In the night of September 3d, knowing that the enemy would have to leave only a rear guard on one bank of the Ourcq, General Gallieni and General Clergerie decided to march against that rear guard, to drive it back with all the weight of the Manoury army, to cut the enemy's communications, and take full advantage of his hazardous situation. Immediately the following order was addressed to General Manoury:
Because of the movement of the German armies, which seem to be slipping in before our front to the southeast, I intend to send your army to attack them in the flank, that is to say, in an easterly direction. I will indicate your line of march as soon as I learn that of the British army. But make your arrangements now so that your troops shall be ready to march this afternoon and to begin a general movement east of the intrenched camp tomorrow.
At ten in the morning a consultation was held by Generals Gallieni, Clergerie, and Manoury, and the details of the plan of operations were immediately decided. General Joffre gave permission to attack and announced that he would himself take the offensive on the 6th. On the 5th, at noon, the army from Paris fired the first shot; the battle of the Ourcq, a preface to the Marne, had begun.
General Clergerie then told what a precious purveyor of information he had found in General von der Marwitz, cavalry commander of the German first army, who made intemperate use of the wireless telegraph and did not even take the trouble to put into cipher his dispatches, of which the Eiffel Tower made a careful collection. "In the evening of September 9th," he said, "an officer of the intelligence corps brought me a dispatch from this same Marwitz couched in something like these terms: 'Tell me exactly where you are and what you are doing. Hurry up, because XXX.' The officer was greatly embarrassed to interpret those three X's. Adopting the language of the poilu, I said to him, 'Translate it, "I am going to bolt."' True enough, next day we found on the site of the German batteries, which had been precipitately evacuated, stacks of munitions; while by the roadside we came upon motors abandoned for the slightest breakdown, and near Betz almost the entire outfit of a field bakery, with a great store of flour and dough half-kneaded. Paris and France were saved.
"Von Kluck could not get over his astonishment. He has tried to explain it by saying he was unlucky, for out of a hundred governors not one would have acted as Gallieni did, throwing his whole available force nearly forty miles from his stronghold. It was downright imprudence."
CHAPTER VIII
JAPAN IN THE WAR
On August 15, 1914, the Empire of Japan issued an ultimatum to Germany. She demanded the evacuation of Tsing-tau, the disarming of the warships there and the handing over of the territory to Japan for ultimate reversion to China. The time limit for her reply was set at 12 o'clock, August 24th. To this ultimatum Germany made no reply, and at 2.30 P. M., August 23d, the German Ambassador was handed his passports and war was declared.
The reason for the action of Japan was simple. She was bound by treaty to Great Britain to come to her aid in any war in which Great Britain might be involved. On August 4th a note was received from Great Britain requesting Japan to safeguard British shipping in the Far East. Japan replied that she could not guarantee the safety of British shipping so long as Germany was in occupation of the Chinese province of Tsing-tau. She suggested in turn that England agree to allow her to remove this German menace. The British Government agreed, on the condition that Tsing-tau be subsequently returned to China.
The Japanese Government in taking this stand was acting with courage and with loyalty. Toward individual Germans she entertained no animosity. She had the highest respect for German scholarship and German military science. She had been sending her young men to German seats of learning, and had based the reorganization of her army upon the German military system. But she did not believe that a treaty was a mere "scrap of paper," and was determined to fulfill her obligations in the treaty with England.
It seems to have been the opinion of the highest Japanese military authorities that Germany would win the war. Japan's statesmen, however, believed that Germany was a menace to both China and Japan and had lively recollections of her unfriendly attitude in connection with the Chino-Japanese war and in the period that followed. Germany had been playing the same game in China that she had played in the Mediterranean and which had ultimately brought about the war.
The Chino-Japanese war had been a great Japanese triumph. One of Japan's greatest victories had been the capture of Port Arthur, but the joy caused in Japan had not ended before it was turned into mourning because of German interference. Germany had then compelled Japan to quit Port Arthur, and to hand over that great fort to Russia so that she herself might take Kiao-chau without Russia's objection.
Japan had never forgotten or forgiven. The German seizure of Kiao-chau had led to the Russian occupation of Port Arthur, the British occupation of Wei-hai-wei and French occupation of Kwan-chow Bay. The vultures were swooping down on defenseless China. This had led to the Boxer disturbance of 1910, where again the Kaiser had interfered.
Japan, who recognized that her interests and safety were closely allied with the preservation of the territorial integrity of China, had proposed to the powers that she be permitted to send her troops to the rescue of the beleaguered foreigners, but this proposition was refused on account of German suspicion of Japan's motives. Later on, during the Russo-Japanese war, Russia was assisted in many ways by the German Government.
Furthermore, the popular sympathy with the Japanese was strongly with the Allies. It was the Kaiser who started the cry of the "yellow peril," which had deeply hurt Japanese pride. Yet, even with this strong feeling, it was remarkable that Japan was willing to ally herself with Russia. She knew very well that after all the greatest danger to her liberties lay across the Japan Sea. Russian autocracy, with its militarism, its religious intolerance, its discriminating policy against foreign interests in commerce and trade, was the natural opponent of liberal Japan.
The immediate object of Japan in joining hands with England was to destroy the German menace in the Pacific. Before she delivered her ultimatum the Germans had been active; ignoring the rights of Japan while she was still neutral they had captured a Russian steamer within Japanese jurisdiction, as well as a number of British merchant vessels, and even a few Japanese ships had been intercepted by German cruisers. This was the disturbance to general peace in the Far East, which had prompted England to request Japan's assistance.
Japan, when she entered the war, was at least twice as strong as when she began the war with Russia. She had an army of one million men, and a navy double the size of that which she had possessed when the Treaty of Portsmouth was signed. As soon as war was declared she proceeded to act. A portion of her fleet was directed against the German forces in the Pacific, one squadron occupying Jaluit, the seat of government of the Marshall Islands, on October 3d, but her main forces were directed against the fortress of Tsing-tau.
The Germans had taken great pride in Tsing-tau, and had made every effort to make it a model colony as well as an impregnable fortress. They had built costly water works, fine streets and fine public buildings. They had been making great preparations for a state of siege, although it was not expected that they would be able to hold out for a long time. There were hardly more than five thousand soldiers in the fortress, and in the harbor but four small gunboats and an Austrian cruiser, the Kaiserin Elizabeth. As Austria was not at war with Japan the authorization of Japan was asked for the removal of the Kaiserin Elizabeth to Shanghai, where she could be interned. The Japanese were favorable to this proposition, but at the last moment instructions arrived from Vienna directing the Austro-Hungarian Ambassador to ask for his passports at Tokio and the commander of the Kaiserin Elizabeth to assist the Germans in the defense of Tsing-tau. The Germans also received orders to defend their fortress to the very last. A portion of the German squadron, under Admiral von Spee, had sailed away before the Japanese attack, one of these being the famous commerce raider, the Emden.
On the 27th of August the Japanese made their first move by taking possession of some of the small islands at the mouth of the harbor of Kiao-chau. From these points as bases they swept the surrounding waters for mines, with such success that during the whole siege but one vessel of their fleet was injured by a mine. On the 2d of September they landed troops at the northern base of the peninsula upon which Tsing-tau was situated, with the object of cutting off the fortress from the mainland.
The heavy rains which were customary at that season prevented much action, but airplanes were sent which dropped bombs upon the wireless station, electric power station and railway station of Kiao-chau, and upon the ships in the harbor. On September 13th General Kamio captured the railway station of Kiao-chau which stands at the head of the bay. This placed him twenty-two miles from Tsing-tau itself. On September 27th he captured Prince Heinrich Hill giving him a gun position from which he could attack the inner forts. On the 23d a small British force arrived from Wei-hai-wei to co-operate with the Japanese.
