The Sea-girt Fortress: A Story of Heligoland

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The Sea-girt Fortress: A Story of Heligoland Page 24

by Percy F. Westerman


  CHAPTER XXIV

  The Battle of the Galloper Sands

  AT 9 a.m. on the same morning as the surprise attack by the German"mosquito craft", two squadrons of the First Home Fleet left theNore. The flag of the Commander-in-chief, Admiral Sir Noel Armitage,was flown on the _Royal Sovereign_, one of the latest type ofsuper-Dreadnoughts, a vessel mounting eight fifteen-inch guns on thecentre line and a secondary armament of sixteen six-inch guns.

  It was Sir Noel's plan to bring the German High Seas fleet to action,and should, as he devoutly hoped, the British be victorious, ageneral attack upon Borkum and Heligoland would follow. It was onaccount of his knowledge of the latter fortress that Sub-LieutenantJohn Hamerton was appointed to the _Royal Sovereign_ as asupernumerary.

  The heavy sea had somewhat subsided, although there was a long rollthat is rarely met with in the North Sea. The wind, too, had droppedconsiderably as the sun rose, but the atmosphere was thick and hazy,so that it was impossible to detect a vessel more than a mile off.

  Although not so bad as a sea-fog, the climatic conditions made allfleet evolutions a kind of exaggerated blindman's buff. The lightcruisers and destroyers, spread out fanwise for several miles aheadof the battleships, could hardly live up to their reputation as the"eyes of the fleet", since it was only by stumbling across one oftheir antagonists that they could detect their presence.

  Under these circumstances Sir Noel wisely decided to remain withineasy distance of the mouth of the Thames. By proceeding far from hisbase it would be possible that the German battleships andbattle-cruisers might slip past unseen and do enormous damage to theEast Coast before he could offer them battle. Every hour meant theshorter distance between him and the Mediterranean Fleet, that,hastily summoned by wireless, was pelting along at twenty-two knotsfrom Gibraltar.

  On the other hand, the Germans were also ignorant of the preciseposition of their antagonists. They would vastly prefer to fight--nowthat the initial operations had failed--within easy distance of themouths of the Elbe and Weser. If the worst came to the worst theycould then pass their battleships through the Kaiser Wilhelm Canalinto the comparative safety of the Baltic, and rely upon theirtorpedo craft, submarines, and mines to keep the enemy at bay. Butfor the present the Germans had no fears on that score. The fightingspirit ran high, and the officers and men of the High Seas Fleetconfidently regarded that "The Day" was at hand when Britisharrogance should receive a fatal blow.

  Once again the German officials' plan went awry. Instead of theBritish giving battle, as they expected, Sir Noel Armitage remainedclose to the Nore. Not only was the Mediterranean Fleet about to joinforces with the Home Fleet, but a powerful United States squadron wason its way from the rendezvous off Cape Hatteras to operate with theBritish in the North Sea. Thus, before the comparatively weak forceunder Sir Noel's command could be crushed, there was a possibility ofan overwhelming predominance of Anglo-American ships appearing inGerman waters.

  Then it was that the German Admiral, Von Walsdorf, decided to take abold and risky step. He detached three armoured cruisers and elevenocean-going destroyers--a force he could ill afford to dispensewith--and sent them via the north of the Orkneys to prey upon theshipping and comparatively unprotected ports on the west coast ofGreat Britain. Once these vessels avoided the British destroyers atScapa Flow there was little risk of capture, while the moral damagethey would be able to inflict would outvie the enormous actual damagedone in a very short space of time.

  Then, finding the British Fleet, as he thought, inactive, VonWalsdorf led his battleships and the remainder of his armouredcruisers towards the mouth of the Thames.

  It was just before noon on the following day that the _RoyalSovereign_ received a wireless from the fast cruiser _Beresford_announcing that she had sighted the German fleet in lat. 52? 1',long. 2? 50' E., steering south-west. The cruiser had, in fact, beenchased and fired upon by two of the enemy's armoured cruisers, butowing to her superior speed she eluded them without sustainingdamage.

  By means of a code-text message the British admiral satisfied himselfthat the _Beresford's_ wireless information was authentic. This wasnecessary, since there was the possibility of the cruiser fallinginto the enemy's hands and a deluding message being sent by hercaptors, purporting to come from the British vessel.

