“When a submarine is submerged, her captain alone is able to see what is taking place. The success of the enterprise and the safety of the vessel depend on his skill and nerve and the prompt, precise execution of his orders by the officers and men under his command. Our submarines have been pioneers in waters that have been mined. They have been subjected to skilful and well-thought-out anti-submarine tactics by a highly trained and determined enemy, attacked by gunfire and torpedo, driven to lie at the bottom at a great depth to preserve battery power, hunted for hours at a time by hostile torpedo craft, and at times forced to dive under our own warships to avoid interfering with their movements. Sudden alterations of course and depth, the swirl of propellers overhead and the concussion of bursting shells, give an indication to the crew of the risks to which they are being exposed, and it speaks well for the moral of these young officers and men, and their gallant faith in their captains, that they have invariably carried out their duties quietly, keenly, and confidently under conditions that might well have tried the hardened veteran.”
On the 6th of the succeeding month E 9 was ‘at it again.’ She was patrolling off the estuary of the Ems, near the much-advertised island of Borkum, which boasted some of the most powerful guns ever mounted for coast defence. Presently the enemy’s torpedo-boat S 126 came along, entirely unsuspecting.[[26]]
Horton was really after bigger game, but when out shooting pheasants one does not disdain a pigeon if nothing else is available. He was keen on a battleship, and only a little while before had spotted a fair-sized cruiser, an excellent ‘second best.’ When enthusiasm was at its height, and triumph reasonably sure, circumstances compelled him to dive. We are not told what those circumstances were. Perhaps we should not be far wrong if we ventured the opinion that they were intimately connected with the noisome presence of fleeter craft whose pet particular prey is the British submarine. When the officer had another opportunity to observe what was going on in the upper world, the larger ship had gone out of sight and a smaller vessel come into view.
Within a hundred yards of E 9 was S 126, followed at some distance by a second T.B. Horton waited until the leader had travelled another 500 yards, ensuring a ‘comfortable’ range, and then fired. The commander evidently believed in even numbers, for he discharged two ‘rooties’ at his quarry, as he had done when attacking the Hela. It was just as well that he did, for one missed. The other struck the enemy amidships and worked deadly havoc. Coastguards on the Dutch island of Schiermonnikoog, opposite Borkum, and some seven miles from the scene, heard the roar of the explosion, and saw a great column of water shoot up near the forepart of the ship. In three minutes all that remained of S 126 was flotsam. She went down bow foremost, like a leaping salmon. As the stern rose her men took to the water. Most of them appear to have been rescued by a cruiser which came up a little later, but did not consider it advisable to make a long stay. “Look at her!” Horton cried. “The beggar’s going down!” as though it was the most surprising thing in the world for a ship to sink after having a 21–in. torpedo plugged in her side.
The second torpedo-boat, unwilling to run the risk of sharing her consort’s fate, made off, leaving the shipwrecked crew of thirty-six to fend for themselves. The lost vessel, launched in 1905, had a displacement of 420 tons, and carried three 6–pdr. guns and three torpedo-tubes.
The Second Exploit of E 9
When Lieutenant-Commander Max K. Horton torpedoed S 126 in the mouth of the Ems
E. S. Hodgson
When E 9 swung into Harwich safe and sound the crews of destroyers and other craft based there knew that Horton and his gallant little band had scored another hit. No wireless conveyed the intelligence. She was displaying the White Ensign, plus two unofficial flags that are the pride and glory of the Submarine Squadron. These little bits of bunting, one yellow and the other white, bore the death’s-head and cross-bones so intimately associated with the pirate of yester-year, and more appropriate to the Huns. The former represented the ‘tuft’ of the Hela, the latter that of the latest victim. The officers and crew received further prize money to the tune of £350 for ‘digging out’ S 126. Horton was awarded the D.S.O., and noted for early promotion. On the last day of 1914 he became Commander.
The news was spread abroad by Germany that the action had taken place in Dutch territorial waters, within a mile of the shore. The Dutch Naval Staff promptly contradicted this report, pointing out that sands extend for two and a half miles from Schiermonnikoog, off which it was alleged E 9 had committed this grave misdeed.
Horton’s succeeding coup took place in the Baltic, and rightly belongs to a later chapter. I introduce it here because it will better help us to appreciate his worth.