Action of August 28 in the Heligoland Bight—Fate of the German Light Cruisers—Paralysis of German Naval Enterprise—The Ostend Demonstration—The Royal Naval Air Service—The Air Situation at the Outbreak of War—The Admiralty take Charge at Home—The Zeppelin Menace and the ‘Hornets’—Offence the true Defence—Beginning of the Dunkirk Guerrilla—Samson’s Aeroplanes—The Armoured Cars—First dawn of the Tank idea—General Joffre’s request—The Omnibus Brigade—An Embarrassing Responsibility—The Sinking of the Aboukir, Hogue and Cressy.

I now have to chronicle a brilliant episode which came at a most timely moment and throughout which we enjoyed the best of good luck. My insistent desire to develop a minor offensive against the Germans in the Heligoland Bight led to conferences with Commodore Tyrwhitt, who commanded the light cruisers and destroyers of ‘The Harwich Striking Force,’ and Commodore Keyes, the head of the Submarine Service also stationed at Harwich. On August 23 Commodore Keyes called personally upon me at the Admiralty with a proposal for ‘a well-organised drive commencing before dawn from inshore close to the enemy’s coast.’ On the 24th I presided at a meeting in my room between him and Commodore Tyrwhitt and the First Sea Lord and the Chief of the Staff.

The plan which the two Commodores then outlined was at once simple and daring. Since the first hours of the war our submarines had prowled about in the Heligoland Bight. They had now accumulated during a period of three weeks accurate information about the dispositions of the enemy. They knew that he was in the habit of keeping a flotilla of destroyers attended by a couple of small cruisers, cruising and patrolling each night to the North of Heligoland, and that these were accustomed to be relieved shortly after daylight by a second flotilla which worked on a much less extended beat. They proposed to take two flotillas of our best destroyers and two light cruisers from Harwich by night and reach just before dawn a point inside the Northern Coast of the Heligoland Bight not far from the island of Sylt. From this point they would make a left-handed scoop inshore, falling upon and chasing back the outcoming flotilla if they met it, and then would all turn together in a long line abreast Westward towards home to meet and if possible destroy the incoming German flotilla. Six British submarines in two divisions would take part in the operation so as to attack the German heavy ships should they come out, and two battle-cruisers (the Invincible and New Zealand) then stationed at the Humber would act as support.

Such was in short the plan proposed by these officers and approved by the First Sea Lord. Action was fixed for the 28th. As soon as Sir John Jellicoe was informed of these intentions, he offered to send in further support three battle-cruisers and six light cruisers. He did more. He sent Sir David Beatty. The result was a success which far exceeded the hopes of the Admiralty, and produced results of a far-reaching character upon the whole of the naval war.

At dawn on the 28th, Admiral Tyrwhitt’s flotillas, led by the Arethusa and Fearless, reached their point of attack and, in the words of Admiral Scheer, ‘broke into the Heligoland Bight.’ The enemy was taken by surprise. The weather near the land was increasingly misty. The Heligoland batteries came into action, but without effect. The German battleships and battle-cruisers could not cross the bar of the outer Jade owing to the tide till 1 p.m. Only the German light cruisers on patrol or close at hand in the Elbe or the Ems could come to the aid of their flotillas. A confused, dispersed and prolonged series of combats ensued between the flotillas and light cruisers and continued until after four o’clock in the afternoon. During all this time the British light forces were rampaging about the enemy’s most intimate and jealously guarded waters.

Very little, however, turned out as had been planned. Owing to a mischance, arising primarily from a fault in Admiralty staff work, the message apprising Commodores Keyes and Tyrwhitt of the presence of Admiral Beatty with his additional battle cruisers and light cruisers, did not reach them in time; nor was Admiral Beatty aware of the areas in which the British submarines were working. Several awkward embarrassments followed from this and might easily have led to disastrous mistakes. However, fortune was steady, and the initial surprise together with the resolute offensive carried us safely through. The German light cruisers precipitately proceeding to the assistance of their flotillas and animated by the hopes of cutting off our own, ran into the British battle-cruisers. Admiral Beatty, in spite not only of the risk of mines and submarines, but also—for all he could know—of meeting superior forces, had with extraordinary audacity led his squadron far into the Bight. Two enemy cruisers (the Ariadne and the Köln) were smashed to pieces by the enormous shells of the Lion and the Princess Royal: a third (the Mainz) was sunk by the light cruisers and destroyers. Three others (the Frauenlob, Strassburg and the Stettin) limped home with many casualties. One German destroyer was sunk. The rest in the confusion and light mist escaped, though several were injured.

