Part 1 (1/2)

The Harwich Naval Forces.

by E. F. Knight.

PREFACE

Recent visits that were made to Harwich for the purpose of writing a series of articles on the Harwich Naval Forces for the _Morning Post_ suggested to me the amplification of these articles and their reproduction in the form of a little book. This does not profess to be anything more than a summary of the gallant doings of the Harwich Forces in the course of the war. The full history, no doubt, will be written some day. But this, I hope, may serve as a record that will enable many to realise better what Britain owes to the Navy, and what a great work was done by the light cruisers, destroyers, submarines, and auxiliary vessels that had Harwich as their base throughout the war.

For the purposes of this book I have referred to no official records.

Conversations with those who were eye-witnesses of and partic.i.p.ators in the events that I have here described have served as my sole source of information.

My thanks are due to the naval officers who so readily a.s.sisted me in my quest while I was in Harwich, and to the _Morning Post_ for the kind permission which I have received to publish in book form my articles that appeared in that paper.

E.F.K.

_Part I_

THE HARWICH FORCE

CHAPTER I

THE OPENING OF THE WAR

The light cruisers and destroyers--Harwich in war time--The Harwich Force goes out--The first shots of the naval war--Sinking of the _Konigin Luise_--Loss of the _Amphion_.

He who undertakes to write the history of the Naval Forces which had Harwich as their base during the Great War will have a wonderful story indeed to tell--from the sinking, within a few days of the declaration of war, of the German mine-layer _Konigin Luise_ by a section of the force, down to the day when there steamed into Harwich harbour, under the escort of the Harwich Force, the surrendered submarines of the beaten enemy. To those who manned our s.h.i.+ps during those four terrible years it must all seem now like some strange dream--the weary, watchful patrolling through storm or fog, with no lights showing on sea or sh.o.r.e; the feeling of the way by dead reckoning and lead in dark wintry weather along the enemy's coasts, with an ever-vigilant foe above, below, and on the surface of the sea; the amazing adventures; the risks boldly taken; and ever and anon an action fought with a fierce determination on both sides.

For the Germans fought bravely and skilfully on occasion during the first years of the war. One gathers that it was not until the end that their _moral_ began to weaken. They thought that they could shake the _moral_ of the British Navy by methods of frightfulness, by the cold-blooded murder of the survivors of sinking s.h.i.+ps, and so forth.

But it was their own _moral_ that failed at last. For this parvenu German Navy, good though its s.h.i.+ps and good its personnel, was lacking in one essential--the tradition that inspires our own Navy, the significance of which tradition the German, who knows not chivalry, is incapable of understanding. A Navy with an old and glorious tradition could not have surrendered itself, as did the German Navy, without having come out and made a fight--if hopeless fight--of it, as did the Spanish s.h.i.+ps off Cuba and the Russians at Chemulpo, so saving the honour of their flag.

It is part of the tradition, too, of the British Navy at all cost to stand by a friend in distress. It will be remembered that at the beginning of the war two important s.h.i.+ps were torpedoed while rescuing the crews of sinking consorts, and that this led to the issue of an Admiralty order to the effect that no heavy s.h.i.+ps must risk valuable material by undertaking this dangerous work, which should be left to the light craft. The zeal that comes of an old tradition may need checking at times, but it leads to victory in the end. Had the _Blucher_ belonged to a Navy with a tradition, it is improbable that she would have been deserted, as she was, by the Germans after her disablement.

To any Englishman who, in these days of the armistice, looks across Harwich harbour and the broad estuary of the Stour, that scene, composed of grey wintry sky, grey sea, and grey wars.h.i.+ps at anchor, will remain to him as a stirring memory. For those are the light cruisers and destroyers of the Harwich Force, and there, too, is the Submarine Flotilla--all these have fought in the Great War; some throughout the war; while others have joined the force later to replace s.h.i.+ps that have been lost in action. On board these s.h.i.+ps are still the crews that fought them. No doubt shortly s.h.i.+ps and men will be dispersed. But at present they remain here in readiness, for it is not Peace yet. Higher up the Stour, a token of victory, lie the surrendered German submarines, on account of their dirty condition more plainly visible through the haze than are our own s.h.i.+ps; for the Huns, naturally, before giving them up, wasted no paint on the outside of these craft, and certainly no soap within.