[Illustration: Map of the city Tsing-Tau and Kiao-Chau Bay.]
THE GERMAN GIBRALTAR IN THE FAR EAST WHICH FELL TO THE JAPANESE
The combined forces then advanced until they were only five miles from Tsing-tau. The German warships were bombarding the Japanese troops fiercely, and were being replied to by the Japanese squadron in the mouth of the harbor. The great waste of German ammunition led General Kamio to the opinion that the Germans did not contemplate a long siege. He then determined on a vigorous assault.
Before the attack was made he gave the non-combatants an opportunity of leaving, and on the 15th of October a number of women and children and Chinese were allowed to pass through the Japanese lines. On October 31st the bombardment began, and the German forts were gradually silenced. On November 2d the Kaiserin Elizabeth was sunk in the harbor.
The Allied armies were pushing their way steadily down, until, on November 6th, their trenches were along the edge of the last German redoubts. At 6 o'clock on that day white flags were floating over the central forts and by 7.30 Admiral Waldeck, the German Governor, had signed the terms of capitulation.
Germany's prize colony on the continent of Asia had disappeared. The survivors, numbering about three thousand, were sent to Japan as prisoners of war. Japanese losses were but two hundred and thirty-six men killed. They had, however, lost one third-class cruiser, the Takachiho, and several smaller crafts. The whole expedition was a notable success. It had occupied much less time than either Japan or Germany had expected, and the news was received in Germany with a universal feeling of bitterness and chagrin.
After the Japanese capture of Kiao-chau Japan's assistance to the Allies, while not spectacular, was extremely important, and its importance increased during the last two years of the war. Her cruiser squadrons did continuous patrol duty in the Pacific and in the China Sea and even in the Indian Ocean. She occupied three groups of German Islands in the South Sea, assisted in driving German raiders from the Pacific, and by her efficiency permitted a withdrawal of British warships to points where they could be useful nearer home. She patrolled the Pacific coast of North and South America, landed marines to quell riots at Singapore, and finally entered into active service in European waters by sending a destroyer squadron to the assistance of the Allies in the Mediterranean.
But while the aid of Japan's navy was important to the Allies, her greatest assistance to the Allied cause was what she did in supplying Russia with military supplies. The tremendous struggle carried on by Russia's forces during the first years prevented an easy German victory, and was only made possible through the assistance of Japan. Enormous quantities of guns, ammunition, military stores, hospital and Red Cross supplies, were sent into Russia, with skilled officers and experts to accompany them.
In the last year of the war Japan once more came prominently in the public eye in connection with the effort made by the Allies to protect from the Russian Bolsheviki vast stores of ammunition which had been landed in ports of Eastern Siberia. She was compelled to land troops to do this and to preserve order in localities where her citizens were in danger. Upon the development of the Czecho-Slovak movement in Eastern Siberia a Japanese force, in association with troops from the United States and Great Britain, was landed to protect the Czecho-Slovaks from Bolsheviki treachery. These troops succeeded in their object, and throughout the latter period of the war kept Eastern Siberia friendly to the Allied cause. In this campaign there was but little blood shed. The expedition was followed by the strong sympathy of the allied world which was full of admiration for the loyalty and courage of the Czecho-Slovaks and their heroic leaders.
CHAPTER IX
CAMPAIGN IN THE EAST
Long before the declaration of war the German military experts had made their plans. They recognized that in case of war with Russia, France would come to the rescue of its ally. They hoped that Italy, and felt sure that England, would remain neutral, but, no doubt, had provided for the possibility that these two nations would join the ranks of their foes. They recognized that they would be compelled to fight against greatly superior numbers, but they had this advantage, that they were prepared to move at once, while England was unprepared, and Russia, with enormous numbers, was so unprovided with railroad facilities that it would take weeks before her armies would be dangerous.
Their plan of campaign, then, was obvious. Leaving in the east only such forces as were necessary for a strong defense, they would throw the bulk of their strength against the French. They anticipated an easy march to Paris, and then with France at their mercy they would gather together all their powers and deal with Russia. But they had underestimated both the French power of resistance, and the Russian weakness, and in particular they had not counted upon the check that they were to meet with in gallant Belgium.
The Russian mobilization was quicker by far than had been anticipated. Her armies were soon engaged with the comparatively small German forces, and met with great success.
To understand the Russian campaign one must have some knowledge of the geography of western Russia. Russian Poland projects as a great quadrilateral into eastern Germany. It is bounded on the north by East Prussia, on the south by Galicia, and the western part reaches deep into Germany itself. The land is a broad, level plain, through which from south to north runs the River Vistula. In the center lies the capital, Warsaw, protected by a group of fortresses. The Russian army, therefore, could not make a direct western advance until it had protected its flanks by the conquest of East Prussia on the north, and Galicia on the south.
By the beginning of the third week in August the first Russian armies were ready. Her forces were arranged as follows: Facing East Prussia was the Army of the Niemen, four corps strong; the Army of Poland, consisting of fifteen army corps, occupied a wide front from Narev on the north to the Bug Valley; a third army, the Army of Galicia, directed its line of advance southward into the country between Lemberg and the River Sareth. The fortresses protecting Warsaw, still further to the east, were well garrisoned, and in front of them to the west were troops intended to delay any German advance from Posen. The Russian commander-in-chief was the Grand Duke Nicholas, uncle of the late Czar, and one of the most admirable representatives of the Russian at his best; a splendid soldier, honest, straightforward, and patriotic, he was the idol of his men. He had with him a brilliant staff, but the strength of his army lay in its experience. They had learned war in the bitter school of the Manchurian campaign.
The German force on the frontier was not less than five hundred thousand men, and they were arranged for defense. Austria, in Galicia, had gathered nearly one million men under the auspices of Frederick. The first movement of these armies took place in East Prussia. The Army of the Niemen had completed its mobilization early in August, and was under the command of General Rennenkampf, one of the Russian leaders in Manchuria. In command of the German forces was General von Francois, an officer of Huguenot descent.
The first clash of these armies took place on the German frontier near Libau, on August 3d. Two days later, the Russians crossed the frontier, drove in the German advance posts, and seized the railway which runs south and east of the Masurian Lakes. The German force fell back, burning villages and destroying roads, according to their usual plan. On the 7th of August the main army of Rennenkampf crossed the border at Suwalki, advancing in two main bodies: the Army of the Niemen moving north from Suwalki, the Army of the Narev marching through the region of the Masurian Lakes. In the lake district they advanced toward Boyen, and then directed their march toward Insterburg.
To protect Insterburg, General van Francois made his first stand at Gumbinnen, where, on the 16th of August, the first important battle of this campaign took place. The result was the defeat and retirement of the Germans, and von Francois was forced to fall back on Koenigsberg.
Meantime, the Army of the Narev, under General Samsonov, was advancing through the country west of the Masurian Lakes. On the 20th his vanguard came upon a German army corps, strongly entrenched at the northwest end of the lakes. The Germans were defeated, and fled in great disorder toward Koenigsberg, abandoning their guns and wagons. Many prisoners were taken, and the Russians found themselves masters of all of East Prussia except that inside the Koenigsberg line. They then marched on Koenigsberg, and East Prussia was for a moment at the mercy of the conqueror.