The good news trickled into the Admiralty during the day, but for some time we were very anxious about the Arethusa. A feed-pipe had been smashed by a shell and her steaming power was reduced to seven or eight knots. However, she returned unmolested to the Thames.

Not a single British ship was sunk or, indeed, seriously injured; and our casualties did not exceed thirty-five killed and about forty wounded, in spite of the fact that, in the words of the German Lieutenant Tholens, ‘The English ships made the greatest efforts to pick up the survivors.’^[59] Two hundred and twenty-four Germans, many desperately wounded, were rescued in circumstances of much danger by Commodore Keyes on the destroyer Lurcher, and brought to England. Considerably more than a thousand Germans, including the Flotilla Admiral and the Destroyer Commodore, perished. A son of Admiral von Tirpitz was among the prisoners. Much more important, however, than these material gains was the effect produced upon the morale of the enemy. The Germans knew nothing of our defective Staff work and of the risks we had run. All they saw was that the British did not hesitate to hazard their greatest vessels as well as their light craft in the most daring offensive action and had escaped apparently unscathed. They felt as we should have felt had German destroyers broken into the Solent and their battle-cruisers penetrated as far as the Nab. The results of this action were far-reaching. Henceforward the weight of British naval prestige lay heavy across all German sea enterprise. Upon the Emperor the impression produced was decisive. Thus Scheer (p. 57): ‘The restrictions imposed on the Battle Fleet were adhered to.’ And still more explicit, von Tirpitz (p. 357): ‘... August 28th, a day fateful, both in its after effects and incidental results, for the work of our navy.... The Emperor did not want losses of this sort.... Orders were issued by the Emperor ... after an audience to Pohl, to which I as usual was not summoned, to restrict the initiative of the Commander-in-Chief of the North Sea Fleet: the loss of ships was to be avoided, fleet sallies and any greater undertakings must be approved by His Majesty in advance,’ etc. On von Tirpitz protesting against ‘this muzzling policy’ ... ‘there sprang up from that day forth an estrangement between the Emperor and myself, which steadily increased.’

The German Navy was indeed ‘muzzled.’ Except for furtive movements by individual submarines and minelayers not a dog stirred from August till November. Meanwhile our strength, both offensive afloat and defensive in our harbours, was steadily and rapidly increasing.

The news of this naval action reached the French and British armies in the dark hour before the dawn of victory and was everywhere published to the retreating troops.^[60]

As the German armies pressed forward towards Paris they turned the back of their right shoulder increasingly towards the sea. The Belgian Army making a sortie from Antwerp struck towards the German lines of communication and endeavoured to hamper and delay the great advance. In order to help the Belgians and to take some pressure off our own hard-pressed Army, the Admiralty, in consultation with Lord Kitchener, attempted to make a diversion. A brigade of Marines was disembarked, covered by warships (Aug. 26), at Ostend in the hopes that it would attract the attention of the enemy and give him the impression that larger forces would follow from the sea.

‘In order to delay southward German advance and to create diversion favourable to the forward movement of the Belgian Army, Admiralty wish to send a brigade of Marines, 3,000 strong, to Ostend at daylight, 26th, covered by battleships and cruisers accompanied by an aeroplane squadron. This brigade will push out reconnaissances to Bruges, Thourout, and Dixmude, and will remain at Ostend to cover the disembarkation of a larger force should circumstances render that desirable. Do you agree? If so, please send the necessary instructions to your local authorities. Publicity is useful in this case. The impression to be produced is that a considerable British army is landing.’

‘1. At daylight to-morrow, if circumstances allow, you will disembark such portions of your brigade as have arrived at Ostend and occupy the town. You will push out reconnaissances of cyclists to Bruges, Thourout, and Dixmude. You will establish yourself at Ostend, forming an entrenched picket line around the town in such a way as to enable you to cover the debarkation of a Division of the Army. A squadron of aeroplanes will reach you before noon, having previously made an aerial reconnaissance of the country within 30 miles of Ostend. The aeroplanes will be placed under your orders.

‘2. The object of this movement is to create a diversion, favourable to the Belgians, who are advancing from Antwerp and to threaten the western flank of the German southward advance. It should therefore be ostentatious. You should not advance inland from Ostend without further orders, but some enterprise may be permitted to the patrols. Information about the enemy will be supplied you personally at the Admiralty.

‘The object in view would be fully attained if a considerable force of the enemy were attracted to the coast. You will be re-embarked as soon as this is accomplished.’

