by David Wragg
The officer cadets were drawn from the upper echelons of society, from the sons of impoverished nobility (despite the high costs), the sons of industrialists and academics, with almost half the intake being from this category, showing the extent to which academia had swung behind Weltpolitik, and of serving and retired officers. A few members of the lower middle and artisan classes, the Kleine Leute, were permitted to satisfy the social instincts of the politicians, and the odd baptized Jew, although this was the period during which anti-Semitism first reared its ugly head.
For the young cadet and officer, there was no doubt that they were in preparation for der Tag, the major battle with the Royal Navy in the North Sea that would finally establish Germany as the undisputed naval power. It was not only Tirpitz driving this expansion, but the Kaiser as well. Not for the last time, state expenditure on armaments rose alarmingly, well beyond what the nation could afford, and despite substantial rises in taxation, its debt levels rose dramatically. The newly important industrial class, and the traditional landowners, the Junkers, drifted apart. Industrial militancy rode on the back of the massive demands for labour of the armaments industry. The leader of the Social Democrats, August Bebel, was so alarmed at the direction his country was taking that as early as 1910, he started writing in secret to the British Foreign Office, saying: ‘I am convinced we are on the eve of the most dreadful war Europe has ever seen …’
CHAPTER TWO
The Great Naval War
As war loomed, in 1913 the young Karl Dönitz was a midshipman aboard the light cruiser Breslau in the Mediterranean, with the ship acting as the escort for the battlecruiser Goeben. Despite tension already rising in Europe, Breslau was allowed to coal at the main British Mediterranean Fleet base of Malta, on her way to the Balkans to join a British-led international naval squadron imposing a blockade on Montenegro.
While war was widely expected throughout Europe, and indeed many were anxious for a war that would achieve their territorial ambitions, none of the great powers was ready. Russia was dogged with social unrest and unable to meet the economic and materiel demands of war. Germany was bankrupting herself in an arms race, unable to afford both a large standing army and a navy that would rival the Royal Navy. Austria-Hungary was rent by internal divisions, a sprawling empire that included many different nationalities with many them anxious to break free. France was fearful of the consequences of another war with Germany, a factor behind the Entente Cordiale with the United Kingdom. The United Kingdom lacked the army that would be strong enough and well-equipped enough to engage in a continental war – it had not tried to emulate Germany by trying to have both the leading navy and the leading army. For the British, there was another problem, that of Ireland, where pressure for Home Rule was running at a high level.
The Kaiser wanted war, but not this war. As early as 1897, he had anticipated confrontation with the British, but not with the British, French and Russians at the same time. The British were bound to intervene, not only because of their links with France and Russia, but also if Germany was to attack France, the best route for the invading armies was through Belgium, and the United Kingdom was a guarantor of Belgian neutrality. In December 1912, the Chief of the German General Staff, General von Moltke, had called for war as soon as possible, before Russia and France were ready. This had been opposed by Tirpitz, who wanted to wait while the Kiel Canal widening was finished, a U-boat base in Heligoland was completed, and more of his battleships and battlecruisers were ready.
For Germany, there was the absurd situation in which the two service ministries had been preparing for war, with the Army anxious that it should be as soon as possible, while the Foreign Ministry tried to contain the crisis that had erupted in the Balkans. The international naval squadron that had quickly formed to blockade the coast of Montenegro even sent landing parties in summer 1913, so that the Albanian port of Scutari could be freed from the occupying Montenegrin forces. All of this was under the command of Vice-Admiral Sir Cecil Burney, RN.
ASSASSINATION AT SARAJEVO
Germany, without a Mediterranean coastline or territories in or around the Mediterranean, at this time considered it necessary to maintain two major warships in the area. Some time earlier, she had played brinkmanship by maintaining that she had considerable ‘interests’ in Morocco, divided between France and Spain. The Breslau even refitted in Trieste, then Austrian territory, during the first quarter of 1914, before escorting the Hohenzollern, the Kaiser’s yacht, to Corfu for a holiday visit. On her return to Trieste, she was ordered back to the new international naval squadron off the Balkans, and it was while she was lying alongside the British Minotaur-class armoured cruiser, Defence, on 28 June 1914, that news was received of the assassination of the heir to the throne of Austria-Hungary at Sarajevo.
