The Battle of the Falkland Islands 15

The Battle of the Falkland Islands 15

The weather now changed, a light drizzling mist obscuring the former

visibility. It was obvious that there could be only one end to the

fight now in progress, and that it could not long be delayed. At 4.15

P.M. the _Invincible_ opened fire on the _Gneisenau_, which shifted

her target from the _Inflexible_ and fired at the flagship with

creditable precision. She was "straddling" the _Invincible_ at 4.25,

the range being about 10,000 yards, so this was increased. During the

next quarter of an hour our flagship was hit three times, but the

German was taking terrible punishment. At 4.47 she ceased firing; her

colours had been shot away several times, but she had hoisted them

again and again. Now, however, no colours were to be seen, so it was

only natural to conclude she had struck, though it was afterwards

ascertained that she had no more left to hoist. Our ships turned to

avoid getting too far off, when, to the surprise of all, she suddenly

fired off a solitary gun, showing that she was still game. Unlike

her late consort, which looked a perfect wreck for some time before

actually sinking, she had to all appearances suffered very little. At

5.8 P.M., however, her foremost funnel went by the board.

 

The carnage and destruction wrought in the _Gneisenau_ by our three

ships were terrible, and it was astonishing what a deal of hammering

she was still able to bear. That her casualties at this time were

very heavy was beyond doubt, as shell were to be seen tearing up

her decks as they burst, while the upper works became a veritable

shambles. It was not till 5.15 that the doomed ship, being badly hit

between the third and fourth funnels, showed real signs of being

_in extremis_. She was still firing, however, and even scored an

effective hit--the last one she was to get--about this period.

 

At 5.30 she was obviously dead beat and turned towards our squadron

with a heavy list to starboard, afire fore and aft, and steam issuing

in dense clouds from all directions. Admiral Sturdee now ordered

"Cease fire," but before the signal could be hoisted _Gneisenau_

opened fire again, and continued to keep it up with her one remaining

undamaged gun. This was returned until it was silenced, when our

ships closed in on her. The ensign flying at her foremast head was

hauled down at 5.40, but the one at her peak was left flying. Five

minutes later she again fired, but only one solitary round, after

which she maintained silence. The signal was made to cease firing

immediately afterwards, when it was evident that her gallant struggle

was at an end.

 

She now heeled over quite slowly, giving her men plenty of time to

get up on deck. At 6 P.M. our ships were perhaps 4,000 yards off,

and the Germans could be seen gathering together on her "forecastle

quarter deck." Remaining on her beam ends for a few seconds, during

which the men were seen clambering about on her side, she quite

gently subsided and disappeared without any explosion, although a

film of steamy haze hovered over the spot where she sank. The bow

remained poised for a second or two, after which she foundered at 6.2

in latitude 52° 40′ S., longitude 56° 20′ W., having withstood the

combined fire of our ships for an hour and forty-five minutes.

 

The sea was no longer quite calm, and a misty, drizzling rain was

falling. Closing in hastily, every effort was made to save life, and

boats were got out and lowered. This is no easy job after an action,

as the boats are turned inboard, resting on their crutches, and are

kept partially filled with water in case a shell might strike them

and cause a fire. This water must first be drained out, then the

weight of the boat is hoisted on to the slips to enable it to be

swung outboard, which is not easy if the ship has been hit near the

water-line, causing a list. Finally, several of the boats are certain

to be riddled with shell splinters.

 

A midshipman, describing the scene that followed, writes, "We cast

overboard every rope's end we can and try our hands at casting to

some poor wretch feebly struggling within a few yards of the ship's

side. Missed him! Another shot. He's further off now! Ah! the rope

isn't long enough. No good; try someone else. He's sunk now!"

 

The men, however, had not yet heard of the rough weather during

the Coronel action, and still thought that the Germans might have

saved our poor fellows there. Lines were thrown over with shouts of,

"Here, Sausage, put this round your belly," and the like. Taking into

consideration that it was estimated some 600 men had been killed

or wounded, and that the temperature of the water was 40°, it was

fortunate that as many as 170 officers and men were rescued. The

gallant Admiral Count von Spee, whose conduct bears out the best

traditions of naval history, and his two sons, all lost their lives

in the course of the day.

 

A curious feature of this action was the terrific damage done by

12-inch lyddite shell. One of the _Gneisenau's_ turrets was severed

from its trunk and blown bodily overboard. Nearly every projectile

that hit caused a fire, which was often promptly extinguished by the

splash of the next one falling short. Indeed, it was stated by the

prisoners that the guns' crews in the German ships were frequently

working their guns up to their knees in water, and towards the latter

part of the engagements were unable to fire on account of the volume

of water thrown up by short shots.