To give further publicity I announced in the House of Commons that a British force had begun landing at Ostend. The Marines remained on shore for the best part of a week and were then withdrawn. The old battleships and cruisers which covered them were no doubt in more danger from submarines than we thought at the time, but no mishap occurred; nor was there any loss ashore or afloat. There was no means at the time of knowing whether this petty operation exercised any appreciable influence on German movements. We now know that it was certainly a factor. The Head of the Operations Branch of the German General Staff in his narrative shows that the news of this landing reached Main Headquarters on August 30. He says:—

‘One day countless British troops were said to have landed at Ostend and to be marching on Antwerp; on another that there were about to be great sorties from Antwerp. Even landings of Russian troops, 80,000 men, at Ostend were mentioned. At Ostend a great entrenched camp for the English was in preparation.’

General Dupont, the French Director of Military Intelligence, goes much further and ranks the Belgian sortie as a culminating element in the German decision to make a general retreat, taken on September 10.^[61]

An unbroken chain of events drew the Admiralty again to the Belgian Coast; and to explain this a digression is necessary.

Before the war the British air force was divided into the Royal Flying Corps and the Royal Naval Air Service, the former of which were to be concerned with aeroplanes and the latter with hydro-aeroplanes, or seaplanes as I christened them for short. The War Office claimed on behalf of the Royal Flying Corps complete and sole responsibility for the aerial defence of Great Britain. But owing to the difficulties of getting money, they were unable to make any provision for this responsibility, every aeroplane they had being earmarked for the Expeditionary Force. Seeing this and finding myself able to procure funds by various shifts and devices, I began in 1912 and 1913, to form under the Royal Naval Air Service flights of aeroplanes as well as of seaplanes for the aerial protection of our naval harbours, oil tanks and vulnerable points, and also for a general strengthening of our exiguous and inadequate aviation. In consequence I had in my own hand on the eve of the war fifty efficient naval machines, or about one-third of the number in possession of the Army. The War Office viewed this development with disfavour, and claimed that they alone should be charged with the responsibility for home defence. When asked how they proposed to discharge this duty, they admitted sorrowfully that they had not got the machines and could not get the money. They adhered however to the principle.

When the war began the situation foreseen arose. The whole of the military aeroplanes went to France at once with the Expeditionary Force, and not a single squadron or even an effective machine remained to guard British vulnerable points from German aerial attack. The Admiralty was, however, found provided with a respectable force of its own which immediately took over the protection of our dockyards and patrolled our shores in connection with the coast watch.

As the Germans overran Belgium and all the Channel ports were exposed, the danger of air attacks upon Great Britain became most serious and real. Zeppelins had already cruised over Antwerp, and it was known that London was in range of the Zeppelin sheds at Düsseldorf and Cologne. To meet this danger there was nothing except the naval aeroplanes the Admiralty had been able to scrape and smuggle together. On September 3 Lord Kitchener asked me in Cabinet whether I would accept, on behalf of the Admiralty, the responsibility for the aerial defence of Great Britain, as the War Office had no means of discharging it. I thereupon undertook to do what was possible with the wholly inadequate resources which were available. There were neither anti-aircraft guns nor searchlights, and though a few improvisations had been made, nearly a year must elapse before the efficient supplies necessary could be forthcoming. Meanwhile at any moment half a dozen Zeppelins might arrive to bomb London or, what was more serious, Chatham, Woolwich or Portsmouth.

I rated the Zeppelin much lower as a weapon of war than almost any one else. I believed that this enormous bladder of combustible and explosive gas would prove to be easily destructible. I was sure the fighting aeroplane, rising lightly laden from its own base, armed with incendiary bullets, would harry, rout and burn these gaseous monsters. I had proclaimed this opinion to the House of Commons in 1913, using the often-quoted simile of the hornets.

I therefore did everything in my power in the years before the war to restrict expenditure upon airships and to concentrate our narrow and stinted resources upon aeroplanes. I confined the naval construction of airships to purely experimental limits, and in April, 1915, when the slow progress and inferior quality of our only rigid experimental airship were manifest, I gave orders that it should be scrapped, the plant broken up and the labour and material devoted to increasing the output of aeroplanes. Had I had my way, no airships would have been built by Great Britain during the war (except the little ‘Blimps’ for teasing submarines). After I left the Admiralty this policy was reversed, and forty millions of money were squandered by successive Boards in building British Zeppelins, not one of which on any occasion ever rendered any effective fighting service. Meanwhile the alternative policy of equipping the Fleet with aerial observation by flying aeroplanes off warships or off properly constructed carriers lagged pitifully with the result that at the Battle of Jutland we had no British airships and only one aeroplane in the air.

