At 10.25 the big ships were making 23 knots, and gradually drew ahead of their consorts. The Invincible led, the Inflexible followed at some little distance on her starboard quarter. The Glasgow—all on board burning with eagerness to avenge their late squadron-mates—was ordered to keep at 2 miles distance from the flagship. It was a fine, clear, bright day, comparatively warm for those latitudes, and it was easy to keep the enemy in sight.
Shortly before one o'clock the two battle-cruisers opened fire with their big guns, presently concentrating on the light cruiser Leipzig. She was not hit, but the big shots crept closer and closer, till after about a quarter of an hour she turned away to the south-west, followed by the Dresden and Nürnberg. At the same time the remaining German ships, the two big armoured cruisers, turned slightly to port and began to return the fire of our battle-cruisers. Thenceforward the fighting resolved itself into two battles, one between the big ships, the other between the smaller cruisers.
As soon as the German light cruisers turned off to their starboard hand the Kent, Glasgow, and Cornwall started after them in accordance with the orders they had received from Admiral Sturdee. The Bristol had previously signalled that three more Germans, looking like colliers or transports, had appeared off the Falklands, and, having received orders to take the armed auxiliary cruiser Macedonia with her and destroy them, had proceeded to chase them to the westward. The strangers turned out to be two and not three ships, the Baden and St. Isabel. Both were captured and sunk after the removal of their crews.
Meanwhile the Invincible and Inflexible were pressing closer and closer on the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. "Suddenly we altered course", wrote a midshipman on board the Invincible to his father,[96] "and made for the enemy. I had not noticed we were closing, and when their first salvo went off I was still on the top of the turret. I could see all the shells coming at us, and I felt they were all coming straight at me. However, they all missed except one, which hit the side of the ship near the ward-room, and made a great green flash, and sent splinters flying all round. I hopped below armour quickly and started working again. We were nearing the Scharnhorst and began firing for all we were worth. We hit again and again. First our left gun sent her big crane spinning over the side. Then our right gun blew her funnel to atoms, and then another shot from the left gun sent her bridge and part of the forecastle sky-high.
"We were not escaping free, however. Shots were hitting us repeatedly, and the spray from the splashes of their shells was hiding the Scharnhorst from us. Suddenly a great livid flame rushed through the gun-ports, and splinters flew all round, and we felt the whole 150 or 200 tons of the turret going up in the air. We thought we were going over the side and would get drowned like rats in a trap. However, we came down again with a crash that shook the turret dreadfully, and continued firing as hard as ever. Nothing in the turret was out of order at all. The range continued to come down, and the whistles of the shells that flew over us grew into a regular shriek. Down came the range, 11,000, 10,000, 9000, 8800 yards. We were hitting the Scharnhorst nearly every time. One beauty from our right gun got one of their turrets fair and square and sent it whizzing over the side." By 3.30 the Scharnhorst was in a bad way. She was on fire, smoke and steam poured out of her in many places, and when a shell would knock a big hole in her side a dull furnace-like glow was seen within. Several of her guns were out of action and she now turned partially to starboard, apparently with the idea of getting her starboard guns to bear.
Just after four o'clock she was observed to give a heavy roll to port. She slowly listed farther and farther over, till she lay on her beam-ends, and at 4.17 disappeared below the waves in a dense cloud of smoke and steam. The Gneisenau, passing on the far side of the mass of scattered debris marking the grave of her consort, still spat out defiance from her guns. But her hours were numbered, and everyone on board must have known that it was only a matter of minutes before her two huge opponents settled accounts with her. She put up a first-rate fight for nearly two hours longer. She ranged her guns well and hit her adversaries again and again. But each of them was much more than her match, and their great 850-pound projectiles got her time after time.
"5.10. Hit, hit!" wrote one of the Gneisenau's officers in a pocket diary.[97] "5.12. Hit! 5.14. Hit, hit, hit! again! 5.20. After-turret gone. 5.40. Hit, hit! On fire everywhere. 5.41. Hit, hit! burning everywhere and sinking. 5.45. Hit! men dying everywhere. 5.46. Hit, hit!" The ship must have been an inferno. At last she could only fire a single gun at intervals, and at 5.40 the Invincible, Inflexible, and Carnarvon closed in on the stricken leviathan and the "cease fire" was sounded. At six o'clock she turned slowly, slowly, over to port till only her rounded side was visible lying in the water like a great whale, with those of her crew who survived walking and crawling over it. Then, suddenly, down she went amid a swirl of waters, leaving those of her crew who were not sucked down with her struggling amid the waves. During the fighting the weather had changed for the worse, the sea had begun to rise, and now a cold drizzle was falling.
"Out boats," was the order on board the British ships, and no pains were spared to rescue their late enemies. Some of them had their heads quite turned and tried to kill their rescuers, or jumped into the sea again and drowned themselves. "One officer tried to shoot us with an automatic pistol, but it was wrenched from his hand and we escaped," wrote the midshipman before quoted. It is thought that before she sank 600 of the Gneisenau's ship's company had been killed or wounded. The British seamen, working indefatigably, were only able to save less than 200, fourteen of whom subsequently died from the effects of cold and exposure.
We must now return to the other running fight which had been proceeding between the smaller ships on both sides. The Germans had no notion of fighting if they could avoid it, and seem to have gone off "helter-skelter" without assuming any definite formation. The Glasgow was our fastest cruiser and was ordered to head off the Nürnberg and Leipzig. As for the Dresden, she seems to have got a very long start from the first and was never overtaken. The Glasgow opened fire on the Leipzig and Nürnberg with her 6-inch guns about three o'clock, and succeeded in making them alter course. The former turned to meet the Glasgow, while the latter was obliged to turn in a direction which rendered it easier for the Kent to come up with her. The Kent, an older and slower ship than the Nürnberg, made a record spurt and succeeded in getting within range of the German. She had but little coal on board. "The old Kent set off and her engines worked up to 22 knots—more than she had ever done on her trials. Then the word was passed that there was hardly any coal left. 'Well,' said the captain, 'have a go at the boats.' So they broke up all the boats, smeared them with oil, and put them in the furnaces. Then in went all the armchairs from the ward-room and the chests from the officers' cabins. They next burnt the ladders and all. Every bit of wood was sent to the stokehold. The result was that the Kent's speed became 24 knots."[98] But it was five o'clock before she could get within range and both ships went at it hammer and tongs for an hour, by which time the Nürnberg was evidently on fire. The sea was by now rather choppy and the atmosphere somewhat misty. Just after half-past six the Nürnberg, well alight forward, ceased firing. The Kent thereupon ceased fire also and closed in to 3300 yards; but, as the German still kept her colours flying, she once more set her guns to work. Five minutes of this and down fluttered the German ensign, and the Kent set herself to save as many of her late opponents as she could; but she was, of course, handicapped by having burnt her boats, and only twelve could be rescued with the assistance of the Cornwall. It was nearly half-past seven before the Nürnberg took her final plunge.
The Kent was hit a considerable number of times and lost four killed and a dozen wounded, nearly all by one shell. She had, moreover, a very narrow escape from destruction, from which she was only saved by the heroism of Sergeant Charles Mayes of the Royal Marines. In the words of the notification awarding him the Conspicuous Gallantry Medal: "A shell burst and ignited some cordite charges in the casemate. Sergeant Mayes picked up a charge of cordite and threw it away. He then got hold of a fire-hose and flooded the compartment, extinguishing the fire in some empty shell-bags which were burning. The extinction of this fire saved a disaster which might have led to the loss of the ship."