The Hunters and the Hunted Page 2
While the British battle cruisers had been unable to keep up, the cruiser Dublin managed to maintain contact until the evening when, in mist and fading light, she lost sight of the Germans off Cape San Vito on the north coast of Sicily. With the threat removed, Souchon sailed into Messina once more and began coaling from the German merchant ships in the harbour. Now that a war situation existed, the Italians, being neutral, insisted that he left with twenty-four hours of his arrival, but even with the assistance of 400 volunteers from the merchantmen, the decks of which had to be ripped open for the sake of speed, only 1,500 tons of coal could be transferred by the evening of 6 August. Even that addition was insufficient to take Goeben and Breslau as far as Constantinople, forcing Souchon to make arrangements for a rendezvous with a collier among the Aegean islands.
At this point the German admiral received two depressing messages from Tirpitz. The first was that as a state of war did not exist between Great Britain and the Austro-Hungarian Empire at that time and in the circumstances the Austrian Navy could not provide assistance for German operations in the Mediterranean. That meant that Souchon could not rely on seeking refuge in the Austrian naval base at Pola in the Adriatic without exposing his ships to the risk of temporary internment being trapped in this backwater for the duration of the war when Austria did declare war, as was fully expected. A second signal informed him that as Turkey was also still neutral, Constantinople was denied to him for identical reasons. However, Souchon had no intention of becoming some sort of Flying Dutchman and decided to head for Constantinople anyway, thereby forcing the Turks, whether they liked it or not, to extend the naval war into the Black Sea, where they could attack the Russians. This was not altogether wishful thinking, but some diplomatic jiggery-pokery would be needed to place his ships beyond the reach of the Royal Navy.
Meanwhile, Milne deployed Inflexible and Indefatigable to close the northern exit from the Straits of Messina, while Indomitable was despatched to coal at Bizerta, on the north-east coast of Tunisia. He was absolutely convinced that Souchon’s plans still centred on attacking the French transports or breaking out into the Atlantic, the result being that his three battle cruisers were so far from the scene of future events that they unable to play any significant role. Elsewhere, the light cruiser Gloucester under Captain Howard Kelly covered the southern exist from the Straits of Messina. The entrance to the Adriatic was patrolled by Rear Admiral Emest Troubridge’s 1st Cruiser Squadron consisting of the armoured cruisers Defence, Black Prince and Duke of Edinburgh, reinforced with the light cruiser Dublin.
In the event, the Italians were kinder to Souchon than they should have been, permitting him to remain in Messina for a total of thirty-six hours. When he left on 6 August he made for the southern exit from the Straits into the Eastern Mediterranean, where he was immediately detected by Gloucester. He then turned north as though he was heading into the Adriatic with Pola as his destination. Gloucester shadowed him and Howard Kelly transmitted a warning to Troubridge that the enemy was heading his way.
Troubridge was firmly convinced that the Germans were heading for Pola. He took his four cruisers north from his current position, off Corfu, in what he believed was an interception course. Howard Kelly suddenly reported that shortly after dark Goeben and Breslau had changed course and were now heading south-east to round Cape Matapan on the south coast of Greece. Troubridge considered this to be a feint and maintained his northerly course until 01.00, when Gloucester reported that the enemy were still on their south-easterly course and that she had exchanged shots with Breslau. Only then did Troubridge, unable to send his destroyers in pursuit because they were low on fuel, reverse his own course in a vain attempt to catch up.
Aboard Defence with Troubridge was his Flag Captain, Fawcett Wray, who had a reputation as being a gunnery expert but whose character somewhat resembled that of Iago in Shakespeare’s Othello. At 02.45 Wray asked Troubridge whether it was his intention to engage Goeben and Breslau. The Admiral replied that it was, then referred to the Admiralty’s instruction not to engage a superior force, commenting that he knew he would be doing wrong, but he was not prepared to destroy to good name of the Mediterranean Fleet by not doing so. This was not the answer Wray wanted to hear. Three-quarters of an hour later he raised the subject again, remarking that he was not looking forward to the prospect of fighting as powerful a ship as the Goeben. Troubridge expressed his agreement, at which Wray pressed his argument: ‘I don’t see what you can do, sir. The Goeben can circle round us within range of her guns but outside ours. It seems likely to be the suicide of your squadron.’
