The British Navy Book

by Cyril Field

On the 23rd November a patrol vessel rammed the German submarine U 18 off the north coast of Scotland. She was badly damaged and shortly afterwards foundered. Five days later the navy suffered a severe loss in the blowing up of the pre-Dreadnought battleship Bulwark as she lay at her buoy off Sheerness. The cause of this catastrophe was, of course, impossible to ascertain with any certainty, as the ship was sunk and destroyed with almost every soul on board.

Encouraged by what they seem to have considered the success of their vaunted "hussar stroke" at Yarmouth, the Germans thought they might as well have another. This time their raid resulted in the deaths of a large number of civilians, men, women, and children, at East and West Hartlepool, Whitby, and Scarborough, upon which undefended places they opened fire with their heavy artillery. Another "famous victory!" To make it look more like an operation of war, and to excuse themselves to neutrals, they tried to make out that these towns were fortified positions. It is not very likely that anyone believed them, since these places are well known to be nothing of the kind.

As a matter of fact, it was a carefully-planned affair. "Practically the whole fast-cruiser force of the German Navy, including some great ships vital to their fleet and utterly irreplaceable," wrote Mr. Winston Churchill to the Mayor of Scarborough, "has been risked for the passing pleasure of killing as many English people as possible, irrespective of sex, age, or condition, in the limited time available to this military and political folly. They were impelled by the violence of feelings which could find no other vent."

There is little doubt that the First Lord's diagnosis of the cause of the raid was absolutely correct, though it was perhaps more generally considered that it had the ulterior motive of "frightening" the British nation. So far from doing anything of the kind, it produced a perfect rush to enlist. Men wanted to take a personal hand in the payment due for such violence. The few British destroyers and patrolling vessels that were encountered opened fire on the big German leviathans, but were naturally in no position to put up anything of a fight against such overwhelming odds. That the Germans were unable to sink them goes to prove that they were in too great a hurry to fire carefully, as all they wanted to do was to escape, for, to quote the official announcement, "on being sighted by British vessels the Germans retired at full speed, and, favoured by the mist, succeeded in making good their escape". What a pity that mist intervened! But it merely postponed the evil day for the raiders after all.

Our men-of-war about this time set to work to give the German positions along the Belgian coast another shaking up, and the year finished by a brilliantly executed naval air raid on Cuxhaven and the German war-ships lying in the Elbe, in the process of which their escorting flotilla had a somewhat unique scrap with German submarines and Zeppelins, an account of which will be found in a later chapter.

The year 1915 opened badly for us with the loss of the Formidable—a sister-ship to the Bulwark—which was torpedoed, it is supposed, by a German submarine well down the Channel. At two o'clock in the morning there was a heavy explosion, and the ship began to settle down to starboard. There was no panic, the boats were got out, and some were already in the water when there was a second explosion and a mass of debris was shot into the air. The sea was rough, and the survivors, who numbered less than a hundred, endured severe hardships. Some were rescued by a Brixham trawler, and others managed to row ashore at Lyme Regis. "The discipline was splendid," said a bluejacket survivor.[100] "The last that I saw of Captain Loxley"—who was in command of the ship—"was that he was on the bridge calmly smoking a cigarette. Lieutenant Simmonds superintended the launching of the boats, and as he got the last away I heard the Captain say: 'You have done well, Simmonds'. The stokers must have done magnificently, as they drew all the fires, and, steam being shut off, there was no boiler explosion when the Formidable sank.

"Captain Loxley was as cool as a cucumber. He gave his orders calmly and coolly, just as though the ship was riding in harbour with anchors down. I thought nothing was amiss. The last words I heard him say were: 'Steady, men, it's all right. No panic, keep cool; be British. There's life in the old ship yet!' Captain Loxley's old terrier 'Bruce' was standing on duty at his side on the fore-bridge at the last."

One of the few stokers who were saved said that they were expecting to be relieved, and to have gone back to port, in about another hour. "An officer passed down by us. He stopped and explained in a matter-of-fact way that the ship had been struck, was sinking fast, and it was now a question of saving as many lives as possible. He advised us to go on deck and lay hold of anything we could." One of the finest examples of self-sacrifice was given by Bugler S. C. Reed of the Royal Marines, a mere boy, who, when advised to use his drum to keep himself afloat, replied that he had thought of it, but had given it to one of the bluejacket boys for that purpose, as the lad had nothing to keep himself afloat in the heavy seas then prevailing, and that he did not feel very nervous. Surely the cool courage in the face of death, superlative bravery, and absolute self-devotion that have been displayed during the last few months by officers and men—yes, and boys too—of navy and army alike, have equalled, if not eclipsed, the finest deeds of our forefathers "in the brave days of old".

At last, on 24th January, our eager navy had its chance of castigating the evasive enemy. The Battle-cruiser Squadron, consisting of the Lion, Princess Royal, Tiger, New Zealand, and Indomitable, under the command of Sir David Beatty, who flew his flag on the Lion, in company with Commodore Goodenough's Light Squadron, comprising the Southampton, Nottingham, Birmingham, and Lowestoft, was patrolling in the North Sea, preceded some way ahead by the Undaunted, Arethusa, and Aurora, with destroyer flotillas, when about half-past seven in the morning the flashing of guns was observed to the south-south-east. Presently came a message to the flagship from the Aurora that she was in action with the enemy.