The hornet theory, at one time so fiercely derided, was, of course, ultimately vindicated by the war. Zeppelins were clawed down in flames from the sky over both land and sea by aeroplanes until they did not dare to come any more. The aeroplane was the means by which the Zeppelin menace was destroyed, and it was virtually the only means, apart from weather and their own weakness, by which Zeppelins were ever destroyed.

However, although my thought was perfectly sound in principle and the policy following from it was unquestionably right, we were not in a position at the beginning of the war to produce effective results. Aeroplane engines were not powerful enough to reach the great heights needed for the attack of Zeppelins in the short time available. Night flying had only just been born; the location of aircraft by sound was unknown; the network of telephones and observation points was non-existent. And here was the danger, certainly real and not easy to measure, literally on top of us.

It was easy to order the necessary guns, searchlights, etc., and set on foot the organisation which should produce and employ them. But it was no use sitting down and waiting for a year while these preparations were completing. Only offensive action could help us. I decided immediately to strike, by bombing from aeroplanes, at the Zeppelin sheds wherever these gigantic structures could be found in Germany and secondly, to prevent the erection of any new Zeppelin sheds in the conquered parts of Belgium or France. Here again the policy was right. Our resources were, however, feeble and slender. Compared to the terrific developments at the end of the war, they were pitiful. Still, they were all we had, and all that our knowledge of aviation at that time could bestow. Deficiencies in material had to be made good by daring. All honour to the naval airmen, the pioneers of the aerial offensive, who planned and executed in these early months the desperate flights over hostile territory in an element then scarcely known, which resulted in the raids on Düsseldorf and Cologne on the Rhine, Friedrichshaven on Lake Constance, and Cuxhaven in the Heligoland Bight. Altogether in the first twelve months of the war six Zeppelins were destroyed in the air or in their sheds by the offensive action of a handful of British naval airmen; and few were destroyed by any other agency except accident.

In order to strike at the Zeppelin sheds in Germany and to prevent the erection of new ones in Belgium, it was necessary to start from as near the enemy’s line as possible. Extracts from my own minutes, principally to Captain Sueter, the enterprising and energetic Director of the Air Division, give as good an account as any other.

The largest possible force of naval aeroplanes should be stationed in Calais or Dunkirk. Reports have been received, and it is also extremely probable, that the Germans will attempt to attack London and other places by Zeppelin airships, of which it is said a considerable number exist. The close proximity of the French coast to England renders such an attack thoroughly feasible. The proper defence is a thorough and continual search of the country for 70 to 100 miles inland with a view to marking down any temporary airship bases, or airships replenishing before starting to attack. Should such airships be located they should be immediately attacked. Commander Samson, with Major Gerrard as second in command, will be entrusted with this duty; and the Director of Air Division will take all steps to supply them with the necessary pilots, aeroplanes and equipment.

Aerial searchlights must immediately be got ready for use in conjunction with the aerial guns. Propose me without delay the quickest means of meeting this need, with estimates of time and money. At least thirty or forty aerial searchlights are required. ‘Vernon’^[62] should co-operate. Drastic and energetic action is required.

2. Let me have a return on one sheet of paper showing all anti-aircraft guns, regular or improvised, available afloat and ashore, at the present time; and what deliveries may be expected in the next two months. Let me have also any suggestions for increasing their number. No one can doubt that aerial attack upon England must be a feature of the near future.

There can be no question of defending London by artillery against aerial attack. It is quite impossible to cover so vast an area; and if London, why not every other city? Defence against aircraft by guns is limited absolutely to points of military value....

Far more important than London are the vulnerable points in the Medway and at Dover and Portsmouth. Oil-tanks, power-houses, lock-gates, magazines, airship sheds, all require to have their aerial guns increased in number. Portsmouth in particular requires attention now that enemy’s territory has come so near.

Aerial searchlights must be provided in connection with every group of guns....

But, after all, the great defence against aerial menace is to attack the enemy’s aircraft as near as possible to their point of departure. Director of Air Division has already received directions on this. The principle is as follows:—

(a) A strong oversea force of aeroplanes to deny the French and Belgian coasts to the enemy’s aircraft, and to attack all Zeppelins and air bases or temporary air bases which it may be sought to establish, and which are in reach.

(b) We must be in constant telegraphic and telephonic communication with the oversea aeroplane squadrons. We must maintain an intercepting force of aeroplanes and airships at some convenient point within range of a line drawn from Dover to London, and local defence flights at Eastchurch and Calshot.