This, of course, was nonsense and was proved to be so in December 1939 when Commodore Henry Harwood, with the cruisers Ajax, Achilles and Exeter, took on and defeated the much stronger German pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spee simply by attacking from different directions and dividing the enemy’s fire.
Troubridge, however, seems to have been convinced and replied: ‘I cannot turn away now; think of my pride.’ Wray knew that he had won his point and his riposte bordered on the insolent: ‘Has your pride anything to do with it, sir? Surely it is your country’s welfare that is at stake.’ In reality, the chances of an engagement were nonexistent as the 1st Cruiser Squadron was now some 70 miles behind the faster Goeben and stood no chance at all of catching her. Troubridge may have sensed this and known that his initial turn to the north had created a situation for which he would be held responsible; he would also have to justify his apparent willingness to shirk an engagement with the enemy. His otherwise blameless career, he knew, was in ruins. At 03.55, with tears running down his cheeks, he gave the order for the chase to be abandoned, then informed Milne of his decision. ‘This is the bravest thing you have ever done,’ was Wray’s inscrutable comment.
In the meantime, others had come close to catching the Germans. At 14.00 the previous afternoon the Dublin and two destroyers had left Malta with the intention of joining Troubridge. At 20.30 Captain John Kelly, Howard Kelly’s brother and commander of the Dublin, received orders direct from Milne to launch a torpedo attack on the enemy, using Gloucester’s shadowing reports as guidance. Howard Kelly expected to sight Goeben at about 03.30, but by the worst possible luck was himself spotted by Breslau’s lookouts. Souchon therefore turned away and slid past the British ships to starboard without being seen.
Howard Kelly in Gloucester continued to shadow the Germans on the morning of 8 August. He received a signal from Milne telling him to ‘drop astem and avoid capture’, which he chose to ignore. Instead, his idea was to give Breslau a mauling so that Goeben would come to her assistance and then be engaged by other British ships taking part in the pursuit. At 13.35 Gloucester opened fire on Breslau at 11,500 yards and the latter replied. Souchon reported that Breslau sustained a hit, which seems to have caused very little damage, and, as Kelly had hoped, went to her assistance until Gloucester retreated out of range. Kelly was quite happy to continue with this game, disregarding his Commander-in-Chief’s instructions not to proceed east of Cape Matapan, but at 16.40 a fuel shortage compelled him to turn away.
Once again, luck came to Souchon’s assistance. Back in London, a clerk at the Admiralty returned from lunch to find a swatch of telegrams awaiting despatch on a colleague’s desk. Helpfully, he decided to despatch them himself. Unfortunately, that addressed to Milne was worded ‘Commence hostilities against Austria’ and should not have been sent until 12 August, the date upon which the British ultimatum to the Austro-Hungarian Empire expired. Upon receipt of the signal Milne, now heading eastwards with his three battle cruisers and an additional light cruiser, decided to ignore developments in the Eastern Mediterranean and turned north into the Adriatic to support Troubridge. Back at the Admiralty scenes of near hysteria followed the discovery of the mistake. Four hours after receipt of the first signal Milne received its successor, cancelling it. The Admiralty, however, left him with the impression that the situation could alter at very short notice and he continued to press on
into the Adriatic. It was not until 12.30 on 9 August that the position was clarified with a third signal: ‘Not at war with Austria. Continue chase of Goeben.’
As a full day had been wasted it was now far too late to do anything about the Goeben and Breslau. Their voyage up the Aegean took on the aspect of a pleasure cruise, punctuated by the need to coal off the island of Denusa. Souchon’s only anxiety was whether the Turks would permit him to enter the Dardanelles. He need not have worried, for Enver Pasha, the Turkish Minister of War, had cleared the way for him. Even as the funnel smoke from Milne’s resumed pursuit appeared above the southern horizon, at 17.00 on 10 August the Germans were met by a Turkish pilot boat at the entrance to the straits, through which they were guided to the Sea of Marmara. From there it was plain sailing to receive the warmest of welcomes at Constantinople.
