will remark, - " H'm ! 1 think we'll do thai ship in now ! " i6 4 THE SEAFARERS He gives his order. Off goes the torpedo. Up goes the ship. Now, if those few facts be borne in mind the wonder will be, not that so many of our mer- chant ships have been sunk but that any have ever escaped. And apropos of the American transport the British Navy has this, too, to its credit : 2,080,000 (two million and eighty thousand) American soldiers came to France. The men, their baggage, their guns, horses, food, and all the impedimenta of so mighty a modern army. All those men and their gear had to be trans- ported across 3,000 miles of Atlantic Ocean. Seas in which enemy submarines were " all out " to sink every transport possible ; for it was Germany's last chance. She had to stop those transports, or, colossal egoist though she is, she knew her end was certain. The Americans came. Of their two million odd considerably over one million were carried across in British ships. And British warships furnished 15 per cent of the total escort. Of those 2,080,000 American soldiers only 747 were lost on the high seas. And, be it noted, the British Navy had sundry other jobs in hand at the same time. To my great regret I saw only too little of the American ships and sailormen in our Home waters, so I cannot say much from first-hand. But Admiral Bcatty has many times voiced the professional opinion of the Grand Fleet, and that opinion was CONVOY 165 a high one. Certain it is, though, that Great Britain owes a very real, a very great debt of gratitude to Admiral Sims and Admiral Rodman of the United States Navy. The task of co-operation between the two Navies was a most difficult one. American Navy ways are not Royal Navy ways. The British sailorman is jealous (and rightly so) of the great tradition of his calling. For he has acquired it through the storm and stress of a thousand years. But it was a great and a notable example that Admiral Sims and Admiral Rodman set ; and their countrymen, being sailors, saw that it was good, put aside their differences, and started in to learn our ways. And only the officers and men of the Royal Navy can appreciate how hard the task was. Other pens than mine will, I hope, pay the tribute that is the due of those two gallant officers and most courteous gentlemen. Well, yes, I must admit there was a certain amount of professional jealousy knocking about between the American sailorman and his British comrade They are quaint chaps, those American sailors. 1 have seen a good deal of them on the Pacific coasl in pre-war days, and even then — well, they maintained a very strong opinion about the might of " God's own country." I »ut one of them met his Waterloo on a day at Le Havre. And it was thuswisc. Say, Jack," said the American sailorman to a British bluejacket as they forgathered over a friendly glass, " is thai the British Fleet out there ? " And he pointed out of the window across the 166 THE SEAFARERS harbour where a few T.B.D.s, submarines and a light cruiser or two rode at anchor. " Lord, no ! ' snorted the bluejacket. " A few light craft, patrol ships and things." " Well," said the American, " I guess we've got any little old steam-tug our side would tow the whole of the British Fleet into Noo York harbour." And he smiled with relish. " H'm ! " said Jack. " Maybe. Very likely. But " — very slowly — " it 'ud take a damned sight cleverer man than Christopher Columbus to discover America afterwards." So now back to England once again. In all this land of ours there is no spot ' ' that is for ever England " more hallowed by memories of home than is Dover. To the wanderer those fair white cliffs give England's last farewell as he sets forth upon his journey, her radiant welcoming as he returns. From our earliest history the Dover Straits and the Narrow Seas have been the cockpit of England's sea warfare. They have witnessed our victories, our defeats, and our humiliation. To tell the story of Dover and the Kentish and Sussex shore is almost to tell the story of England. Now once again has the Moving Finger written. Nor may we, if we would, blot out a single word of the writing ; for the tears of pride and of sorrow that we let fall for the gallant dead sleeping beneath those seas they will but illumine in flaming gold the dear names of those our loved ones. For the story of the Dover Patrol tells how once VICE-ADMIRAL SIR ROGER KEYES CONVOY 167 again the mariners of England kept the Narrow Seas secure against an enemy. Tells, too, how our honourable and chivalrous foes of yesterday have been our comrades in arms to-day. How the fisher- folk of splendid Breton stock have fought side by side with their brothers of our southern and eastern shores ; shared with them the toil and the danger, reaped with them the harvest of fame and honour. Gentlemen of the Royal Navy, I pray you stand aside for the moment ! Yours, I grant you, has been the direction of the operations. Yours the gallant Commanders — Rear- Admiral Sir Horace Hood, Vice-Admiral Sir Reginald Bacon, Vice-Admiral Sir Roger Keyes. Yours the submarines, the destroyers, but — what of the rest ? I know you for the good sportsmen you are ; you will not grudge the poor tribute one may pay to, shall I say, the rank and file? For it was the deep-sea fishermen and the lands- men of the sea-breed, the third and fourth estates of the British Navy, who kept the Narrow Seas tluough the years of the Great War. The fisher- men in their drifters and trawlers, 256 little vessels all told ; the landsmen in their tiny motor-launches, 25 of them. Naval Reserve men, too, as I have already told,* on the monitors and other ships. All of them serving, " with a zeal and enthusiasm which could not have been surpassed," f day and night without ceasing for four and a half years, all weathers, winter and summer, snow, sleet, fog, and sunshine. * Ante, page