  Majestically the British fleet advanced, steaming in double columns,line ahead, with the "small fry" on either flank. The ships, clearedfor action, looked the very embodiment of latent strength andinvulnerability, the only dash of colour about them being the whiteensigns fluttering proudly in the breeze, the St. George's crosses ofthe various admirals, and the occasional hoist of bunting tocommunicate an order to the various ships.

  Hamerton's post was with Sir Noel Armitage in the conning tower, themost vulnerable of the armoured parts of the ship; vulnerable becauseit is a matter of impossibility for the officer working the ship tobe completely shut in. He must be able to see what is going on, andthe smallest slit in those massive armoured walls will admit awhite-hot sliver of steel from a bursting shell, while the conningtower is the favourite mark for the hostile gunners.

  Until the German fleet actually hove in sight Sir Noel preferred toremain with his staff upon the bridge. It was a magnificent sight tolook astern and see the double line of steel monsters,leaden-coloured themselves, ploughing through the leaden-colouredwater, each vessel following with mathematical precision in the wakeof the one next ahead until the rearmost ships were lost in the haze.

  Hardly a word was spoken by the officers on the bridge of theflagship. For his part Hamerton felt a peculiar indescribablesensation that caused a dryness of the lips and tongue. It was notfear; it was a kind of conjecture, trying to bring himself to realizethat he was going into action for the first time of his life, toparticipate in the greatest naval battle that the world had yet seen.

  Every now and again a messenger would come running up the bridgeladder with a "wireless" report. The admiral and the captain, andperhaps the flag-lieutenant would converse in low tones, generallyending in an expressive shrug of the shoulders. Wireless messagesreporting the near approach of the German battleships were arrivingwith monotonous frequency.

  Suddenly a dull roar came from the invisible haze away to theeastward. The protected cruisers and destroyers on the flank of theapproaching fleet were hotly engaged.

  Giving a final glance at the vessels astern Sir Noel entered theconning tower, followed by the captain, flag-lieutenant, Hamerton,and a midshipman. Already the limited space was occupied by a yeomanof signals and a quartermaster, while at the head of the steel ladderinside the armoured pipe that communicated with the engine-roomtelegraph and steering-wheel compartment beneath the armoured deckappeared the head and shoulders of another yeoman of signals, whoseduty it was to transmit orders should the electrical gear be thrownout of order.

  Hamerton could see nothing. The admiral had taken up his stand at theslit commanding a view ahead, the captain and the flag-lieutenant hadalso appropriated a similar means of outlook. Hamerton and themidshipman were perforce compelled to stand inactive, not knowingwhat was going on, since no word was spoken by the officers on thelook-out.

  Presently the Sub saw by the indicator, and also felt, that theflagship was turning to port, an example that was followed by everyship on both sides. The leading vessels of the German fleet had beensighted, and the alteration in course was to enable the wholebroadsides of fifteen-inch guns to be brought to bear upon the enemy.

  Then with a roar and a concussion that shook the ship the big gunswere discharged. Almost immediately came a deafening crash overhead.The _Royal Sovereign_ had received her baptism of fire. A huge shellfrom the German flagship had struck the roof of the superimposedturret, glanced up, and utterly demolished the bridge. A waft ofacrid-smelling smoke drifted into the conning tower, making theoccupants cough and splutter like men subject to asthma.

  After that the firing became general, each heavy gun being dischargedas fast as the automatic rammer could
thrust home the giantprojectiles and the breechblocks could be closed. Between thedeafening roars of the fifteen-inch guns came the quicker, thoughhardly less ear-splitting reports of the secondary armament--thesix-inch guns in various armoured casements on the main deck andother parts of the ship.

  All the while came the titanic sledge-hammer blows of the enemy'sshells, accompanied by the rending of steel, the crash of fallingmasses of metal, and--far too frequently--the shrieks of men torn bythe fragments of bursting projectiles in spite of the best protectionthat human ingenuity could provide.

  Hamerton felt perfectly calm and collected now. The first blow hadbanished the burning sensation in his throat, although, did he butknow it, his face was streaming with perspiration and streaked withdust from the exploded cordite charges.

  Both fleets were now on parallel courses, hammering at each other atless than a mile apart. It is all very well to assert that the modernnaval battle will be decided at eight to ten thousand yards range:the atmospheric conditions have to be taken into account, and thisbattle off Galloper Sands was fought in a haze that is more frequentthan otherwise in the North Sea.