Milne, furious, sent the light cruiser Weymouth to the mouth of the Dardanelles to remind the Turks that the German warships should be sent out within twenty-four hours of their arrival. The bland response was that there were no German warships in Turkish waters. Fierce arguments to the contrary were met with the smiling response that two German warships had reached Constantinople, but had since been purchased by the Turkish government. They were now part of the Sultan’s navy and had been given new names: Goeben had become the Yavuz Sultan Selim and Breslau had been renamed Medili. Members of the British naval mission and Constantinople Embassy staff verified that on visiting the city’s famous harbour, the Golden Horn, crowds of delighted Turks were assembling daily to admire their navy’s latest acquisition, from the sterns of which hung the red Turkish ensign with its distinctive white sickle moon and star. On their decks German officers could be identified, despite have replaced their peaked caps with the fez. The press was full of praise for Souchon’s achievement, announcing that he was now Commander-in-Chief of the Turkish Navy.
It quickly became apparent that Turkey was responding favourably to German overtures for an alliance. On 15 August the Royal Navy’s mission was informed that its services were no longer required and it left Constantinople a month later. On 27 September Weber Pasha, the German officer responsible for the security of the Dardanelles, declared that the straits were closed to all shipping. This blocked Russia’s exit from the Black Sea, used for 90 per cent of import and export business. On 29 October Souchon led a squadron, including the former Goeben and Breslau, into the Black Sea and bombarded three major Russian ports. On 2 November Russia declared war on Turkey, followed by Great Britain and France four days later. The Sultan’s announcement that this was a holy war met with little enthusiasm in some parts of his empire; the Sherif of Mecca, a man of immense influence throughout the Muslim world, disagreed and started a rebellion in Arabia.
Meanwhile, what of those who had permitted the two German ships to escape to Turkey? Milne, Troubridge and Wray were summoned to England and required to explain their actions. Milne appeared to have escaped censure but was later informed that he would not be taking up the prestigious appointment of command at the Nore, which had been promised to him and was not employed at sea again. Troubridge was charged that ‘he did forbear to chase His Imperial German Majesty’s ship Goeben, being an enemy then flying,’ but was exonerated although he was not employed at sea again. His final appointment was to command a number of naval guns landed to support the Serbian Army. He maintained that but for Wray’s advice he would have fought the Goeben, but in the final analysis the decision not to fight devolved upon him alone. Wray claimed that he had been misunderstood and ‘was astounded when Troubridge announced his intention of abandoning the chase.’ Ostracised by his fellow naval officers, his career was finished. Only the two Kelly brothers, John and Howard, emerged with credit from the affair, the latter being awarded the Companionship of the Bath for his tenacious pursuit of the German ships. His name was also commemorated by the destroyer Kelly, commanded by Lord Louis Mountbatten in the Second World War.
As for the Goeben and Breslau, they took part in numerous operations against the Russian Black Sea Fleet, but will appear again in this story. Writing of Goeben, Winston Churchill commented that ‘For the peoples of the Middle East [she] carried more slaughter, more misery and more ruin than has ever before been borne within the compass of a ship.’ Because of Goeben, Turkey became Germany’s ally in a world war. Yet Turkey had recently been defeated by her smaller Balkan neighbours and Italy, so how could she hope to stand against the might of the British Empire, even with German assistance. When the war ended, she had lost Arabia, Palestine, Syria and Mesopotamia and over 300,000 of her people were dead. In 1922 the Sultanate was abolished and the remnant of the ancient Ottoman Empire became a republic.
CHAPTER 2
Lost – Cause Unknown
Give or take the odd hurricane, the Caribbean and what had once been called the Spanish Main was a grand station for a warship to be based. Together with the South American coast, it produced a huge and varied trade with Europe that justified the presence of cruisers to safeguard the interests of their respective nationalities and show the flag. It was a place of spread deck awnings, white tropical uniforms, and a social life in which the most important of the local residents, their wives and daughters were entertained aboard and reciprocated with hospitality ashore. All in all, now that tropical diseases were being brought under control, it was a pleasant place to be with an enjoyable climate. There was always, however, a sinister aspect to life in many of the countries bordering the Caribbean in that violence was an endemic quality of their political lives. In some of the smaller states that no longer had connections with a European power, the United States acted as sort international policeman until order had been restored. Generally, the colonial powers provided stability within their own colonies and actually cooperated in looking after each other’s interests.