(c) A squadron of aeroplanes will be established at Hendon, also in telephonic communication with the other stations, for the purpose of attacking enemy aircraft which may attempt to molest London. Landing grounds must be prepared in all the parks; railings must be removed, and the area marked out by a large white circle by day and by a good system of lighting at night. It is indispensable that airmen of the Hendon flight should be able to fly by night, and their machines must be fitted with the necessary lights and instruments.

Agreeably with the above, instructions must be prepared for the guidance of the Police, Fire Brigade, and civil population under aerial bombardment. This will have to be sustained with composure. Arrangements must be concerted with the Home Office and the Office of Works for the extinction of lights upon a well-conceived plan, for the clearance and illumination in the parks, in order that the defending aeroplanes can have freedom of action, etc.

The whole of the points dealt with in this minute are to be elaborated and put into precise detail this afternoon by a Committee composed as follows:—

Third Sea Lord (in the Chair).

Director of Air Division.

Director of Naval Ordnance.

And a representative of the War Office from either the Master General of the Ordnance or Home Defence Department.

I expect to receive not later than to-morrow a definite programme for action within the lines of this minute.

The whole matter is of the highest urgency.

In order to discharge adequately the responsibilities which we have assumed for the aerial defence of England, it is necessary that we should maintain an aerial control over the area approximately 100 miles radius from Dunkirk. To do this, we must support the aeroplanes which are stationed on the French coast with sufficient armed motor cars and personnel to enable advanced subsidiary aeroplane bases to be established 30, 40 and 50 miles inland.

According to all accounts received, the Germans, in so far as they have penetrated this region, have done it simply by bluff. Small parties of Uhlans, taking advantage of the terror inspired by their atrocities in Belgium, have made their way freely about the country, and have imposed themselves upon the population. We require, in the first instance, 200 or 300 men with 50 or 60 motor cars, who can support and defend our advanced aerial bases. I should propose to draw these by suitable volunteers from the Marine Brigade. They should be placed under the orders of Commander Samson, and should operate from Dunkirk. It will be necessary first to obtain permission from the French authorities. This, after consultation with Lord Kitchener, I am taking steps to do. We ought to be able to make it quite impossible for parties of 15 or 20 Uhlans to make their way with safety through this area. During the next week the Germans will presume on their immunity, and will be found in occupation of numbers of places where they cannot possibly maintain any effective force. The advantage of an aeroplane reconnaissance is that the approach of any serious body of troops can be discovered while it is still at least two days’ march away. There ought, therefore, to be no difficulty in chopping these small parties of the enemy without our force getting into any trouble.

Propose me plans for immediate action on these lines in detail.

The experiments with regard to projectiles for use against aircraft must be worked out on the most generous scale, eight or ten different lines being pursued simultaneously, the necessary funds being provided. It is perfectly useless in time of war to go through successively the whole series of experiments appropriate to peace-time administration. Let me have a report on the projectiles available. We must have means of attacking Zeppelins, not only with shells from guns, but with incendiary bullets or grenades from aeroplanes.

The needs and activities of the naval aeroplanes in the neighbourhood of Dunkirk led directly to the development of the armoured car, and the armoured car led directly to the birth of the tank, which was in essence only an armoured car capable of crossing trenches. Almost immediately after the German inroad into Belgium, I received accounts of the remarkable work done by a Belgian motor-car, hastily equipped with armour and a machine gun, in shooting down and driving back the numerous Uhlans with which the enemy were seeking to overrun the country. Commander Samson was prompt to realise and seize the advantage of armoured cars for the purpose of protecting his aeroplane operations and also on their own account. In view of the reports received from him and other sources, I gave, during the latter part of August and September, successive orders for the formation of armoured-car squadrons under the Admiralty; and as all this arose out of the aeroplane squadron stationed at Dunkirk, the formation of the armoured-car squadrons was entrusted to Commodore Sueter. In this task this officer displayed great energy, and in a very short time no less than seven or eight squadrons were called into being, based on the purchase of all the Rolls-Royce cars that were available and rapidly improvised armour protection.

The first few cars had scarcely begun to show their advantages in Commander Samson’s guerrilla from Dunkirk when the difficulty which ultimately led to the creation of the tank manifested itself. The German cavalry sought to protect themselves against the attack of the armoured cars by digging trenches across the road.

To meet this, I gave the following directions:—

It is most important that the motor transport and armed motor-cars should be provided to a certain extent with cars carrying the means of bridging small cuts in the road, and an arrangement of planks capable of bridging a ten- or twelve-feet span quickly and easily should be carried with every ten or twelve machines. A proportion of tools should also be supplied.

