The Battle of the Falkland Islands 5

The Battle of the Falkland Islands 5

It is not easy to put clearly the disposition of the ships acting

under Admiral Cradock at this time, nor to give an adequate idea of

the many disadvantages with which he had to contend. The difficulties

of communication on the east coast of South America between his two

squadrons were very great, on account of the long distances between

them (often some thousands of miles and always greater than the range

of our wireless). The only method found feasible was to send messages

in code by means of passing British merchantmen--usually the Royal

Mail liners. The inevitable result of this was that it was frequently

impossible for Admiral Cradock to keep in touch with his northern

squadron, and important matters of policy had thus to be decided on

the spot, the Admiral being informed later.

 

 

On the rare occasions that our ships visited Brazilian ports, which

were crowded with German shipping, the crews of these ships, having

nothing better to do, would come and pull round our cruisers--in

all probability cursing us heartily the while--much to the interest

and amusement of our men. These visits could only take place at the

most once every three months, when the opportunity of getting a good

square meal at a civilised restaurant was hailed with delight by

those officers who were off duty.

 

Our coaling base in these waters was admirably selected. There was

sufficient anchorage for a large number of ships four or five miles

from any land, but protected from anything but a heavy swell or sea

by surrounding ledges of coral awash at low water. Sometimes colliers

got slightly damaged by bumping against our ships when there was a

swell, but in other respects it suited its purpose excellently. The

Brazilians sent a destroyer to investigate once or twice, but could

find nothing to arouse their susceptibilities, for our ships were

always well outside the three-mile limit. Our sole amusement was

fishing, frequently for sharks.

 

 

Towards the latter part of August, the armed merchant cruiser

_Carmania_ (Captain Noel Grant) was sent out to join Admiral

Cradock's squadron with coal, provisions, and a large quantity of

frozen meat, which was sadly needed. She was ordered by him to assist

the _Cornwall_ in watching Pernambuco on September 11th, as it was

thought that the German storeship _Patagonia_ was going to put to

sea on September 11th to join the _Karlsruhe_. On her way south she

got orders to search Trinidad Island in the South Atlantic to find

out whether the Germans were making use of it as a coaling base, and

there fell in with the German armed liner _Cap Trafalgar_, which

she sank in a very gallant action that is described in a subsequent

chapter.

 

The armed merchant cruiser _Edinburgh Castle_ (Captain W. R. Napier)

was sent out from England with drafts of seamen and boys, as well

as provisions and stores for our men-of-war in these waters. On her

arrival at the base on October 12th, she was detained on service

to assist in the sweep that had been organised to search for the

_Karlsruhe_. Some of us have pleasant recollections of excellent

games of deck hockey played on the spacious promenade deck during her

all too short stay with us.

 

The _Defence_ (Captain E. La T. Leatham) touched at the base to coal

on October 27th, being on her way south to join Admiral Cradock's

southern command. She had to coal in bad weather, and perforated the

collier's side in doing so, but succeeded in completing with coal in

the minimum possible time under difficult conditions. Without loss

of time she proceeded to Montevideo, but never got any farther, as

it was there that the news of the Coronel disaster first reached

her. Admiral Cradock hoped to find von Spee before the German

light-cruisers _Dresden_ and _Leipzig_ joined the main squadron;

but he also was most anxious to wait for the _Defence_. She would

have made a very powerful addition to his squadron, and it seems a

thousand pities that it was not possible to effect this junction

before he quitted the eastern shores of South America for the Pacific.

 

The _Defence_ was very unlucky, and had a great deal of hard work

without any kudos; not till Admiral Sturdee's arrival did she leave

to join the _Minotaur_ on the Cape of Good Hope station, and the

very day she arrived there got the news of the Falkland Islands

battle! Having covered 23,000 miles in two and a half months, the

disappointment at having missed that fight was, of course, intense.

It is sad to think that few of her gallant crew are alive to-day, as

she was afterwards sunk in the battle of Jutland.

 

 

The _Invincible_, flagship of Vice-Admiral F. C. Doveton Sturdee

(Captain P. H. Beamish), the _Inflexible_ (Captain R. F. Phillimore,

C.B., M.V.O.), and the _Kent_ (Captain J. D. Allen) enter the scene

of operations later.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER IV

 

LIFE AT SEA IN 1914

 

"A seaman, smiling, swaggered out of the inn,

Swinging in one brown hand a gleaming cage

Wherein a big green parrot chattered and clung

Fluttering against the wires."

 

--ALFRED NOYES (_Drake_).