Amidst the recriminations and counter-recriminations that led to first one declaration of war and then another, there were those in Germany working steadily towards a traditional continental war. A growing body of opinion wanted to put Weltpolitik aside for a while to allow Germany to secure her place in Europe, and also to stop the maritime enthusiasts taxing ever more heavily in a desperate bid to fund the growing Kaiserliche Marine. The traditional landowning classes wanted to retain power in the face of a growing Socialist menace, by this time the largest party in the Reichstag, although they retained power in the more influential upper house of Bundestag, while the Kaiser was almost an absolute monarch. In a very real sense, Germany needed a war to remove what it regarded as an external threat for good and establish itself as the leading continental power, and it also needed a war to unite its peoples and turn their energies away from revolution and radical ideas to external expansion and internal discipline.
The pro-war faction wanted a short, violent, Prussian-style war, smashing France so that she remained neither a threat nor a sponsor for the countries to the east of Germany, and then taking Belgium and the Netherlands to establish a satellite territory, a German Mitteleuropa, which would also include northern France, territories to the east and in the Balkans. This would also have the effect of keeping Russia contained. In effect, nothing less than a United States of Europe was planned. The Weltpolitik plan for colonial expansion would follow, aided by the occupation of the French, Belgian and Dutch territories that Germany so envied. Combined, these would provide a rival power base to the British Empire.
Meanwhile, with the great naval race with Great Britain having eased off and relations improved, there were many who hoped that she would remain out of a continental war. After all, did not the Liberal government contain a number of pacifists, and others who favoured social spending over defence? The Kaiser pressed Austria to take harsh measures against the Serbs, and the Austrians sought German support, and were assured that they would get it. Wilhelm II seems to have believed that neither Russia nor France would want to become involved, as neither was ready militarily, and neither could afford a major war. There was also the traditional view of a near-absolute monarch, that other monarchs, in this case the Tsar, would not wish to defend a regicide. This was despite Russia having earlier declared that any attack on Serbia would be a casus belli, and as it turned out, the liberation of the Slav communities within the Austria-Hungarian Empire became a Russian war aim.
The German armed forces were quickly moved to an alert, just short of being put on a full war footing, so as not to alarm or alert the other powers. In the Adriatic, the battlecruiser Groeben, suffering from boiler troubles, was ordered to Pola while workmen were sent from Germany to affect the necessary repairs.
Meanwhile, Serbia rejected an unrealistic ultimatum delivered by Austria, and on 28 July, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia. Over the next twenty-four hours, other nations declared war, with Russia declaring war on Austria-Hungary. The only questions that remained were over the side that would be chosen by Italy, a former member of the Triple Alliance with Germany and Austria-Hungary, and by Turkey, and whether or not Great Britain would join in. Whether
or not she would, on the night of 29/30 July, the Admiralty sent a warning telegram to all ships, and HMS Defence, cast off her lines to Breslau and moved out of torpedo range, before disappearing into the darkness. Prepared for war, the Breslau was the sole operational German ship in the Mediterranean area, although the workmen from Germany aboard the Goeben, assisted by members of the ship’s company, had already replaced 4,000 boiler tubes in just eighteen days. She left the dockyard, the work uncompleted, on 30 July, and the following day, Admiral Souchon, aboard the Goeben, radioed the order for Breslau to go to sea, sailing secretly but calling at Brindisi to organise colliers for a coaling session at sea.
Ideally, Souchon would have liked to take his ships into the Western Mediterranean, wreak havoc amongst the French troop convoys moving men and horses from North Africa to France, and then slip past Gibraltar for commerce raiding in the Atlantic, before heading back to Germany to join the scouting force of the High Seas Fleet. Instead, he took Goeben to Brindisi, where he rejoined Breslau, and was disappointed to find that neither at Brindisi nor at Taranto, would the Italians provide coal, initially claiming that the sea was too rough. Souchon correctly guessed that the Italians were intending to withdraw from the Triple Alliance, although it was not to be until 1915 that the break would finally occur and the country ally herself with Britain and France, the so-called Entente Powers. He moved on to Messina, where he could commandeer coal from German merchantmen. It was at Messina that he learned of Italian neutrality, and was refused coal once again. He requisitioned the German East Africa passenger liner General as a naval auxiliary, and seized the coal aboard other German ships in the harbour, gaining some 2,000 tons.