Let me have proposals at once.^[63]

Other conditions, however, swept down upon us very quickly, and by the middle of October, after the events to be narrated in the next chapters, the trench lines on both sides reached the sea and became continuous over the whole front. Thus at the moment when the new armoured-car force was coming into effective existence at much expense and on a considerable scale, it was confronted with an obstacle and a military situation which rendered its employment practically impossible. The conclusion was forced naturally and obviously upon me, and no doubt upon others, that if the armoured car on which so much money and labour had been spent could not move round the enemy’s trenches and operate against an open flank of his army, some method should be devised which would enable it to traverse and pass over the trenches themselves. This subject will, however, be dealt with in its proper place.

The air was the first cause that took us to Dunkirk. The armoured car was the child of the air; and the tank its grandchild.

But besides all this the undefended condition of the Channel ports against any serious effort by the enemy inspired the Admiralty with lively alarm. The danger of the Germans taking Dunkirk, Calais and Boulogne stared us in the face for many anxious weeks. On September 3 I minuted to the First Sea Lord:—

‘With the Germans along the French coast, modified dispositions will become necessary. The danger from aerial attack must not be underrated. The possibility of the Germans taking very heavy guns to Calais after taking the town, and getting submarines down from the Elbe to operate from Calais as a base, should also be considered. We could of course stop any surface craft, but submarines might slip through secretly and be a great nuisance when once established.

On the 10th September I went to Dunkirk myself and was to some extent reassured. I made the following note at the time for the information of those concerned:—

‘The First Lord visited Dunkirk and Calais on the 10th instant, and conferred with the Governors of both places.

‘Dunkirk is being defended on a considerable scale, and has already developed substantial strength. Lines of defence are constructed on a radius of 4 to 6 miles approximately from the enceinte of the town, which are armed by over 400 pieces of artillery and held by 18,000 men. These works, which are strongly executed, can be further protected by large inundations both of fresh and salt water. The fresh water inundations are now accumulating; the salt can be turned on at any time in two days. The place should certainly require a siege in form to reduce it, and it is getting stronger every week. The First Lord promised the assistance of warships if required to cover the flanks. The anchorage at Dunkirk gives sufficient water for the Majestic class, and is certainly close to the shore. The high sandhills would require the fire to be indirect, but otherwise there would be no difficulty. There is nothing to cause disquietude in the measures taken for the defence of Dunkirk. It seems probable that they are sufficient to make it not worth while for the enemy to undertake the reduction of the fortress.

‘Calais is simply an enceinte rather larger in extent than that of Dunkirk, and protected by a few well-executed outlying fieldworks. All that can be said about Calais is that it could not be taken by a coup de main. It is garrisoned by 7,000 troops, but it could certainly not be counted on to hold out for more than a few days against a determined attack.’

In the third week of September Marshal Joffre telegraphed to Lord Kitchener asking whether a Brigade of Marines could not be sent to Dunkirk to reinforce the garrison and to confuse the enemy with the idea of British as well as French forces being in this area. Lord Kitchener asked me whether the Admiralty would help in this matter. I agreed to send the brigade if he would also send some Yeomanry Cavalry for its local protection. He sent a regiment. I was thus led, though by no means unwillingly, into accepting a series of minor responsibilities of a very direct and personal kind, which made inroads both upon my time and thought and might well—though I claim they did not—have obscured my general view. I formed a small administration to handle the business, in which Colonel Ollivant^[64] was the moving spirit. On his suggestion we took fifty motor omnibuses from the London streets so as to make our Marines as mobile as possible, and very soon we had British detachments ostentatiously displaying themselves in Ypres, Lille, Tournai and Douai. Many risks were run by those engaged in these petty operations, first under General Aston and subsequently when his health had failed, under General Paris. No mishap occurred either to the Marines or to the Yeomanry. They played their part in the general scheme without loss or misadventure. It was, however, with sincere relief that a month later, on the arrival of the leading troops of Sir John French’s Army in the neighbourhood, I transferred these detachments to the Commander-in-Chief, and divested myself of anxieties which though subsidiary were burdensome.