Troops were left to invest Koenigsberg, and East Prussia was overrun with the enemy. The report as to the behavior of these troops met with great indignation in Germany; but better information insists that they behaved with decorum and discretion. The peasantry of East Prussia, remembering wild tales of the Cossacks of a hundred years before, fled in confusion with stories of burning and slaughter and outrage.
Germany became aroused. To thoroughly understand the effect of the Russian invasion of East Prussia, one must know something of the relations of that district with the German Empire. Historically, this was the cradle of the Prussian aristocracy, whose dangerous policies had alarmed Europe for so many decades. The Prussian aristocracy originated in a mixture of certain west German and Christian knights, with a pagan population of the eastern Baltic plain. The district was separate from Poland and never fell under the Polish influence. It was held by the Teutonic knights who conquered it in a sort of savage independence. The Christian faith, which the Teutonic knights professed to inculcate, took little root, but such civilization as Germany itself had absorbed did filter in. The chief noble of Borussia, the governing Duke, acquired in time the title of King, and it was here, not in Berlin, nor in Brandenburg, that the Hohenzollern power originated.
[Illustration: Painting]
THE FURY OF A COSSACK CHARGE
Some of the most bitter fighting of the war took place on the
snow-covered heights of the Carpathians when Russia's armies struggled
with the foe. Here is illustrated a charge by Cossacks on an Austrian
battery. There is nothing in warfare quite like the furious onslaught
of the little men of the steppes on their wiry ponies.
[Illustration: Painting]
HIDE AND SEEK IN THE BALTIC
A Zeppelin flying over a British submarine in the stormy sea.
[Illustration: Map bounded by Koenigsberg on the North, Warsaw on the East,
Cracow on the South and Posen on the West.]
THE EASTERN FIGHTING ZONE
East Prussia, therefore, had a sentimental importance in the eyes of the Prussian nobility. The Prussian Royal House, in particular, had toward this country an especial regard. Moreover, it was regarded by the Germans as a whole as their rampart against the Slav, a proof of the German power to withstand the dreaded Russian. That this sacred soil should now be in the hands of a Cossack army was not to be borne. The Kaiser acted at once.
Large forces were detached from the west and sent to the aid of the eastern army. A new commander was appointed. He was General von Hindenburg, a veteran of the Franco-Prussian War who had been for some years retired. After his retirement he devoted his time to the study of East Prussia, especially the ground around the Masurian Lakes. He became more familiar with its roads, its fields, its marshes, its bogs than any of the peasants who spent their lives in the neighborhood of the lakes. Before his retirement, in the annual maneuvers, he had often rehearsed his defense against Russian invaders. Indeed report, perhaps unfounded, described his retirement to the displeasure of the Emperor William at being badly worsted in one of these mimic combats. He had prevented the country from being cleared and the swamps from being drained, arguing that they were worth more to Germany than a dozen fortresses. A man of rugged strength, his face suggesting power and tenacity, he was to become the idol of the German people.
His chance had come. His army consisted of remnants of the forces of von Francois and large reinforcements sent him from the west. In all, perhaps, he had with him 150,000 men, and he had behind him an admirable system of strategic railways.
The Russian High Command was full of confidence. Rennenkampf had advanced with the Army of the Niemen toward Koenigsberg, whose fall was reported from time to time, without foundation. Koenigsberg was in fact impregnable to armies no stronger than those under Rennenkampf's command. Samsonov with the Army of the Narev, had pushed on to the northeastern point of the lakes, and defeated the German army corps at Frankenau. Misled by his success, he decided to continue his advance through the lake region toward Allenstein. He marched first toward Osterode, in the wilderness of forest, lake and marsh, between Allenstein and the Lower Vistula. His force numbered 200,000 men, but the swamps made it impossible to proceed in mass. His column had to be temporarily divided, nor was he well informed as to the strength of his enemy. On Wednesday, the 26th of August, his advance guards were everywhere driven in. As he pushed on he discovered the enemy in great numbers, and late in the day realized that he was facing a great army.
Von Hindenburg had taken a position astride the railway from Allenstein to Soldau, and all access to his front was barred by lakes and swamps. He was safe from frontal attack, and could reinforce each wing at pleasure. From his right ran the only two good roads in the region, and at his left was the Osterode railway. On the first day he stood on the defensive, while the Russians, confident of victory, attacked again and again. Some ground was won and prisoners captured, and the news of a second victory was sent to western Europe.
The battle continued, however, until the last day of August and is known as the battle of Tannenberg, from a village of that name near the marshes. Having worn down his enemy, von Hindenburg counter-attacked. His first movement was on his right. This not only deceived Samsonov and led him to reinforce his left, but also enabled von Hindenburg to seize the only good road that would give the Russian army a chance of retreat. Meanwhile the German general was hurrying masses of troops northeastward to outflank the Russian right. While the Russians were reinforcing one flank, he was concentrating every man he could upon the other. Then his left swept southward, driving in and enveloping the Russian right, and Samsonov was driven into a country full of swamps and almost without roads.
To thoroughly understand the plight of the Russian army one must have some idea of the character of the Masurian Lake district. It was probably molded by the work of ice in the past. Great glaciers, in their progress toward the sea, have ground out hundreds of hollows, where are found small pools and considerable lakes. From these glaciers have been dropped patches of clay which hold the waters in wide extents of marsh and bog. The country presents a monotonous picture of low, rounded swells and flats, interspersed with stunted pine and birch woods. The marshes and the lakes form a labyrinth, difficult to pass even to those familiar with the country. The Masurian region is a great trap for any commander who has not had unlimited acquaintance with the place. Causeways, filled with great care, and railroads permit an orderly advance, but in a confused retreat disaster at once threatens.
This was the ground that von Hindenburg knew so well. The Russians resisted desperately, but their position could not be held. Disaster awaited them. They found their guns sinking to the axle-trees in mire. Whole regiments were driven into the lakes and drowned. On the last day of battle, August 31st, Samsonov himself was killed, and his army completely destroyed. Fifty thousand prisoners were taken with hundreds of guns and quantities of supplies. Von Hindenburg had attained the triumph of which he had so long dreamed.
It was an immensely successful example of that enveloping movement characteristic of German warfare, a victory recalling the battle of Sedan, and it was upon a scale not inferior to that battle.
The news of this great triumph reached Berlin upon the anniversary of the battle of Sedan, and on the same day that the news came from the west that von Kluck had reached the gates of Paris and it had a profound effect upon the German mind. They had grown to believe that the Germans were a sort of superman; these wonderful successes confirmed them in this belief.
No longer did they talk of a mere defense in the east; an advance on Warsaw was demanded and von Hindenburg was acclaimed the greatest soldier of his day. The Emperor made him Field Marshal, and placed him in command of the Teutonic armies in the east.
But von Hindenburg was not satisfied. The remnant of the defeated army had fled toward Narev, and without losing a moment von Hindenburg set off in pursuit. Rennenkampf, all this time, strange to say, had made no move, and at the news of Samsonov's disaster he abandoned the siege of Koenigsberg and retreated toward the Niemen. At Gumbinnen he fought a rear-guard action with the German left, but had made up his mind that the Niemen must be the Russian line of defense. Von Hindenburg, following, crossed the Russian frontier and in the wide forests near Augustovo there was much fighting.
[Illustration: Photographs]
LEADING GERMAN GENERALS
Von Hindenburg, Chief of the German General Staff; von Ludendorff,
Strategist of the General Staff; von Moltke, dismissed by the Kaiser
for incompetency; von Mackensen, Commander in the East; Crown Prince
Rupprecht of Bavaria, Army Commander in the West.
[Illustration: Photograph]
Photo by Press Illustrated Service.