CHASED ACROSS THE MEDITERRANEAN
Souchon had counted on leading a combined German and Austro-Hungarian fleet to attack the French troop convoys running from North Africa to France, with just the possibility that Italian ships might also have joined. Now it was clear that he would have to operate without Italian support, and worse, the Austro-Hungarian fleet would also not be joining the two German ships. Nevertheless, he took the daring decision to press on with the plan. Leaving Messina on the night of 2/3 August, Souchon despatched Breslau to attack the French North African port of Bone, while he took Goeben to Philippeville, also in present day Algeria, and while on passage, he received the news that Germany was at war with France. From London, the First Lord of the Admiralty made it clear to Admiral Sir Archibald Berkeley Milne, commanding the British Mediterranean Fleet, that his first priority was to safeguard the passage of the French XIX Corps, but if possible he should use the opportunity to engage Goeben. Milne was not to engage superior forces unless he could do so with French support. Indeed, it was also made clear that Milne should husband his resources at the outset, with the promise of reinforcements later. Milne then received a succession of signals, demanding that Goeben be tailed by two battlecruisers, and that a watch be kept on the southern end of the Adriatic.
On 4 August, the battlecruisers Indomitable and Indefatigable, had Goeben in sight, but the damage had already been done. Souchon had arrived with Goeben at Philippeville on 4 August, flying a Russian flag, which was dropped immediately before the battlecruiser opened fire. Just fifteen shells were fired during a ten minute bombardment, blowing up a magazine, damaging the lighthouse and the railway station, but leaving the troopships undamaged. The bombardment was so brief because Souchon was delaying obeying his orders to reverse course and head for Constantinople, where it was hoped that the presence of his two ships would encourage the Turks to move beyond a simple anti-Russian defensive alliance with Germany and declare war.
In the case of war breaking out, the British and French had agreed that the French would have overall control of operations in the Mediterranean, but there were no joint exercises and, even worse, no arrangement was made for communications between the British and French Mediterranean commands. When the French decided to delay the sailing of the troopships from North Africa for a few days because of the danger presented by the German ships, Milne was not told. Despite the bombardment, when the British battlecruisers passed Goeben, steaming in the opposite direction at 10.34 on the morning of 4 August, they could do nothing as Britain and Germany were not yet at war, and could only turn and tail the German ship at a distance of some six miles. Goeben opened up to full speed, and the distance between the pursued and pursuers opened up, for although like Goeben, their hulls were also fouled, they had never been as fast. Despite being joined in the chase by a modern light cruiser, Dublin, by 21.00 the two German ships had given their pursuers the slip. Four hours later, the Mediterranean Fleet heard that it was at war.
On returning to Messina, the now officially neutral Italians finally allowed Souchon twenty-four hours in which to coal, despite war having broken out. After some delay to the Italian colliers, during which more coal was taken from German merchantmen, some 400 German merchant seamen and civilians from these ships were enlisted to speed up the heavy work of coaling in the summer heat. Once again, Souchon had to make do with less coal than he needed as men dropped from exhaustion and a rest had to be ordered before sailing at 17.00 on 6 August so that his men would be ready for battle. He needn’t have worried. The British ships had gone west to act as guardians for the French troopships. A single light cruiser, Gloucester, was sent to keep track of the Germans and report their position, while other ships were guarding the entrance to the Adriatic. Souchon encouraged those aboard Gloucester to believe that he was heading for the Adriatic, but then changed course towards the Aegean.