What is known as the Harwich Force, towards the end of 1914, was composed of the light cruisers _Arethusa_, _Fearless_, _Undaunted_, and _Aurora_, and forty destroyers forming two flotillas. The force gradually increased its strength of light cruisers, being joined at various times by the _Penelope_, _Conquest_, _Cleopatra_, _Canterbury_, _Carysfoot_, and others. Commodore Tyrwhitt--now Rear-Admiral Sir Reginald Tyrwhitt--commanded the force from the beginning, his first flags.h.i.+p being the _Arethusa_. He is still in command of the force, with the _Curacoa_ as his flags.h.i.+p.

Various were the duties performed by this light force--the patrolling of the enemy's coasts, keeping the Grand Fleet informed of the enemy's movements, the perpetual hara.s.sing of the enemy, the hunting down of his submarines and mine-layers, the enticing out of his heavy s.h.i.+ps to fall into our traps, the convoying of merchantmen, and so forth.

The work was extremely important and highly dangerous. Throughout the war there was always some portion of the Harwich Force upon the seas, and always a portion of it in harbour under steam, ready to rush out at a moment's notice should the wireless waves give notice of something doing on the North Sea. On one occasion practically the entire Harwich Force got out of harbour within twenty minutes of a call for its a.s.sistance. Even when there was no urgency, no longer than three hours' notice was ever given.

A force so actively engaged as was this one could not fail to suffer many casualties--in all probability heavier casualties in proportion to its numbers than any other naval force. Admiral Lord Jellicoe, on one occasion, in a message of greeting to the force, said: ”Your casualties alone in this war show what your work has been,” or words to that effect. What the total casualties of the force were I do not know; but the narratives that have been communicated to me account for the total loss of over twelve of the destroyers, while the number of others seriously damaged by sh.e.l.l, mines, and torpedoes is still larger.

Harwich, possibly, was nearer to the war and its tragedies than any other port in England. For often, by day or in the quiet night, would be heard the weird signal of the sirens that summoned officers and men on leave on sh.o.r.e to hurry back to their s.h.i.+ps, as something was happening on the North Sea that called for the Harwich Force, or a portion of it, to put to sea at once. This recall signal, say those who heard it in Harwich, had a most impressive effect. Taking the time from the flags.h.i.+p, each cruiser in the harbour sounded both her sirens three times, each blast being of three minutes' duration.

There is an hotel overlooking the water at Dovercourt--one of the few that had not been requisitioned by the authorities--that was a well-known rendezvous of officers during the war. Situated about half way between Harwich pier and Parkeston quay--whither men had to go to join their s.h.i.+ps--and about a quarter of an hour's walk from either place, it was recognised as being a convenient place of call for naval officers who were on sh.o.r.e for a few hours in those days of sudden summons. It had been arranged, too, that the hotel telephone should always supplement the message of the siren. At this hotel--and, by the way, what a scene was here when the armistice was announced!--there were always staying numbers of the relatives and friends of the naval officers. There was often a gay a.s.semblage here. It was the gaiety of brave men at the prospect of danger, and of women who concealed their anxiety for the sake of their men. On one occasion, when the loud siren's call, dreaded of women, came, a concert for the benefit of some naval or military fund was just opening in the great hall belonging to the hotel, and the wives and other ladies related to the naval officers were selling the programmes. There was no time for farewells; the officers left the hall and hurried down the unlit, narrow streets of the old town to the quays as fast as they were able. But the concert was not interrupted, and, a.s.suming a brave face, the ladies continued to sell the programmes. As on other occasions, of the men who left the hall that night there were some who did not come back.

There are many who were in Harwich during the war who can now read Byron's stanzas describing the scene at Brussels on the eve of Waterloo with an understanding mind. This war has shown that the spirit of the Elizabethan and Nelson days is still with us. One wonders how the people of ages hence, when, from a long way off, they look back at these ”_old, unhappy, far-off things and battles long ago_,” will think and write of the men and women of this day.