THE GERMAN GENERAL STAFF
von Mackensen, von Moltke, Crown Prince Wilhelm, von Francois,
von Falkenhayn, von Beseler, von Bethmann-Hollweg, von Bulow,
Duke Albrecht, Ludendorf, von Einem, von Hindenburg, von Heeringen,
Crown Prince Rupprecht, von Kluck, von Haeseler, von Tirpitz,
Kaiser Wilhelm II, von Emmich
This action, described as the first battle of Augustovo, was only a rear-guard action, the Russians desiring merely to delay the enemy for a day or two. German reports, however, described it as a victory only second in importance to Tannenberg. Von Hindenburg then occupied Suwalki. He apparently had become over confident, and hardly realized that Rennenkampf was continually being reinforced by the Russian mobilization.
The Russian High Command understood the situation very well. Their aim was to keep von Hindenburg busy on the Niemen, while their armies in the south were overwhelming the fleeing Austrians. Von Hindenburg was deceived, and continued his advance until he got into serious trouble. His movement had begun on September 7th; his army consisted of the four corps with which he had won Tannenberg, and large reinforcements from Germany, including at least one guards battalion, and a number of Saxons and Bavarians. The country is one vast mixture of marsh and lake and bog. The roads are few, and advance must therefore be slow and difficult. Rennenkampf made no attempt to delay him beyond a little rear-guard fighting. The German army reached the Niemen on September 21st, and found behind it the Russian army in prepared positions, with large reinforcements from Vilna.
The river at this point was wide and deep, and hard to cross. The battle of the Niemen Crossings was an artillery duel. The Russians quietly waited in their trenches to watch the Germans build their pontoon bridges. Then their guns blew the bridges to pieces. Thereupon von Hindenburg bombarded the Russian lines hoping to destroy the Russian guns. On Friday, the 26th, his guns boomed all day; the Russians made no reply. So on the morning of the 27th he built bridges again, and again the Russians blew them to pieces. On the 28th he gave the order for retreat.
He realized that the game wasn't worth the candle; he might easily be kept fighting on the Niemen for months, while the main armies of the Russians were crossing Austria. Von Hindenburg conducted the retreat with a skill which came to him naturally from his knowledge of the marshes.
Rennenkampf followed him closely, keeping up persistent attacks through the woods and marshes. The path of the retreating army lay through the forest of Augustovo, a country much like that around the Masurian Lakes, and there the Germans suffered heavy losses. Von Hindenburg managed, however, to get the bulk of his forces back across the frontier and continued his retreat to the intrenchments on the Masurian Lakes.
The Germans lost 60,000 men in killed, wounded and prisoners, and von Hindenburg handed over the command of the German armies in East Prussia to General von Schubert, and hastened south to direct the movement to relieve the Austrians at Cracow.
But quite as important as the campaign in East Prussia was the struggle in Galicia. When the war began the Germans contemplated merely defense in their own domain; such offense as was planned was left to the Austrians farther south.
Galicia is a long, level country lying north of the Carpathian Mountains, and in this country Austria-Hungary had gathered together a force of hardly less than one million men. A quarter of these lay in reserve near the mountains; the remaining three-quarters was divided into two armies; the first, the northern army, being under the command of General Dankl, the second was that of von Offenberg. The base of the first army was Przemysl; that of the second was Lemberg.
The first army, it was planned, was to advance into Russian territory in the direction of Lublin. The second army, stationed southeast of the first army, was to protect it from any Russians who might strike in upon the south. The first army, therefore, contained more picked material than the second, which included many troops from the southern parts of the empire, including certain disaffected contingents. The first army made its advance as soon as possible, and entered Russian territory on the 11th of August. It went forward with very little loss and against very little resistance. The Russian forces which were against it were inferior in number, and fell back towards the Bug. The Austrians followed, turning somewhat toward the east, when their advance was checked by news of catastrophe in their rear. On the 14th of August the Russian army under General Ruzsky crossed the frontier, and advanced toward the Austrian second army.
The Russian army was in far greater strength than had been expected, and when its advance was followed by the appearance upon the right flank of von Offenberg's command, of yet another Russian army, under Brussilov, the Austrian second army found itself in great danger. Ruzsky advanced steadily from August 14th until, on the 21st, it was not more than one day's advance from the outer works of Lemberg, and the third Russian army under Brussilov was threatening von Offenberg's right flank.
Von Offenberg, underestimating the strength of the enemy, undertook to give battle. The first outpost actions were successful for the Austrians, and helped them in their blunder. On the 24th of August the two Russian armies effected a junction, and their Austrian opponents found themselves threatened with disaster. An endeavor was made to retreat, but the retreat turned into a rout. On the 28th Tarnopol was captured by the Russians, and the Austrian army found itself compelled to fall back upon defense positions to the south and east of Lemberg itself.
The attack of the Russian armies was completely successful. The Austrian army was driven from its positions, and on September 4th the Austrians evacuated Lemberg and the Russian forces took possession of the town. The Austrians fled. The population welcomed the conquerors with the greatest enthusiasm. An immense quantity of stores of every kind were captured by the Russians together with at least 100,000 prisoners. There was no looting, nor any kind of outrage. The Russian policy was to make friends of the inhabitants of Galicia.
But there was no halt after Lemberg. Brussilov divided his army, and sent his left wing into the Carpathian passes; his center and right moved west toward Przemysl; while Ruzsky moved northwest to reinforce the Russian army on the Bug. Meanwhile the position of Dankl's army was perilous in the extreme. There were two possible courses, one to fall back and join the remnants of von Offenberg's army, the other to attack at once, before the first Russian army could be reinforced, and if victorious to turn on Ruzsky.
Dankl's army was now very strong. He had received reinforcements, not only from Austria but from Germany. On the 4th of September he attacked the Russian center; his attack was a failure, although he outnumbered the Russians. The battle continued until the tenth.
Everywhere the Austrians were beaten, and driven off in ignominious retreat. The whole Austrian force fled southward in great disorder; a part directed its flight toward Przemysl, others still farther west toward Cracow. Austria had been completely defeated. Poland was clear of the enemy. The Russian flag flew over Lemberg, while the Russian army was marching toward Cracow. The Russian star was in the ascendant.
But the Austrian armies had not been annihilated. An army of nearly a million men cannot be destroyed in so short a time. The Austrian failure was due in part to the disaffection of some of the elements of the army, and in part to the poor Austrian generalship. They had underestimated their foe, and ventured on a most perilous plan of campaign.
Russian generalship had been most admirable, and the Russian generals were men of ability and experience. Brussilov had seen service in the Turkish War of 1877. Ruzsky was a professor in the Russian War Academy. In the Japanese war he had been chief of staff to General Kaulbars, the commander of the Second Manchurian army. Associated with him was General Radko Dmitrieff, an able officer with a most interesting career. General Dmitrieff was born in Bulgaria, when it was a Turkish province. He graduated at the Military School at Sofia, and afterwards at the War Academy at Petrograd. On his return to Bulgaria he commanded a regiment in the Serbian-Bulgarian war. Later he became mixed up in the conspiracy against Prince Alexander, and was forced to leave Bulgaria. For ten years he served in the Russian army, returning to Bulgaria on the accession of Prince Ferdinand. Later on he became Chief of the General Staff, and when the Balkan war broke out he commanded one of the Bulgarian armies, won several important victories, and became a popular hero of the war. Disgusted with the political squabbles which followed the war, he returned to Russia as a general in the Russian army. With men like these in command, the Russian Empire was well served.