Looking back with after-knowledge and increasing years, I seem to have been too ready to undertake tasks which were hazardous or even forlorn. Taking over responsibility for the air defence of Great Britain when resources were practically non-existent and formidable air attacks imminent was from a personal point of view “some love but little policy.” The same is true of the Dunkirk guerrilla. Still more is it true of the attempt to prolong the defence of Antwerp which will be related in the next chapter. I could with perfect propriety, indeed with unanswerable reasons, have in every one of these cases left the burden to others. I believed, however, that the special knowledge which I possessed, and the great and flexible authority which I wielded in this time of improvisation, would enable me to offer less unsatisfactory solutions of these problems than could be furnished in the emergency by others in less commanding positions. I could at that time give directions over a very large and intricate field of urgent and swiftly changing business which were acted upon immediately by a great variety of authorities who otherwise would have had no common connecting centre. So I acted for the best, with confidence in the loyalty of my colleagues, in the goodwill of the public, and, above all, in my own judgment which I seemed to see confirmed from day to day by many remarkable events.

This chapter, which began with good luck and success, must end, however, with misfortune. The original War Orders had been devised to meet the situation on the outbreak of hostilities. They placed the pieces on the board in what we believed to be the best array, and left their future disposition to be modified by experience. Under these orders the 7th Cruiser Squadron in the Third Fleet, consisting of the old cruisers of the Bacchante class (Bacchante, Euryalus (flagship), Cressy, Aboukir, Hogue), was based on the Nore ‘in order to ensure the presence of armoured ships in the southern approaches of the North Sea and eastern entrance to the Channel, and to support the 1st and 3rd Flotillas operating in that area from Harwich.’ The object of these flotillas was ‘to keep the area south of the 54th parallel clear of enemy torpedo craft and minelayers.’ The Cruiser Force was ‘to support them in the execution of these duties and also, with the flotillas, to keep a close watch over enemy war vessels and transports in order that their movement may be reported at the earliest moment.’

This very necessary patrol had accordingly been maintained day after day without incident of any kind happening, and we had now been six weeks at war. In war all repetitions are perilous. You can do many things with impunity if you do not keep on doing them over and over again.

It was no part of my duty to deal with the routine movements of the Fleet and its squadrons, but only to exercise a general supervision. I kept my eyes and ears open for every indication that would be useful, and I had many and various sources of information. On September 17, during my visit to the Grand Fleet, I heard an expression used by an officer which instantly arrested my attention. He spoke of ‘the live-bait squadron.’ I demanded what was meant, and was told that the expression referred to these old cruisers patrolling the narrow waters in apparently unbroken peace. I thereupon reviewed the whole position in this area. I discussed it with Commodore Tyrwhitt and with Commodore Keyes. The next morning I addressed the following minute to the First Sea Lord:—

The force available for operations in the narrow seas should be capable of minor action without the need of bringing down the Grand Fleet. To this end it should have effective support either by two or three battle cruisers or battleships of the Second Fleet working from Sheerness. This is the most efficiently air and destroyer patrolled anchorage we possess. They can lie behind the boom, and can always be at sea when we intend a raid. Battle cruisers are much to be preferred.

The Bacchantes ought not to continue on this beat. The risk to such ships is not justified by any services they can render. The narrow seas, being the nearest point to the enemy, should be kept by a small number of good modern ships.

The Bacchantes should go to the western entrance of the Channel and set Bethell’s battleships—and later Wemyss’ cruisers—free for convoy and other duties.

The first four Arethusas should join the flotillas of the narrow seas.

I see no sufficient reason to exchange these flotillas now that they know their work with the northern ones.

As the “M” boats are delivered they should be formed into a separate half-flotilla and go north to work with the Grand Fleet.

The King Alfred should pay off and be thoroughly repaired.

Prince Louis immediately agreed and gave directions to the Chief of the Staff to make the necessary redistribution of forces. With this I was content, and I dismissed the matter from my mind, being sure that the orders given would be complied with at the earliest moment. Before they could take effect, disaster occurred.

Pending the introduction of the new system, the Admiralty War Staff carried on with the old. The equinoctial weather was, however, so bad that the destroyer flotillas were ordered back to harbour by the Admiral commanding the Bacchante squadron. That officer, however, proposed to continue his patrol in the Dogger area with the cruisers alone. The Admiralty War Staff acquiesced in the principle of these arrangements but on the 19th instructed him to watch instead the Broad Fourteens:—

‘The Dogger Bank patrol need not be continued. Weather too bad for destroyers to go to sea. Arrange for cruisers to watch Broad Fourteens.’

This routine message did not of course come before me. It was not sent, however, by the War Staff without proper consideration. In the short steep seas which are the features of gales in these narrow waters, a submarine would be at a serious disadvantage and could only observe with extreme difficulty and imperfection. The rough weather which drove in our destroyers was believed to be an important protection against enemy submarines.