  All order was now at an end. It was impossible for the ships to keeptheir stations. Already some were sinking, and others forced to haulout of line owing to serious damage; while there was hardly one ofthe vessels, which a bare quarter of an hour before were as taut andtrim as a naval officer could desire, that looked little better thana mass of floating scrap iron. Almost everything that could be shotaway had disappeared before the terrible force of the heavy shells,till it seemed a wonder that a single ship could remain afloat.

  Of all this Hamerton saw nothing. He was waiting. It was his duty towait till ordered to do something.

  Presently the admiral wheeled abruptly.

  "See what is wrong with the for'ard starboard six-inch," he saidabruptly. The voice tube and electric wires communicating with thatparticular casemate were long out of action.

  Hamerton saluted, and promptly descended the ladder to the deckbeneath the waterline. Half a dozen anxious pairs of eyes asked mutequestions. The Sub could only shake his head; he knew nothing.

  Along a passage beneath the protected steel deck he made his way.Below, the ship appeared in normal condition. Everything below thewaterline was practically intact, except that the concussion hadbroken every electric lamp in the ship, broken glass littering everysquare foot of space.

  It was only by means of this passage and one more that direct meansof communication could be maintained from one end of the ship to theother. The _Royal Sovereign_ was built with three longitudinalbulkheads, extending from the keel plates to the upper deck, andcompletely separating the port engine-room from the starboard. Inaddition there were numerous transverse bulkheads, in which allwatertight doors had been closed at the beginning of the action.Every man on board, save a very few, was encased in a steel box thatmight prove his tomb.

  At the head of the ladder communicating with the main deck Hamertoncrept under the flexible-steel splinter net. He was now well abovewaterline, and in a part of the ship only protected by fairly thinside armour. The space 'tween decks was filled with a pungent,yellowish vapour, pierced here and there by shafts of light thatentered by means of huge jagged holes in the ship's side. The deckresembled an ironfounder's store, pieces of bent, twisted, andshattered steel lying in all directions and positions.

  Something prompted the Sub to bend his back and run as hard as hecould to the door of the casemate. Afterwards he wondered why he did,for had a shell entered and burst just as he was making his way alongthat part of the deck, stooping down would not have made anydifference.

  Seizing the gunmetal catch of the armoured door the Sub strove toturn it. Then he became aware that the metal was hot. He placed hishand against the steel door; there the heat was unbearable. Pickingup a piece of iron bar Hamerton inserted it in the handle, and by apowerful lever-like motion succeeded in turning the catch. The doorflew open, and the Sub leapt backwards, nearly overcome by a blast ofhot and fetid air.

  One glance was sufficient. A small shell had entered the casemate bythe gap between the chase of the gun and the shield, and hadexploded, killing every man of the crew of the six-inch. There was noescape. Those who were not slain by the direct explosion were killedby the fragments of metal ricochetting from the steel walls. Theplace was nothing less than a charnel house.

  Then it was that the Sub knew why the admiral had sent him toinvestigate, for amongst the slain was Sir Noel's youngest son, amidshipman fresh from his two years' course on a training cruiser.

  Putting his hand over his eyes as he vainly tried to shut out themental vision of the annihilated gun's crew, Hamerton reeled away.Just as he gained the foot of the ladder to the conning tower atremendous concussion, greater even than the impact of the hugeshells, shook the ship. It seemed as if the twenty-five thousand tonsof deadweight was lifted vertically for quite a foot.

  The Sub exchanged glances with the lieutenant standing by thesubmerged steering wheel.

  "Torpedoed," exclaimed the officer laconically. Up the fifty feet ofvertical ladder Hamerton hastened. At the top he paused abruptly. Theconning tower was filled with dense smoke. The admiral lay proppedagainst the armoured walls with his forehead cut from temple totemple by a sliver of steel. The flag-lieutenant was down, slain by afragment of the same shell that had killed his chief, while thecaptain, pale as a sheet, was supporting himself by thepartly-shattered binnacle. Only the two petty officers remainedunwounded, though completely dazed by the concussion.

  "Glad you've come," said the captain weakly. "Pass the word for thecommander. We must haul out of line. Tell him to take what steps hethinks----"

  The captain's words trailed off into an unmeaning sentence, his headdropped on his chest, and he sank unconscious beside the body of theill-fated admiral.