After the decisive defeat of the Austrian army under General Dankl, certain changes were made in the Russian High Command. General Ruzsky was made commander of the center, which was largely reinforced. General Ivanov was put in command of the armies operating in Galicia with Dmitrieff and Brussilov as his chief lieutenants. Brussilov's business was to seize the deep passes in the Carpathians and to threaten Hungary. Dmitrieff's duty was to press the Austrian retreat, and capture the main fortresses of central Galicia.
There are two great fortresses on the River San, Jaroslav and Przemysl, both of them controlling important railroad routes. Jaroslav on the main line from Lemberg to Cracow, Przemysl with a line which skirts the Carpathians, and connects with lines going south to Hungary. Jaroslav was fortified by a strong circle of intrenchments and was looked to by Austria for stout resistance. The Austrians were disappointed, for Ivanov captured it in three days, on the 23d of September. Dmitrieff found Przemysl a harder nut to crack. It held out for many months, while operations of greater importance were being carried on by the Russian armies. The plans of the Russian generals in some respects were not unlike the plan previously suggested as that of the German High Command. At the beginning of the war they had no desire to carry on a powerful offensive against Germany. The expedition into East Prussia was conducted more for political than for military purposes. The real offensive at the start was to be against Austria. The Russian movements were cautious at first, but the easy capture of Lemberg, the fall of Jaroslav, and the demoralization of the Austrian armies, encouraged more daring strategy. With the Germans stopped on the north, little aid to the Austrians could come from that source. The Grand Duke Nicholas was eager to strike a great blow before the winter struck in, so his armies swept to the great Polish city of Cracow. The campaign against Austria also had a political side.
Russia had determined upon a new attitude toward Poland. On August 15th the Grand Duke Nicholas, on behalf of the Czar, had issued a proclamation offering self-government to Russian Poland. Home rule for Poland had long been a favorite plan with the Czar. Now he promised, not only to give Russian Poland home rule, but to add to it the Polish peoples in Austria and Germany. This meant that Austria and Germany would have to give up Galicia on the one hand, and Prussian Poland on the other, if they should lose the war. In the old days Poland had been one of the greatest kingdoms in Europe, with a proud nobility and high civilization. She was one of the first of the great Slav peoples to penetrate the west. Later she had protected Europe against Tartar invasion, but internal differences had weakened her, and, surrounded by enemies, she had first been plundered, and later on divided between Austria, Russia and Prussia. Never had the Poles consented to this destruction of their independence. Galicia had constantly struggled against Austria; Prussian Poland was equally disturbing to the Prussian peace, and Russia was only able to maintain the control of her Polish province by the sword.
Of the three the Pole was probably more inclined to keep on friendly terms with Russia, also a Slav people. The policy of the Czar encouraged this inclination and produced disaffection among the Poles in Galicia and in Posen. Moreover, it gave Russia the sympathy of the world which had long regarded the partition of Poland as a political crime. It encouraged the Czecho-Slavs and other dissatisfied portions of the Austrian Empire.
The results were seen immediately in the demoralization of the Austrian armies where considerable numbers of Czecho-Slovak troops deserted to the Russian army, and later in the loyalty to Russia of the Poles, and their refusal, even under the greatest German pressure, to give the German Empire aid.
CHAPTER X
THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY ON THE SEA
Captain Mahan's thesis that in any great war the nation possessing the greater sea power is likely to win, was splendidly illustrated during the World War.
The great English fleets proved the insuperable obstacle to the ambitious German plans of world dominion. The millions of soldiers landed in France from Great Britain, and its provinces, the millions of Americans transported in safety across the water, and the enormous quantities of supplies put at the disposal of the Allies depended, absolutely, upon the Allied control of the sea routes of the world. With a superior navy a German blockade of England would have brought her to terms in a short period, and France, left to fight alone, would have been an easy victim. The British navy saved the world.
Germany had for many years well understood the necessity of power upon the sea. When the war broke out it was the second greatest of the sea powers. Its ships were mostly modern, for its navy was a creation of the past fifteen years, and its development was obviously for the purpose of attacking the British supremacy. The father of this new navy was a naval officer by the name of von Tirpitz, who, in 1897, had become the German Naval Minister. With the aid of the Emperor he had aroused among the Germans a great enthusiasm for maritime power, and had built up a navy in fifteen years, which was second only to the English navy.
Von Tirpitz was an interesting character. In appearance he looked like an old sea-wolf who had passed his life on the wave, but such a thought would be a mistake. The great admiral's work was done on land; he was an organizer, a diplomatist, and a politician. He created nothing new; in all its details he merely copied the English fleet. He is tall, heavily built, with a great white beard, forked in the middle. He is a man of much dignity, with a smile which has won him renown. He might have been Chancellor of the Empire but he preferred to devote himself to the navy, to prove that the future of Germany is on the seas. His glories are the Lusitania, the fleet safely anchored at Kiel, and the long rows of innocent victims of the submarine.
He was born in 1850 at Kustrion on the Ildor, when the German navy was only a little group of worthless boats. In 1865 he entered the School of Cadets, in 1869 he was gazetted lieutenant, in 1875 he was lieutenant-commander with a reputation as an able organizer. In 1891 he was appointed Chief of Staff at Kiel. This was his opportunity, and he set himself at the task of creating and protecting the submarine division of the navy. As time went on he grew in importance. In 1898 he became Assistant Secretary of State at the Admiralty in Berlin. Two years later he became vice-admiral. His admirers recognized his powers, and he was called the master. In 1899 a patent of nobility was conferred upon him. In 1902 he gained permission to build 13,000-ton war ships, and the following year he was made admiral. In 1907 enormous appropriations were made at his desire for the enlargement of the fleet. In 1908 Emperor William conferred on him the Order of the Black Eagle. In 1914 the Kiel Canal was completed under his direction, and he informed the Emperor that the fleet was ready. It is only fair to add that in all his plans he had the active support of his Imperial Master. The Kaiser, too, had dreamed a dream. Von Tirpitz admired the English. His children had been brought up in England, as was also his wife. He imitated the English, but on the day of the declaration of war he absolutely forbade his family to talk English, and he made a bonfire of his fine scientific library of English books. The Kaiser treated Von Tirpitz as his friend, asked his advice, and followed his counsel. His son, Sub-Lieutenant Wolf Von Tirpitz, studied at Oxford, and is on the most friendly terms with many English gentlemen of importance. He was on board the Mainz, which was sunk off Helgoland in August, 1916. In full uniform he swam for twenty minutes, before being picked up by one of the boats of the cruiser Liverpool. He was a lucky prisoner of war. The German battleships and cruisers which represent the toil of von Tirpitz for more than half a century, lay hidden away in the shelter of the Kiel Canal during the war to be ingloriously surrendered at its end. His name will remain linked with that of the Lusitania.
[Illustration: Painting: Seven sailors firing a large deck gun against
a sinking ship in the background.]
DRIVING THE GERMAN COMMERCE RAIDERS OFF THE SEAS
The British light cruiser, "Highflyer," sinking the "Kaiser Wilhelm
der Grosse" off the West Coast of Africa early in the war. The
commerce-destroyer was attacking a British steamer when the cruiser
came up and sent her to the bottom. Inserts show both ships.
[Illustration: Painting: Torpedo crossing behind the path of a small ship.] Copyright International Film Service. ESCAPING A TORPEDO BY RAPID MANEUVERING This destroyer escaped a torpedo from a hunted submarine by quickly turning. Generally the torpedo travels at about fifteen feet under water.