 

The _Invincible_ had been hit about twenty-two times, but the

fighting efficiency of the ship was not affected. Eighteen of these

were direct hits, two being below the water-line on the port side,

one of which flooded a bunker and gave her a list to port. There

were no casualties, however, amongst her complement of 950. The

_Inflexible_ was only hit directly twice; she had one man killed and

three slightly wounded. Her main derrick was cut in two, so that she

was unable to use her steam boats. The few casualties speak more

eloquently than any words of the tactics adopted by Admiral Sturdee

in putting to the greatest possible use the heavier armament at his

disposal.

 

The _Invincible_ had some interesting damage. One 8.2-inch shell

burst and completely wrecked her wardroom, making a gigantic hole

in her side. Two others hit the stalk of her after conning tower

and burst, but did no damage to the inmates, who only complained

of the fumes being sweet and sickly, leaving an unpleasant taste

which, however, soon wore off. Another interesting case was the

extraordinary damage done by a spent projectile falling at an angle

of fifty degrees. Passing close under her forebridge, it cut the

muzzle of one of her 4-inch guns clean off, after which it passed

through the steel deck, through a ventilating trunk, through the

deck below, and finished up in the Admiral's storeroom--side by

side with the cheese, which put the finishing touch to its career.

Another shell caused a nasty hole on the water-line, seven feet by

three, which was found to be beyond the capabilities of the ship's

staff to repair temporarily. The bunker had to be left flooded, all

the surrounding bulkheads being carefully shored up and strengthened

until she returned to England. In "A Naval Digression"[8] "G. F."

says: "On a part of the main deck one might have imagined for a

second that a philanthropist had been at work, for there, strewn

about, were a thousand odd golden sovereigns; a shell had come

through the upper deck, and, visiting the Fleet-Paymaster's cabin,

had 'upset' the money chest. It had then gone through the bulkhead

into the chaplain's cabin next door, and finally passed out through

the ship's side, taking with it a large part of the reverend

gentleman's wardrobe, and reducing to rags and tatters most of what

it had the decency to leave behind."

 

The Commander of the _Gneisenau_ was picked up by the _Inflexible_,

and gave some interesting details. Describing the time when the

_Canopus_ fired at the _Gneisenau_ and _Nürnberg_ on their first

approach to Port Stanley, he told us that he said to his Captain,

"Captain, we must either fight or go faster," adding that in his

opinion the day would have ended very differently had they come

up boldly off the mouth of the harbour and bombarded our ships at

anchor before they were able to get out. There can be no doubt that

the issue would have been the same, but the Germans might have been

able to inflict some serious damage, especially to those ships

lying nearest the mouth of the harbour, who would have masked the

battle-cruisers' fire. However, his Captain elected to run, so they

went "faster."

 

During the action he had to go round the ship with the fire-master,

putting out any fires that were discovered. Whilst going his rounds

during the engagement he found a stoker near one of the drinking

tanks on the mess deck, who said he had come up to get a drink of

water. The Hun Commander told him that he had no business to leave

his post, and, drawing his revolver, shot him dead where he stood.

 

A curious yarn is connected with Admiral Stoddart, who was in the

_Carnarvon_. He had a distant cousin in the German Navy whom he

had never met and about whose career he had frequently been asked

in years gone by. This cousin of his was one of those saved by the

_Carnarvon_, and when he got aboard he said, "I believe I have a

cousin in one of the British ships. His name is Stoddart." To find he

was the Admiral on board that very ship must have indeed given him

what the sailor terms "a fair knock out." He stated that practically

every man on the upper deck of the _Gneisenau_ was either killed or

wounded, and that it was a feat of the greatest difficulty to climb

across the deck, so great was the havoc wrought in all directions.

 

Another officer, who was stationed in one of the 8.2-inch turrets,

had a remarkable experience. The turret was hit by a 12-inch shell,

and he emerged the sole survivor. He then went on to a casemate,

which was also knocked out and most of the crew killed. Trying a

third gun, he was perhaps even more fortunate, as it was also hit by

a 12-inch shell, and the same thing happened, but shortly after the

ship sank and he was saved! This hero was a fat, young lieutenant,

who apparently drowned his sorrows the evening before he quitted the

_Carnarvon_. Before retiring to bed he stood up in the mess, drink in

hand, bowed blandly to everyone and said, with a broad smile on his

fat face, "Gentlemen, I thank you very much--you have been very kind

to me, and I wish you all in Hell!"

 

The wisdom of Admiral Sturdee's orders to the _Carnarvon_ to keep

out of range of the Germans was brought home by an officer survivor

of the _Gneisenau_, who said that they knew they were done and had

orders "to concentrate on the _little_ ship and sink her if she came

within range!"

 

Upwards of 600 men had been killed or wounded when the _Gneisenau's_

ammunition was finally expended. The German captain "fell-in" the

remainder and told them to provide themselves with hammocks or any