But even more serious trouble was brewing, for our officers discovered that the American sailors were making elaborate plans to protect themselves. Had this discovery not been made in time, something like an international incident might have resulted. Much to our regret, therefore, it was found necessary to issue an order that no naval men, British or American, under the rank of Commander, should be permitted to go to Cork. Ultimately we had nearly 8,000 American men at this station; Queenstown itself is a small place of 6,000 or 7,000, so it is apparent that it did not possess the facilities for giving such a large number of men those relaxations which were necessary to their efficiency. We established a club in Queenstown, provided moving pictures and other entertainments, and did the best we could to keep our sailors contented. The citizens of Cork also keenly regretted our action. The great majority had formed a real fondness for our boys; and they regarded it as a great humiliation that the rowdy element had made it necessary to keep our men out of their city. Many letters were printed in the Cork newspapers apologizing to the Americans and calling upon the people to take action that would justify us in rescinding our order. The loss to Cork tradesmen was great; our men received not far from $200,000 to $300,000 a month in pay; they were free spenders, and their presence in the neighbourhood for nearly two years would have meant a fortune to many of the local merchants. Yet we were obliged to refuse to accede to the numerous requests that the American sailors be permitted to visit this city.
A committee of distinguished citizens of Cork, led by the Lord Mayor, came to Admiralty House to plead for the rescinding of this order. Admiral Bayly cross-examined them very sharply. It appeared that the men who had committed these offences against American sailors had never been punished.
Unless written guarantees were furnished that there would be no hostile demonstrations against British or Americans, Admiral Bayly refused to withdraw the ban, and I fully concurred in this decision. Unfortunately the committee could give no such guarantee. We knew very well that the first appearance of Americans in Cork would be the signal for a renewal of hostilities, and the temper of our sailors was such that the most deplorable consequences might have resulted. We even discovered that the blacksmiths on the U.S.S. Melville were surreptitiously manufacturing weapons which our men could conceal on their persons and with which they proposed to sally forth and do battle with the Sinn Fein! So for the whole period of our stay in Queenstown our sailors were compelled to keep away from the dangerous city. But the situation was not without its humorous aspects. Thus the pretty girls of Cork, finding that the Americans could not come to them, decided to come to the Americans; every afternoon a trainload would arrive at the Queenstown station, where our sailors would greet them, give them a splendid time, and then, in the evening, escort them to the station and send a happy crowd on their way home.
But the Sinn Feiners interfered with us in much more serious ways than this. They were doing everything in their power to help Germany. With their assistance German agents and German spies were landed in Ireland. At one time the situation became so dangerous that I had to take experienced officers whose services could ill be spared from our destroyers and assign them to our outlying air stations in Ireland. This, of course, proportionately weakened our fleet and did its part in prolonging the war.
CHAPTER III
THE ADOPTION OF THE CONVOY
I
All this time that we were seeking a solution for the submarine problem we really had that solution in our hands. The seas presented two impressive spectacles in those terrible months of April, May, and June, 1917. One was the comparative ease with which the German submarines were sinking merchant vessels; the other was their failure materially to weaken the Allied fleets. If we wish a counter-picture to that presented by the Irish Sea and the English Channel, where merchant shipping was constantly going down, we should look to the North Sea, where the British Grand Fleet, absolutely intact, was defiantly riding the waves. The uninformed public explained this apparent security in a way of its own; it believed that the British dreadnoughts were anchored behind booms, nets, and mine-fields, through which the submarines could not penetrate. Yet the fact of the matter was that the Grand Fleet was frequently cruising in the open sea, in the waters which were known to be the most infested with submarines. The German submarines had been attempting to destroy this fleet for two and a half years. It had been their plan to weaken this great battle force by "attrition"; to sink the great battleships one by one, and in this way to reduce the fighting power of the fleet to such a point that the German dreadnoughts could have some chances of success. Such had been the German programme, widely heralded at the beginning of the war; nearly three years had now passed, but how had this pretentious scheme succeeded? The fact was that the submarines had not destroyed a single dreadnought. It was certainly a profitable study in contrasts—that of merchant ships constantly being torpedoed and that of battleships constantly repelling such attacks. Certainly a careful study of this situation ought to bring out facts which would assist the Allies in solving the most baffling problem of the war.