The German High Sea Fleet, at the beginning of the war, consisted of forty-one battleships, seven battle cruisers, nine armored cruisers, forty-nine light cruisers, one hundred and forty-five destroyers, eighty torpedo boats, and thirty-eight submarines. Under the direction of Von Tirpitz the navy had become democratic and had drawn to it many able men of the middle class. Its training was highly specialized and the officers were enthusiasts in their profession. The navy of Austria-Hungary had also expanded in recent years under the inspiration of Admiral Montecuculi. At the outbreak of the war the fleet comprised sixteen battleships, two armored and twelve light cruisers, eighteen destroyers, eighty-five torpedo boats and eleven submarines. The Allies were much more powerful. The French navy had in the matter of invention given the lead to the world, but its size had not kept pace with its quality. At the beginning of the war France had thirty-one battleships, twenty-four armored cruisers, eight light cruisers, eighty-seven destroyers, one hundred and fifty-three torpedo boats and seventy-six submarines. Russia, after the war with Japan, had begun the creation of a powerful battle fleet, which had not been completed when war was declared. At that time she had on the Baltic four dreadnaughts, ten armored cruisers, two light cruisers, eighty destroyers and twenty-four submarines, and a fleet of about half the strength in the Black Sea.
The English fleet had reached a point of efficiency which was unprecedented in its history. The progress of the German sea power had stimulated the spirit of the fleet, and led to a steady advance in training and equipment. The development of armament, and of battleship designing, the improvement in gunnery practice, the revision of the rate of pay, the opening up of careers from the lower deck, and the provision of a naval air service are landmarks in the advance. In the navy estimates of March, 1914, Parliament sanctioned over 51,000,000 Pounds for a naval defense, the largest appropriation for the purpose ever made. The home fleet was arranged in three units, the first fleet was divided into four battle squadrons, together with the flagship of the commander-in-chief. The first squadron was made up of eight battleships, the second squadron contained eight, the third eight and the fourth four. Attached to each fleet was a battle cruiser squadron, consisting of four ships in the first fleet, four in the second, four in the third and five in the fourth.
The fourth also contained a light cruiser squadron, a squadron of six gunboats for mine sweeping, and four flotillas of destroyers, each with a flotilla cruiser attached. The second fleet was composed of two battle squadrons, the first containing eight pre-dreadnaughts, and the second six. Attached to this fleet were also two cruiser squadrons, a mine layer squadron of seven vessels, four patrol flotillas, consisting of destroyers and torpedo boats, and seven flotillas of submarines. A third fleet contained two battle squadrons, mainly composed of old ships, with six cruiser squadrons. The English strength, outside home waters, consisted of the Mediterranean fleet, containing three battle cruisers, four armored cruisers, four ordinary cruisers and a flotilla of seventeen destroyers, together with submarines and torpedo boats. In eastern waters there were a battleship, two cruisers, and four sloops. In the China squadron there were one battleship, two armored cruisers, two ordinary cruisers, and a number of gunboats, destroyers, submarines, and torpedo boats. In New Zealand there were four cruisers. The Australian fleet contained a battle cruiser, three ordinary cruisers, three destroyers and two submarines. Other cruisers and gunboats were stationed at the Cape, the west coast of Africa, and along the western Atlantic. At the outbreak of the war two destroyers were purchased from Chile, and two Turkish battleships, building in England, were commandeered by the government.
It is evident that the union of France and Britain made the Allies easily superior in the Mediterranean Sea, so that France was able to transport her African troops in safety, and the British commerce with India and the East could safely continue. The main field of the naval war, therefore, was the North Sea and the Baltic, where Germany had all her fleet, except a few naval raiders. The entrance to the Baltic was closed to the enemy by Denmark, which, as a neutral, was bound to prevent an enemy fleet from passing. Germany, however, by means of the Kiel Canal, could permit the largest battle fleet to pass from the Baltic to the North Sea. The German High Sea Fleet was weaker than the British home fleet by more than forty per cent, and the German policy, therefore, was to avoid a battle, until, through mine layers and submarines, the British power should have been sufficiently weakened. The form of the German coast made this plan easily possible. The various bays and river mouths provided safe retreat for the German ships, and the German fleet were made secure by the fortifications along the coast. On July the 29th, 1914, at the conclusion of the annual maneuvers, instead of being demobilized as would have been usual, the Grand Fleet of Great Britain sailed from Portland along the coast into the mists, and from that moment dominated the whole course of the war.
From the 4th of August, the date of the declaration of war, the oceans of the world were practically rid of enemy war ships, and were closed to enemy mercantile marine. Although diplomacy had not yet failed, the masters of the English navy were not caught napping. The credit for this readiness has been given to Mr. Winston Churchill, one of the first Lords of the Admiralty, who had divined the coming danger. When the grand fleet sailed it seemed to disappear from English view. Occasionally some dweller along the coast might see an occasional cruiser or destroyer sweeping by in the distance, but the great battleships had gone. Somewhere, in some hidden harbor, lay the vigilant fleets of England.
Sea fighting had changed since the days of Admiral Nelson. The old wooden ship belonged to a past generation. The guns of a battleship would have sunk the Spanish Armada with one broadside. In this modern day the battleship was protected by aircraft, which dropped bombs from the clouds. Unseen submarines circled about her. Beneath her might be mines, which could destroy her at the slightest touch. Everything had changed but the daring of the English sailor.
In command of the Home fleet was Admiral Sir John Jellicoe. He had had a distinguished career. Beginning as a lieutenant in the Egyptian War of 1882, he had become a commander in 1891. In 1897 he became a captain, and served in China, commanding the Naval Brigade in the Pekin Expedition of 1900, where he was severely wounded. Later he became naval assistant to the Controller of the Navy, Director of Naval Ordnance and Torpedoes, Rear-Admiral in the United Fleet, Lord Commissioner of the Admiralty and Controller of the Navy, Vice-Admiral commanding the Atlantic fleet, Vice-Admiral commanding the second division of the Home fleet, and second Sea Lord of the Admiralty. He had distinguished himself in the naval maneuvers of 1913, and was one of the officers mainly responsible for the development of the modern English navy. He had the confidence of his colleagues, and a peculiar popularity among the British seamen.
On the day after the declaration of war, the first shots were fired. German mine layers, it is now believed, in disguise, had been dropping mines during the preceding week over a wide area of the North Sea. On the 5th of August the mine layer, Koenigen Luise, was sunk by the destroyer Lance, and on August 6th the British light cruiser Amphion struck one of the mines laid by the Koenigen Luise and was sunk with great loss of life. On August 9th, German submarines attacked a cruiser squadron without causing any damage, and one submarine was sunk.
It was in the Mediterranean, however, that the greatest interest was felt during the first week of the war. Two German war ships, the Goeben and the Breslau, were off the Algerian coast when war broke out. It is probable that when these ships received their sailing orders, Germany depended on the assistance of Italy, and had sent these ships to its assistance. They were admirably suited for commerce destroyers. They began by bombarding the Algerian coast towns of Bona and Phillipe, doing little damage. They then turned toward the coast of Gibraltar, but found before them the British fleet. Eluding the British they next appeared at Messina. There the captains and officers made their wills and deposited their valuables, including signed portraits of the Kaiser, with the German consul. The decks were cleared for action, and with the bands playing they sailed out under a blood-red sunset.
However, they seem to have been intent only on escape, and they went at full speed eastward toward the Dardanelles, meeting in their way only with the British cruiser Gloucester, which, though much inferior in size, attacked them boldly but was unable to prevent their escape. On entering Constantinople they were reported as being sold to the Turkish Government, the Turks thus beginning the line of conduct which was ultimately to bring them into the war.