To the north of the direct route the Germans were taking to their destination lay Rear Admiral Troubridge with his four armoured cruisers, who decided to try to cross their path, hoping that the 9.2-inch guns of his ships would give them some chance before they were pounded to destruction by the Goeben’s superior armament. His ships would have to come within ten miles of the enemy before they had any chance of striking back. Troubridge was dissuaded from taking this action by his flag captain, a gunnery expert, while his orders were in any case to avoid engaging a superior force. Goeben was indeed that, at 23,000 tons with ten 11-inch and twelve 5.9-inch guns, capable of 28 knots, the fastest and most powerful, and most modern, warship in the Mediterranean. Her escort, Breslau, 4,500 tons, had twelve 4.1-in guns and capable of 27 knots, making her also a significant fleet unit. Light cruisers of the day were far smaller than those of the Second World War, and indeed no larger than many modern destroyers and frigates.
The one obstacle to the Germans was the light cruiser Gloucester, and when Breslau was turned back to try to discourage her, the British ship opened fire, and a brief gunnery duel ensued until Goeben herself turned and started to fire. At this point Gloucester, reversed course, having already hit Breslau on the waterline, but without inflicting serious damage. When Goeben resumed her eastward dash, Gloucester resumed the chase until ordered by Milne not to go east of Cape Matapan, at the tip of the Pelopponese. Nevertheless, the voyage eastwards had not been without pain for the Germans, as the work on her boilers cut short by the outbreak of war soon began to tell, with some boiler tubes bursting leaving four men to be scalded to death.
Despite Milne eventually sending a strong force eastwards, Souchon took on coal at Piraeus before entering the Dardanelles and heading for his destination. The Turks were still sufficiently undecided that no one knew how they would react to two German ships arriving. The situation was resolved by the German ambassador suggesting that the ships be ‘sold’ to Turkey, which appealed to the Turks as the Royal Navy had requisitioned two battleships being built in British yards for Turkey. On 16 August, the ships were transferred to Turkey, but complete with their German crews, who even adopted the Turkish fez as headgear. Goeben became the Sultan Selim and Breslau became the Midilli.
The failure to stop the Goeben and the Breslau from reaching Turkey was one of the earliest failings of the Royal Navy, and it was keenly felt. At the end of October 1914, Souchon took his two ships supp
orted by Turkish ships and entered the Black Sea to begin a bombardment of Russian forts
THE NAVAL WAR
Despite the popular belief that it would ‘all be over by Christmas’, it soon became clear that this was to be no short war, at sea or on land, or indeed in the air. The Germans had placed much faith in their ability to use surface raiders against Allied shipping, but the German surface raiders were soon penned up or sunk, and the attack on Allied lines of supply had to be left to the U-boats. This new form of naval warfare soon proved that they were perfectly capable of the task. Annual totals of merchant shipping tonnage in the North Sea and the Atlantic sunk by U-boats rose from a meagre and sustainable 3,369 tons in 1914 to 700,782 tons in 1915, 508,745 tons in 1916, 2,895,983 tons in 1917 and were still at 1,044, 822 in 1918. To these could be added the 350,853 tons lost in the Mediterranean and the 44,520 lost to U-boats based at Constantinople in 1915. Indeed, in 1916, losses in the Mediterranean reached 1,045,058 tons, much higher than the Atlantic figures, while in 1917, the Mediterranean figure was 1,514,501 tons, and it was still slightly more than half this rate in 1918.
In London, Fisher, who would have crippled the German Navy before it had a chance to enter the war, returned to the Admiralty as First Sea Lord in October 1914, but walked out frustrated and angry with the politicians, including the First Lord, Winston Churchill, in mid-May, and spent the rest of the war on the sidelines. His departure more or less coincided with Italy joining the war on the side of the Allies against Austria-Hungary.
That this was a ‘World War’ could not be doubted with the Battles of Coronel and then the Falklands, and fighting in East Africa and in Mesopotamia. In East Africa, two monitors attacked and sank the commerce-raider Konigsberg in the Rufiji River. It was also the start of operations by British submarines in the Sea of Marmara and in the Baltic, while a Turkish cargo ship became the first nautical victim to aeroplane attack in the Dardanelles. It was not only at sea that the Kaiserliche Marine and the Royal Navy clashed, with operations on Lake Tanganyika in late 1915 and early 1916.