There was one country that no one was capable of policing or providing any sort of stability, and that was Mexico. On 25 May 1911 President Diaz was overthrown, his place being taken by Francisco Madero. Not everyone liked Madero and a civil war broke out, ending when he was defeated and killed by Victoriano Huerta on 22 February 1913. Again, not many people liked Huerta, who instituted so harsh a rule that the United States government simply refused to recognise him. Internal opposition, led by Venustiano Carranza and others with similar ambitions, quickly resulted in armed revolution, while armed bandit gangs took on the guise of private armies and did exactly what they liked.
His Imperial Majesty’s light cruiser Dresden, under the command of Captain Erich Kohler, arrived in the West Indies during the summer of 1913. Mexico’s troubles reached epic proportions in April 1914 when several unarmed American sailors were arrested in Tampico. Following this the port of Vera Cruz was shelled by a United States naval task force which also landed sufficient troops to cover the evacuation of American civilians from the city. During this episode Dresden provided not only assistance but also transport for the recently deposed President Huerta, his family and closest supporters, who left Vera Cruz just as Carranza’s men entered the city. They were not particularly welcome passengers and Kohler was pleased to set them ashore in Kingston, Jamaica, where the British authorities had granted them asylum.
Kohler was well known and liked throughout the Caribbean, notably among the international shipping community, but he also took in great interest in the Royal Navy and its methods of doing things. He would have met the commander of the North America and West Indies station, Rear Admiral Sir Christopher Cradock, and known most of his captains socially. Initially, Cradock’s command consisted of the cruiser Bristol, joined by Fourth Cruiser Squadron containing the Suffolk (flag), Berwick, Essex and Lancaster because of the deteriorating situation in Mexico. Later, following the outbreak of war in Europe, they would be reinforced by Rear Admiral A.P. Stoddart’s Fifth Cruiser Squadron: Carnarvon (flag), Cornwall, Cumberland and Monmouth. It might seem, therefore, that Cradock had a considerable force at his disposal with which to hunt a possible quarry, but it m
ust be remembered that not only was it required to cover a vast area stretching from Halifax in Nova Scotia, Canada, to Pernambuco in Brazil, and that the numerous islands of the Caribbean had provided hiding places since the days of the buccaneers.
While the storm clouds of war gathered and grew ever darker, those aboard Dresden were looking forward to being relieved by Captain Emil Luddecker’s Karlsruhe and then returning home for a refit at Kiel and some leave. In fact, the relief took place at Port au Prince, Haiti, on 26 July and just days later, on the outbreak of war, their orders were changed. The two captains would exchange ships. Dresden would head south, round Cape Horn and rendezvous in the South Pacific with the light cruiser Leipzig, which had been safeguarding German interests off the west coast of Mexico, as well as Vice Admiral Count Maximilian von Spee’s East Asiatic Squadron, which was setting out on its long voyage from Tsingtao, Germany’s base in northern China. The arrangement would also enable Kohler to employ his extensive knowledge of Caribbean mercantile traffic to conduct a damaging cruiser war against Allied shipping, a context in which the necessary arrangements for supply ships and colliers had already been made.
There was no doubt that Kohler was pleased with his new command. Her two steam turbine engines were capable of producing a maximum speed of 27 knots that would enable her to outrun the older, larger and better armed cruisers that Cradock possessed, while her twelve 4.1-inch guns would enable her to hold her own against opponents of comparable size. Germany, like Great Britain, was requisitioning passenger liners for service as armed merchant cruisers and on 6 August Karlsruhe met the Norddeutscher Lloyd luxury liner Kronprinz Wilhelm at sea to assist in converting her to this role. Launched in 1901, in September the following year the Kronprinz Wilhelm had won the Blue Riband, crossing from Cherbourg to New York in five days, eleven hours and fifty-seven minutes with an average speed of 23.09 knots. In the same year she had carried the Kaiser’s brother, Crown Prince Albert Wilhelm Heinrich von Preussen, together with a large press corps, on a state visit to New York, where he was received by President Theodore Roosevelt. Since then, her passenger list had included many famous names from the world of the stage and music, among them Oscar Hammerstein, and members of European and American society. The armament she now received from Karlsruhe included two 3.4-inch guns and 290 rounds of ammunition, a machine gun and thirty-six rifles. Karlsruhe’s navigating officer, Lieutenant Commander Paul Thierfelder, became the liner’s new captain while her merchant skipper, the former Captain Grahn, received a naval commission as his second-in-command. Two petty officers and thirteen ratings were also transferred to from the cruiser.