One of the most successful of our submarine officers was Commander Max K. Horton. He was present during the Battle of Heligoland Bight, and you have already read (page 168, Vol. II.) how on September 13, 1915, he sank the light cruiser Hela, and was playfully dubbed by his comrades "The Double-toothed Pirate." The next day, at great risk, he examined the outer anchorage of Heligoland, and on 6th October sank a German destroyer off the mouth of the Ems. When or how he got into the Baltic Sea we do not know, but we do know that on July 2, 1915, he torpedoed the German battleship Pommern, and that shortly afterwards the Tsar recognized this important service by conferring on him the Order of St. George. At the same time the cross of the same order was awarded to the members of his crew. During the Battle of the Gulf of Riga, which I shall describe in a later chapter, Commander Noel Laurence torpedoed the German cruiser Moltke, which, you will remember, took part in the East Coast raids and in the Battle of the Dogger Bank. She was badly disabled, and was towed away, probably towards Kiel. The Tsar awarded Commander Laurence and his crew similar distinctions to those conferred upon Commander Max Horton and his comrades.
One of our submarines, E13, ran aground early in the morning of 19th August on the Danish island of Saltholm, which lies in the Sound between Copenhagen and the Swedish town of Malmö. At 5 a.m. a Danish torpedo boat saw her, and signalled to her that she would be allowed twenty-four hours in which to try to get off. At the same time a German destroyer arrived, and remained close to the submarine until two other Danish torpedo boats came up, when she withdrew. The submarine, you must remember, was in Danish waters, and if the Germans should attack her they would commit an act of war against Denmark, which, as you know, is neutral. Nevertheless, at 9 a.m., two German destroyers appeared, launched a torpedo at the submarine, and fired at her with all their guns. The British commander ordered his men to abandon the vessel; but while they were doing so machine guns were turned on them, and shrapnel was burst above them. Fourteen of the poor fellows were killed, and not a soul of the crew would have remained alive had not a Danish torpedo boat gallantly steamed in between the submarine and the German destroyer, and thus covered the stranded vessel. This cowardly and murderous act caused great indignation not only in Britain but in Denmark. Once more German sailors had covered themselves with infamy.
Russian submarines were also active in the Baltic. The following story tells us how a Russian submarine collided with a German warship which she had just torpedoed.
Having picked up the smoke of enemy vessels on the horizon, the submarine approached them, and by means of her periscope discovered that they consisted of ten ships of the line and several torpedo boats. To prevent the enemy from seeing his periscope, the commander of the submarine steered to the port side of the squadron, where he was between the ships and the light. With his periscope six inches above the water, he approached the squadron, and then dived. When he rose again he sighted on his starboard the ram of the leading warship, which was cutting across his course at a distance of not more than sixty yards.
Again he dived, and gave the order to fire a torpedo. The order was obeyed, and was immediately followed by a collision. A terrible crash was heard. The whole submarine trembled; the electric bulbs burst; crockery and all kinds of articles flew about; something above cracked, broke, and gave way. The submarine took a list to starboard, and the crew were unable to keep their feet. What had happened? The hull of the warship had struck the centre of the submarine. The men hung on to anything within reach, and fortunately kept their heads. "Full speed ahead" was the order, and soon the submarine regained her balance.
She was 75 feet below the surface when a loud explosion was heard. The torpedo had got home. The noise was so great that the commander thought the shell of his boat had been damaged by the collision, and that it was collapsing under the pressure of the water. He therefore rose to 60 feet, but the sound of the approaching screw of a large ship forced him to dive to 80 feet. Again and again he tried to rise, but every time he heard the screws of battleships and torpedo boats above him. He now discovered that his periscope was damaged, and that his boat was leaking and losing its buoyancy. Water had to be blown out of the tanks from time to time, and this revealed the presence of the submarine to the ships above. It was not until near midnight that she dared come to the surface. She rose carefully, and, thanks to the darkness, was not seen. Soon she was making her way to the shore, having been under water for four hours without a break.