Both Admiral and Admiralty, therefore, were in agreement to leave the cruisers at sea without their flotilla. If the weather moderated, it was intended that one of Commodore Tyrwhitt’s flotillas should join them there on the morning of the 20th. The sea, however, continued so high on the 20th that the flotilla, led by the Fearless, had to turn back to Harwich. Thus all through the 19th, 20th and 21st the three cruisers, the Aboukir, Cressy and Hogue, were left to maintain the watch in the narrow waters without a flotilla screen. The Admiral in the Euryalus had to return to harbour on the 20th to coal his ship. He left the squadron in command of the senior captain after enjoining special precautions. There was no more reason to expect that they would be attacked at this time than at any other. On the contrary, rumours of German activity to the northward had brought the whole Grand Fleet out in a southerly sweep down to the line between Flamborough Head and the Horn Reef. Nor was there any connection between the orders to these cruisers and the movement of the Marine Brigade from Dover to Dunkirk which took place on the 20th. The cruisers were simply fulfilling their ordinary task, which from frequent repetition had already become dangerous and for which they were not in any case well suited.

As soon as the weather began to abate on the 21st, Commodore Tyrwhitt started off again for the Broad Fourteens with eight destroyers, and was already well on his way when the morning of the 22nd broke. As the sea subsided, the danger from submarines revived. The three cruisers, however, instead of going to meet their destroyers, steamed slowly northward without zigzagging and at under ten knots, as no doubt they had often done before. Meanwhile a single German submarine, becoming more venturesome every day, was prowling southward down the Dutch coast. At 6.30 a.m., shortly after daylight, the Aboukir was struck by a torpedo. In twenty-five minutes this old vessel capsized. Some of her boats were smashed by the explosion, and hundreds of men were swimming in the water or clinging to wreckage. Both her consorts had hurried with chivalrous simplicity to the aid of the sinking ship. Both came to a dead standstill within a few hundred yards of her and lowered all their boats to rescue the survivors. In this posture they in their turn were both sunk, first the Hogue and then the Cressy, by the same submarine. Out of over 2,000 men on board these three ships, only 800 were saved, and more than 1,400 perished. The ships themselves were of no great value: they were among the oldest cruisers of the Third Fleet and contributed in no appreciable way to our vital margins. But like all Third Fleet ships, they were almost entirely manned with reservists, most of whom were married men; and they carried also young cadets from Osborne posted for safety to ships which it was thought would not be engaged in the great battles. This cruel loss of life, although small compared to what the Army was enduring, constituted the first serious forfeit exacted from the Navy in the war. It greatly stimulated and encouraged the enterprise of the German submarines. The commander of the fatal boat (Lieutenant Weddigen) was exultingly proclaimed as a national hero. Certainly the destruction with his own fingers of fourteen hundred persons was an episode of a peculiar character in human history. But, as it happened, he did not live long to enjoy his sombre fame. A storm of criticism was directed at the Admiralty, and naturally it was focussed on me. ‘Here was an instance of the disaster which followed from the interference of a civilian Minister in naval operations and the overriding of the judgment of skilful and experienced Admirals.’ The writer^[65] of a small but venomous brochure which was industriously circulated in influential circles in London did not hesitate to make this charge in the most direct form,^[66] and it was repeated in countless innuendoes throughout the British Press. I did not, however, think it possible to make any explanation or reply.

I caused the most searching inquiries to be made in the Admiralty into the responsibility for this tragic event. The necessary Court of Inquiry was convened. The Court found that the responsibility for the position of the cruisers on that day was attributable to the Admiralty War Staff telegram of the 19th which has been already quoted. The First Sea Lord held that this was a reflection upon the Admiralty by a subordinate Court; but it seemed to me that the criticism was just and that it should stand. It was, however, by no means exhaustive. One would expect senior officers in command of cruiser squadrons to judge for themselves the danger of their task, and especially of its constant repetition; and while obeying any orders they received, to represent an unsatisfactory situation plainly to the Admiralty instead of going on day after day, and week after week, until superior authority intervened or something lamentable happened. One would expect also that ordinary precautions would be observed in the tactical conduct of squadrons. Moreover, although the impulse which prompted the Hogue and Cressy to go to the rescue of their comrades in the sinking Aboukir was one of generous humanity, they could hardly have done anything more unwise or more likely to add to the loss of life. They should at once have steamed away in opposite directions, lowering boats at the first opportunity.

I remitted all these matters to Lord Fisher when two months later he arrived at the Admiralty; but he laconically replied that ‘most of the officers concerned were on half pay, that they had better remain there, and that no useful purpose would be served by further action.’