  By the time the commander reached the conning tower the _RoyalSovereign_ had automatically dropped out of station. A torpedo, firedby a badly shattered German warship, the _Pommern_, had struck her afew feet forward of the sternpost, shattering both rudders and thetwo starboard propellers. A few feet farther forward and nothingcould have saved her from total destruction, for the powerfulSchwartz-Kopff would have blown a hole large enough for a carriage topass completely through her double skin. As it was, the after flatswere completely flooded, and the flagship was deeply down by thestern.

  At this juncture the engines were stopped, and screened from theenemy's fire by the _Repulse_, that gallantly intervened, the _RoyalSovereign_ lost way when about two miles to the west of the firstdivision of the British fleet.

  Already the battle was decided. Superior numbers and gunnery won theday in spite of the frequent use of torpedoes by the Germans. Severalof the British ships had, indeed, narrow escapes from these sinisterand powerful weapons, for the range was an ideal one. Only thefurious and accurate gunnery of the British ships and the speed ofthe two opposing fleets prevented the torpedoes from doing greaterdamage, for it was afterwards ascertained that in almost every casethe concussion of the heavy shells destroyed all communicationbetween the conning towers and the submerged torpedo-rooms of thevarious German ships.

  Now, for the first time since the commencement of the action,Hamerton was able to see what was going on without. Thank God! Allaround were British and German ships flying the good old WhiteEnsign--ships no longer, but merely battered and shattered masses ofsteel. Away in the haze firing was still being maintained in adesultory manner, but of the issue of the conflict there could be nodoubt.

  Suddenly an exclamation from a marine officer attracted Hamerton'sattention. Following the direction of the officer's outstretched handthe Sub looked. At less than half a mile off lay the _Orion_. She wasrolling sluggishly, owing to the immense weight and height above thewaterline of her ten 13.5-inch guns. Although every unarmoured partof her above the side plating was either shot away or riddled, therolling revealed the fact that below the waterline she waspractically intact.

/>   She was settling down on an even keel. The survivors of her crew werevainly attempting to check the inrush of water by means of collisionmats, while those of her pumps which were still in a fit conditionfor use were engaged in throwing out large streams of water.

  Then, even as Hamerton looked, the _Orion_ ceased to recover herself.Her gigantic bulk turned slowly over to starboard till she capsizedcompletely, and floated with her keel only a few feet above thewater.

  Those of her crew who were on deck were able for the most part tojump overboard. In some cases men ran up the side and gained atemporary refuge on the flat-sectioned bilges, while, seeing what hadoccurred, several destroyers hastened to the rescue.

  Not a boat was to be found on any of the battleships and cruisers,save a few canvas collapsibles stowed under the armoured decks beforethe action began. Everything of a buoyant nature that was in dangerof taking fire had either been left at the home dockyards orruthlessly thrown overboard. In a modern battleship cleared foraction there is no use for life-saving apparatus, however desirableit may be after the conflict is over.

  Many of the swimmers of the _Orion's_ crew were rescued by thedestroyers, but before those clinging to the capsized battleshipcould be rescued, the compressed air within the hull burst throughthe comparatively thin steel plating with a roar like the explosionof a magazine. Amid a smother of foam the luckless vessel plunged tothe bed of the North Sea.

  This disaster was merely a repetition of the experiments made on theold _Empress of India_ in 1913. In both cases the vessel waspractically undamaged beneath the armoured deck, while the water wasfreely admitted above that particular deck. The result was that thestability of the vessel was completely disturbed, and the battleshipcapsized.

  All around the sorely-stricken _Royal Sovereign_ were equallybadly-mauled vessels making temporary repairs. The captured Germanwarships, numbering nine, had to be taken possession of by menswimming from the nearest British battleship. This done, Sir GeorgeMaynebrace, who had taken supreme command upon the death of AdmiralSir Noel Armitage, ordered those vessels that were no longerseaworthy to be destroyed, while the others were either taken in towor proceeded under their own steam for the mouth of the Thames.

  It was a matter of impossibility for the British admiral to follow uphis advantage. So badly knocked about were the British battleshipsthat they would be unable to attack the German fortified bases in theNorth Sea. All that could be done was to wait for the MediterraneanFleet, mobilize the battleships in reserve, and join forces with theAmerican squadron. Although the supremacy of the sea was decided, ahard task still remained ere the fierce and sanguinary struggle couldbe brought to an end.

 

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