Picturesque as this incident was it was of no importance as compared with the great British blockade of Germany which began on the 4th of August. German merchantmen in every country of the empire were seized, and hundreds of ships were captured on the high seas. Those who escaped to neutral ports were at once interned. In a week German commerce had ceased to exist. A few German cruisers were still at large but it was not long before they had been captured, or driven into neutral ports. Among the most picturesque of these raiders were the Emden and the Koenigsberg. The Emden, in particular, interested the world with her romantic adventures. Her story is best told in the words of Lieutenant-Captain von Mucke, and Lieutenant Gyssing, whose return to Germany with forty-four men, four officers and one surgeon, after the destruction of the ship, was a veritable Odyssey.
[Illustration: Painting]
A BATTLE OF FOUR ELEMENTS
British monitors shelling the German land batteries near Nieuport.
German submarines were actively engaged in trying to torpedo these
monitors and the British monoplane was useful for giving the range to
the ship and reporting the accuracy of the shots.
[Illustration: Painting]
TORPEDOING OF THE BRITISH BATTLESHIP, "ABOUKIR"
In the first few weeks of the war, when the navies of the world were
still at open warfare, during a sharp engagement off the Hook of
Holland in the North Sea the British warships "Aboukir", "Cressy" and
"Hogue" fell victims to the enemy. This sketch shows the "Aboukir"
after a German torpedo had found its mark in her hull.
"We on the Emden had no idea where we were going, as, on August 11, 1914, we separated from the cruiser squadron, escorted only by the coaler Markomannia. Under way the Emden picked up three officers from German steamers. That was a piece of luck, for afterward we needed many officers for the capturing and sinking of steamers, or manning them when we took them with us. On September 10th, the first boat came in sight. We stopped her; she proved to be a Greek tramp returning from England. On the next day we met the Indus, bound for Bombay, all fitted up as a troop transport, but still without troops. That was the first one we sunk. The crew we took aboard the Markomannia. Then we sank the Lovat, a troop transport ship, and took the Kambinga along with us. One gets used quickly to new forms of activity. After a few days, capturing ships became a habit. Of the twenty-three which we captured most of them stopped after our first signal; when they didn't, we fired a blank shot. Then they all stopped. Only one, the Clan Matteson, waited for a real shot across the bow before giving up its many automobiles and locomotives to the seas.
"The officers were mostly very polite, and let down rope ladders for us. After a few hours they would be on board with us. We ourselves never set foot in their cabins, nor took charge of them. The officers often acted on their own initiative, and signaled to us the nature of their cargo. Then the commandant decided as to whether to sink the ship or take it with us. Of the cargo we always took every thing we could use, particularly provisions. Many of the English officers and sailors made good use of the hours of transfer to drink up the supply of whisky instead of sacrificing it to the waves. I heard that one captain was lying in tears at the enforced separation from his beloved ship, but on investigation found that he was merely dead drunk, The captain on one ship once called out cheerily 'Thank God, I've been captured.' He had received expense money for the trip to Australia, and was now saved half the journey."
Parenthetically it may be remarked, that the Emden's captain, Karl von Mueller, conducted himself at all times with chivalrous bravery, according to the accounts of the English themselves, who in their reports say of him, admiringly, "He played the game." Captain von Mucke's account continues:
"We had mostly quiet weather, so that communication with captured ships was easy. They were mostly dynamited, or else shot close to the water line. At Calcutta we made one of our richest hauls, the Diplomat, chock full of tea, we sunk $2,500,000 worth. On the same day the Trabbotch, too, which steered right straight towards us, was captured. By now we wanted to beat it out of the Bay of Bengal, because we had learned from the papers that the Emden was being keenly searched for. By Rangoon we encountered a Norwegian tramp, which, for a cash consideration, took over all the rest of our prisoners of war.
"On September 23d we reached Madras, and steered straight for the harbor. We stopped still 3,000 yards before the city. Then we shot up the oil tanks; three or four of them burned up and illuminated the city. Two days later we navigated around Ceylon, and could see the lights of Colombo. On the same evening we gathered in two more steamers, the King Lund, and Tywerse. The next evening we got the Burresk, a nice steamer with 500 tons of nice Cardiff coal. Then followed in order, the Ryberia, Foyle, Grand Ponrabbel, Benmore, Troiens, Exfort, Graycefale, Sankt Eckbert, Chilkana. Most of them were sunk. The coal ships were kept. All this happened before October 20th. Then we sailed southward to Deogazia, southwest of Colombo."
The captain then tells with much gusto a story of a visit paid to the Emden by some English farmers, at Deogazia, who were entertained royally by the Emden officers. They knew nothing about the war, and the Emden officers told them nothing. His narrative continues:
"Now we went toward Miniko, where we sank two ships more. On the next day we found three steamers to the north, one of them with much desired Cardiff coal. From English papers on the captured ships we learned that we were being hotly pursued. One night we started for Penang. On October 28th we raised a very practicable fourth smokestack (for disguise). The harbor of Penang lies in a channel difficult of access. There was nothing doing by night. We had to do it at daybreak. At high speed, without smoke, with lights out, we steered into the mouth of the channel. A torpedo boat on guard slept well. We steamed past its small light. Inside lay a dark silhouette. That must be a warship. We recognized the silhouette dead sure. That was the Russian cruiser Jemtchud. There it lay, there it slept like a rat, no watch to be seen. They made it easy for us. Because of the narrowness of the harbor we had to keep close; we fired the first torpedo at four hundred yards.
"Then, to be sure, things livened up a bit on the sleeping warship. At the same time we took the crew quarters under fire five shells at a time. There was a flash of flame on board, then a kind of burning aureole. After the fourth shell the flame burned high. The first torpedo had struck the ship too deep, because we were too close to it. A second torpedo which we fired off from the other side didn't make the same mistake. After twenty seconds there was absolutely not a trace of the ship to be seen.
"But now another ship which we couldn't see was firing. That was the French D'Ivrebreville, toward which we now turned at once. A few minutes later an incoming torpedo destroyer was reported. It proved to be the French torpedo boat Mousquet. It came straight toward us. That's always remained a mystery to me, for it must have heard the shooting. An officer whom we fished up afterward explained to me that they had only recognized we were a German warship when they were quite close to us. The Frenchman behaved well, accepted battle and fought on, but was polished off by us with three broadsides. The whole fight with those ships lasted half an hour. The commander of the torpedo boat lost both legs by the first broadside. When he saw that part of his crew were leaping overboard he cried out 'Tie me fast. I will not survive after seeing Frenchmen desert their ship.' As a matter of fact he went down with his ship, as a brave captain, lashed fast to the mast. That was my only sea-fight.
"On November 9th I left the Emden in order to destroy the wireless plant on the Cocos Island. I had fifty men, four machine guns and about thirty rifles. Just as we were about to destroy the apparatus it reported 'Careful. Emden near.' The work of destruction went smoothly. Presently the Emden signaled to us 'Hurry up.' I pack up, but simultaneously wails the Emden's siren. I hurry up to the bridge, see the flag 'Anna' go up. That means weigh anchor. We ran like mad into our boat, but already the Emden's pennant goes up, the battle flag is raised, they fire from starboard. The enemy is concealed by the island, and therefore not to be seen, but I see the shell strike the water. To follow and catch the Emden is out of question. She is going twenty knots, I only four with my steam pinnace. Therefore I turn back to land, raise the flag, declare German laws of war in force, seize all arms, set out my machine guns on shore in order to guard against a hostile landing. Then I run again in order to observe the fight."