 

 

A short digression may perhaps be permitted, if it can portray the

long days, when for months at a time little occurs to break the

monotony of sea life. The reader may also experience the charitable

feeling that, at the expense of his patience, the sailor is indulging

in the "grouse" that proverbially is supposed to be so dear to him.

 

Of necessity, work on board ship in wartime must be largely a matter

of routine; and, though varied as much as possible, it tends to

relapse into "the trivial round, the common task." All day and all

night men man the guns ready to blaze off at any instant, extra

look-outs are posted, and there are officers and men in the control

positions. The ship's company is usually organised into three watches

at night, which take turns in relieving one another every four hours.

 

After sunrise the increased visibility gives ample warning of any

possible attack. The messdecks, guns, and ship generally are cleaned

before breakfast, while the forenoon soon passes in perfecting the

guns' crews and controls, and in physical drill. After dinner at

noon and a smoke, everyone follows the old custom of the sea, and has

a caulk (a sleep)--a custom originated in the days of sailing ships

who were at sea for long periods at a time, and watch and watch (i.e.

one watch on and one off) had to be maintained both day and night.

The men lie about the decks, too tired to feel the want of either

mattresses or pillows. The first dog watch (4-6 P.M.) is usually

given up to recreation until sunset, when it is time to go to night

defence stations. Day in and day out, this programme is seldom varied

except to stop and examine a merchant ship now and again.

 

Every ship met with on the high seas is boarded for the examination

of its passengers and cargo, an undertaking often attended by some

difficulty on a dark night. On approaching, it is customary to

signal the ship to stop; if this is not obeyed at once, a blank

round is fired as a warning; should this be disregarded a shotted

round is fired across her bows, but it is seldom necessary to resort

to this measure. At night these excursions have a strange, unreal

effect, and our boarding officer used to say that when climbing up a

merchantman's side in rough weather he felt like some character in

a pirate story. Getting out of a boat, as it is tossing alongside,

on to a rope ladder, is by no means an easy job, especially if the

officer is inclined to be portly. The searchlight, too, turned full

on to the ship, blinding the scared passengers who come tumbling

up, frequently imagining they have been torpedoed, adds to the

mysterious effect produced, whilst the sudden appearance of the

boarding officer in his night kit suggests a visit from Father

Neptune. But any idea of comedy is soon shattered by the grumpy

voice of the captain who has been turned out from his beauty sleep,

or by the vehement objections of a lady or her husband to their

cabin being searched. As a matter of fact, we were always met with

the most unfailing courtesy, and the boat's crew was often loaded

with presents of cigarettes or even chocolates, besides parcels of

newspapers hastily made up and thrown down at the last moment.

 

Off a neutral coast the food problem is an everlasting difficulty,

and as soon as the canteen runs out and tinned stores cannot be

replenished, the menu resolves itself into a more or less fixed item

of salt beef ("salt horse") or salt pork with pea soup. The old

saying, "Feed the brute, if a man is to be kept happy," has proved

itself true, but is one which at sea is often extraordinarily hard

to follow, especially when it is impossible to get such luxuries as

eggs, potatoes, and fresh meat. If flour runs out, the ship's biscuit

("hard tack"), which often requires a heavy blow to break it, forms

but a poor substitute for bread; although it is quite good eating,

a little goes a long way. The joy with which the advent of an armed

liner is heralded by the officers cannot well be exaggerated; the

stewards from all ships lose no time in trying to get all they can,

and the memory of the first excellent meal is not easily forgotten.

 

The ever-recurring delight of coaling ship is looked forward to

directly anchorage is reached. Coal-dust then penetrates everywhere,

even to the food, and after a couple of hours it seems impossible

for the ship ever to be clean again. Nearly every officer and man on

board, including the chaplain and paymasters, join in the work, which

continues day and night, as a rule, until finished. If this takes

more than twenty-four hours there is the awful trial of sleeping,

clothes and all, covered in grime, for hammocks have to be foregone,

else they would be quite unfit for further use. The men wear any

clothes they like. In the tropics it is a warm job working in the

holds, and clothes are somewhat scanty. A very popular article is

a bashed-in bowler hat, frequently worn with white shorts, and a

football jersey! There is, generally, a wag amongst the men who keeps

them cheery and happy, even during a tropical rain storm. His powers

of mimicking, often ranging from politicians to gunnery instructors,

bring forth rounds of applause, and all the time he'll dig out like a

Trojan.

 

The sailor is a cheery bird, and seldom lets an opportunity of

amusement escape. On one occasion, when lying at anchor in the

tropics, someone suggested fishing; after the first fish had been