On Wednesday, the 1st December, 1915, at 8.15 a.m., the s.s. Clan Macleod was shelled by a submarine while endeavouring to escape. Soon after the ship was first hit the master stopped her, hoisted the international code signal indicating that she surrendered, and blew two blasts on his whistle. The submarine, however, again opened fire at a range of about a quarter of a mile, first blowing the bridge and captain’s accommodation to bits, and then destroying the two starboard boats. This fire killed eight of the crew. All hands were now ordered into the port-side boats, the master taking charge of the life-boat, with 50 on board, while the first mate took the cutter with a crew of 20. After sinking the ship the submarine came alongside the boat, and some of the Germans bound up the wounds of the master and an apprentice. The position was 100 miles from land. The life-boat was adrift until 5.30 p.m. on Thursday, the 2nd December, when she was picked up by a steamer. The mate’s boat was adrift until 2 a.m. on Saturday, the 4th December, when she was picked up by a French destroyer. In the meantime one of the wounded in this boat had died.
On the 2nd December, 1915, at 6.40 a.m., the s.s. Commodore was shelled by a submarine while endeavouring to escape. At 7 a.m. the vessel was stopped, one man having been killed and another severely wounded. While the crew were taking to the boats five more men were wounded by shell fire, two of them severely. The submarine then came alongside the boats and questioned the master. The Germans refused to supply any lint for the wounded men, and told the boats to clear off. The survivors were adrift for 28 hours before being picked up.
On the 9th December, 1915, at 4.20 p.m., the s.s. Orteric sighted a submarine and tried to escape. During the chase the fire of the submarine destroyed the starboard life-boat, killed two men, and badly wounded four others. The ship was then hit in the stern and would not steer, so the master signalled that he was stopping. The submarine, however, ignored his signal and continued firing. The crew got into three boats, in charge of the first and second officers and chief engineer, respectively. The master and two hands remained on board, having the gig ready. The three boats were about half a mile astern of the Orteric when the submarine fired four shots at the chief engineer’s boat. All four shots missed the boat, but only by a narrow margin. The survivors were picked up an hour and a half later.
At 1.35 p.m. on Christmas Day, 1915, the s.s. Van Stirum was fired on by two submarines and overhauled about an hour afterwards. At 2.32 p.m. the vessel was stopped, most of the crew embarking in two life-boats. The master, chief officer, chief engineer, and Marconi operator then got into a boat on the port side, leaving the boatswain and a seaman to lower away and follow them into the boat. One of the submarines was on the port quarter 200 yards away, and as these two men were coming down the falls, a torpedo was fired, which passed under the boat and struck the ship’s side. The explosion killed both men in the falls. The position was 20 miles from land, and the survivors were picked up an hour later by a trawler.
The sinking of these seven vessels was accompanied by unnecessary loss of life. In the case of the Glenby there was no reason for the Germans to open fire before the crew had abandoned ship. Three men were wounded and two lost, simply because the Germans would not allow them time to enter their boats. No excuse can be advanced for the Germans. Again, with regard to the Cymbeline, lives were lost because she was torpedoed while her crew were taking to their boats. To destroy a life-boat and kill six men was an act of wanton murder. The destruction of the Middleton provides a clearer example of German methods. When asked for bandages, the submarine held to her course and ignored the appeal. Three of the wounded men died, probably as a result of the Germans’ refusal to aid them.
Eight of the Clan Macleod’s crew were killed by German gun-fire after the ship had been hove to. This loss of life was, of course, unnecessary, and was deliberately caused by the Germans after the signal of surrender had been run up. It is true that the submarine crew bound up the wounds of the master and an apprentice; but why were the wounds ever inflicted? Very similar was the fate of the Commodore, which involved another cowardly attack upon men who were taking to their boats. On this occasion the Germans deliberately refused lint for the wounded, although the submarine came alongside the boats.
Even worse was the conduct of the submariners who attacked the Orteric. They waited until her boats were half a mile astern of the steamer, and then deliberately fired at the boat of the chief engineer. It is idle for anyone to pretend that these shots were intended for the ship; they were aimed at an open boat, and each one of the four shots very nearly hit her. Only bad shooting prevented the murder of this boat-load of defenceless seamen.
Finally, we have the sinking of the Van Stirum on Christmas Day, attended by the deliberate murder of two men. A torpedo was fired under one of the ship’s boats while two men were coming down the falls, and the explosion killed them both. In a few more minutes these men would have been safe, and those on board the submarine, which was only 200 yards away, must have known this perfectly well. They would not wait a couple of minutes, but preferred to murder the men in cold blood. Here, as in other cases, the utter uselessness of the deed must strike any unprejudiced mind. The U-boats’ mission is to sink this or that ship, but the U-boat commander appears to delight in adding murder to his daily programme.
The French Channel packet Sussex carried over 380 passengers, including about 270 women and children and 20 Americans, when, at 4.35 p.m. on the 24th March, 1916, she was torpedoed without warning. There were 50 casualties; but, although her bows were blown to pieces, the vessel was towed inside Boulogne breakwater and beached.
The Germans tried to evade the responsibility for this outrage by suggesting that the Sussex had been sunk by a British mine. They admitted sinking a ship at the time, and in the position where the Sussex was sunk, but declared that it was a war vessel which they had torpedoed. That the German contentions were false was eventually proved beyond doubt, as the following evidence will show.