The cable operator at Cocos Island gives the following account of what happened from this point. After describing the sudden flight of the Emden, he goes on: "Looking to the eastward we could see the reason for this sudden departure, for a warship, which we afterwards learned was the Australian cruiser Sydney, was coming up at full speed in pursuit. The Emden did not wait to discuss matters, but, firing her first shot at a range of about 3,700 yards, steamed north as hard as she could go. At first the firing of the Emden seemed excellent, while that of the Sydney was somewhat erratic. This, as I afterward learned, was due to the fact that the Australian cruiser's range finder was put out of action by one of the only two shots the Germans got home. However, the British gunners soon overcame any difficulties that this may have caused, and settled down to their work, so that before long two of the Emden's funnels had been shot away. She also lost one of her masts quite early in the fight. Both blazing away with their big guns the two cruisers disappeared below the horizon, the Emden being on fire.
"Early the next morning, Tuesday, November 10th, we saw the Sydney returning, and at 8.45 A. M. she anchored off the island. From various members of the crew I gathered some details of the running fight with the Emden. The Sydney, having an advantage in speed, was able to keep out of range of the Emden's guns, and to bombard with her own heavier metal. The engagement lasted eighty minutes, the Emden finally running ashore on North Keeling Island, and becoming an utter wreck. Only two German shots proved effective, one of these failed to explode, but smashed the main range finder and killed one man, the other killed three men and wounded fourteen.
"Each of the cruisers attempted to torpedo the other, but both were unsuccessful, and the duel proved a contest in hard pounding at long range. The Sydney's speed during the fighting was twenty-six knots, and the Emden's twenty-four knots. The British ship's superiority of two knots enabled her to choose the range at which the battle should be fought and to make the most of her superior guns. Finally, with a number of wounded prisoners on board, the Sydney left here yesterday, and our few hours of war excitement were over."
Captain Mucke's return home from the Cocos Island was filled with the most extraordinary adventures, and when he finally arrived in country controlled by his Allies he was greeted as a hero.
While the story of the Emden especially interested the world, the Koenigsberg also caused much trouble to English commerce. Her chief exploit occurred on the 20th of September, when she caught the British cruiser Pegasus in Zanzibar harbor undergoing repairs. The Pegasus had no chance, and was destroyed by the Koenigsberg's long-range fire. Nothing much was heard later of the Koenigsberg, which was finally destroyed by an English cruiser, July 11, 1915.
The exploits of these two German commerce raiders attracted general attention, because they were the exceptions to the rule. The British, on the other hand, were able to capture such German merchantmen as ventured on the sea without great difficulty, and as they did not destroy their capture, but brought them before prize courts, the incidents attracted no great attention. The Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse, which had been fitted up as a commerce destroyer by the Germans at the beginning of the war, as was the Spreewald of the Hamburg-American Line, and the Cap Trafalgar, were caught and sunk during the month of September. On the whole, English foreign trade was unimpaired.
But though the German fleet had been bottled up in her harbors, Germany was not yet impotent. There remained the submarine.
Up to 1905 Germany had not a single submarine. The first German submarine was launched on August 30, 1905. Even then it was considered merely an experiment. In February, 1907, it was added to the register of the fleet. On January 1, 1901, there were only four nations that possessed submarines, France, with fourteen; the United States, with eight; England, with six, of which not one was completed, and finally Italy, with two. In 1910, Germany appropriated 18,750,000 marks for submarines, and in 1913, 25,000,000 marks. On January 1, 1914, the total number of submarines of all nations was approximately four hundred.
Early in the war the submarine became a grave menace to the English navy and to English commerce. On the 5th of September the Pathfinder, a light cruiser, was torpedoed and sunk with great loss of life. On September 22d, three cruisers, the Cressy, Hogue, and Aboukir were engaged in patrolling the coast of Holland. A great storm had been raging and the cruisers were not protected by the usual screen of destroyers. At half-past six in the morning the seas had fallen and the cruisers proceeded to their posts. The report of Commander Nicholson, of the Cressy, of what followed gives a good idea of the effectiveness of the submarine.
"The Aboukir," says this report, "was struck at about 6.25 A. M. on the starboard beam. The Hogue and Cressy closed, and took up a position, the Hogue ahead of the Aboukir, and the Cressy about four hundred yards on her port beam. As soon as it was seen that the Aboukir was in danger of sinking, all the boats were sent away from the Cressy, and a picket boat was hoisted out without steam up. When cutters full of the Aboukir's men were returning to the Cressy, the Hogue was struck, apparently under the aft 9.2 magazine, as a very heavy explosion took place immediately. Almost directly after the Hogue was hit we observed a periscope on our port bow about three hundred yards off. Fire was immediately opened, and the engines were put full speed ahead with the intention of running her down. . . .
"Captain Johnson then maneuvered the ship so as to render assistance to the crews of the Hogue and Aboukir. About five minutes later another periscope was seen on our starboard quarter, and fire was opened. The track of the torpedo she fired at a range of from 500 to 600 yards was plainly visible, and it struck us on the starboard side just before the after bridge. The ship listed about ten degrees to the starboard and remained steady. The time was 7.15 A. M. All the water-tight doors, dead lights and scuttles had been securely closed before the torpedoes left the ship. All mess stools and table shores and all available timber below and on deck had been previously got up and thrown overside for the saving of life. A second torpedo fired by the same submarine missed and passed about ten feet astern.
"About a quarter of an hour after the first torpedo had hit, a third torpedo fired from the submarine just before the starboard beam, hit us under the No. 5 boiler room. The time was 7.30 A. M. The ship then began to heel rapidly, and finally turned keel up remaining so for about twenty minutes before she finally sank. It is possible that the same submarine fired all three torpedoes at the Cressy."
Of the total crews of 1,459 officers and men only 779 were saved. The survivors believed that they had seen at least three submarines, but the German official account mentions only one, the U-9, under Captain-Lieutenant Otto Weddigen whose account of this battle confirms the report of Commander Nicholson. Referring to the reports that a flotilla of German submarines had attacked the cruisers, he says:
"These reports were absolutely untrue. U-9 was the only submarine on deck." He adds: "I reached the home port on the afternoon of the 23d and on the 24th went to Wilhelmshaven to find that news of my effort had become public. My wife, dry-eyed when I went away, met me with tears. Then I learned that my little vessel and her brave crew had won the plaudit of the Kaiser who conferred upon each of my co-workers the Iron Cross of the second class and upon me the Iron Crosses of the first and second classes."
Weddigen was the hero of the hour in Germany. He had with him twenty-five men. He seems to have acted with courage and skill, but it is also evident that the English staff work was to blame. Three such vessels should never have been sent out without a screen of destroyers, nor should the Hogue and the Cressy have gone to the rescue of the Aboukir. A few days after the disaster the English Admiralty issued the following statement:
The sinking of the Aboukir was of course an ordinary hazard of patrolling duty. The Hogue and Cressy, however, were sunk because they proceeded to the assistance of their consort, and remained with engines stopped, endeavoring to save life, thus presenting an easy target to further submarine attacks. The natural promptings of humanity have in this case led to heavy losses, which would have been avoided by a strict adhesion to military consideration. Modern naval war is presenting us with so many new and strange situations that an error of judgment of this character is pardonable. But it has become necessary to point out for the future guidance of His Majesty's ships that the conditions which prevail when one vessel of a squadron is injured in the mine field, or is exposed to submarine attack, are analogous to those which occur in action, and that the rule of leaving ships to their own resources is applicable, so far, at any rate, as large vessels are concerned.