Deeds That Thrill The Empire. Page 737. Volume V

Our Destroyers At Heligoland

            In the fierce fight, which occurred in the Bight of Heligoland on august 28^th 1914, our destroyers played a most conspicuous part.  Owing to the heavy mist that hung over the sea, the fight rapidly degenerated into a series of independent actions in which the participants were separated by a screen of fog from their comrades.  Such conditions would in any case for bid any attempt to present the story of the action as a connected whole, and, as the individual part played by the Arethusa has been described elsewhere, so the more noteworthy of our destroyers exploits will be described here.

            First of all there is a unique story of the sinking of the German destroyer V187 and of what happened in connection with it.  Three or four of our destroyers managed to cut off this vessel from her consorts and in a very short space of time the German boat was seen to be sinking.  Commander at once gave the Hon. H. Meade, of the Goshawk, the order for our destroyers to cease fire, and those which were nearest lowered their boats to pick up surviving Germans, many of whom had jumped overboard.  While our seaman were pulling towards the German destroyers, an officer in the after part of that vessel ran to the gun, trained it on to the Goshawk, and fired at her, from a range of about 200 yards.             

 This is just the sort of thing that one would expect the Germans to do; but the Goshawk promptly got to work, and with two or three well placed shots knocked the gun overboard-and, it is to be hoped, the officer with it.  After that, our boats went on picking up the German sailors as though nothing so disgusting had happened; and then, while they were in the middle of this, and the boats already had a number of the enemy on board, a German cruiser suddenly appeared out of the mist.  True to her nationality, she opened fire not only on our destroyers, but also on the boats, which were risking themselves in saving Germans from drowning.

            It was impossible for our destroyers to attempt to fight a cruiser.  The only to do was to get away as quickly as possible.  The Goshawk was lucky in that her boat, loaded with dripping Germans who had been saved by our blue jackets from certain death by drowning, was now close by; but there was no time to take them on board.  Our own men clambered on to the destroyer, and the Germans were left in the Goshawk’s boat, to be picked up by their own people.

             Another of our destroyers, the Defender, was not so fortunate, for two of her boats, in which were many rescued Germans, were do far away that if the destroyer had attempted to get to them she would certainly have been sunk by the enemy cruiser.  There was nothing for it, therefore, but to leave the boats behind in obedience to orders, the Defenders had to steam away, leaving not only a number of half drowned Germans, but also the British seaman who had been sent out on the Chivalrous mission of saving them from death.  We can imagine the feelings of the rest of the crew of the Defender as they left their shipmates to be picked up by the enemy.

            In point of fact, however, the Germans did not pick them up.  From the opening of the action a number of our submarines had been lying in wait for a chance of getting in a torpedo at an enemy ship, and although such an opportunity never arose, there was one submarine which, with its periscope a foot or two above the water, had been a silent and unseen witness of this dramatic incident.  It was the E4, commanded by Lieutenant-Commander Ernest W. Leir.  That officer had seen everything that occurred, and he waited about in hope of being able to torpedo the German cruiser that had fired its guns on the English boats while they were trying to rescue Germans; but the cruiser swung away and disappeared in the mist.

            There still remained in sight the boats of the Defender, carrying a few Englishmen and many Germans; and the surprise of those on board must have been very much out of common when they suddenly found a submarine nosing out of the water close beside them.  But that is what happened.  Lieutenant-Commander Leir brought the E4 to the surface close alongside the boats, and at once took onboard all the Englishmen there were.  He also took as prisoners a German officer and two men, and he might with full justification have taken another officer and six men, who were all unwounded; but as there were eighteen wounded Germans in the boats-all, be it remembered, picked up out of the water by British seamen-he left these behind to look after their injured comrades, and to navigate the boats.  Not only that.  He gave them water, and biscuits, and a compass, and gave the officer a course he had to steer for Heligoland, which was not far distant; while the men who had manned the Defender’s boats stripped themselves of shirts, underclothing and coats, in order to provide bandages and warmth for the wounded Germans.

            All this our seamen did after a German cruiser had tried to sink British boats that were trying to save the German seamen from drowning.  One might ask whether it was worth it; but British blue jackets ask no such question when there is a human life at stake, whether it be that of a friend or of an enemy.  They succeeded I their work, for the wounded Germans who would have been taken prisoners by them were saved and left to their own people.  Had it not been for our men they would not have been alive at all.  For his most opportune appearance on this occasion, Lieutenant-Commander Leir was promoted to the rank of Commander, a fit reward for the risk he ran.   

            Little justice has so far been done to the work of the destroyer Lapwing in the Highland fight.  When the action was at its hottest, the Laurel, Liberty, Lysander and Laertes found themselves suddenly in action against three of the enemy’s cruisers and a number of destroyers.  The first three destroyers got away more or less safely, though two were severely damaged, but a shell that burst in her engine room and left her almost helpless hit the Laertes.  The men on deck stood to their guns and silenced their fire not by one iota, though they realized that but one could await them.  Down below, engineers, artefacts and stokers worked like mad to repair the injuries that the engines and boilers had sustained.  But there was not a soul on board who expected to live through the bombardment to which the Germans subjected them.

            Presently, the men furiously at work down below heard the continuous shriek of the enemy’s shells broken by the sound of a faint cheer.  It was welcome given by the men on deck to the destroyer Lapwing, which learning of the Laertes plight, had dashed off at once to endeavour to rescue her.  With magnificent seamanship, Lieutenant Commander Alexander Gye, of the Lapwing, carried his vessel into the inferno of fire and swung her round across the bows of the wounded Laertes; and the seaman, backing up his efforts with a will, got a hawser aboard.  Gradually the Lapwing began to heave ahead and tow the Laertes out of the zone of fire; and then-the hawser snapped.

             Now indeed all seemed over with the Laertes, and the word was passed round that every man was to be ready to do the best he could for himself.  Still shuddering under the enemy’s fire, but yet disbanding to lower her colours, the Laertes rolled heavily in the swell while the men donned their lifebelts and swimming collars; and then, just as all seemed lost, the bark of friendly guns spoke out behind them.  The Lapwing heard them first, and the Lapwing’s men were the first to cheer; but those on board the Laertes thought their comrades were but cheering them to a gallant death.

            But the Lapwing’s cheering continued, and the noise of the approaching guns became louder; and in a very few minutes the battle cruiser Lion had disclosed herself out of the mist, and the German cruiser that had thought to make an easy meal of the stricken Laertes was sent to the bottom under an salvo of 13.5-inch shells.  

            The rescued Laertes was well rewarded for her gallant conduct.  Her skipper, Lieutenant-Commander Malcolm Goldsmith was promoted to Commander, and Sub-Lieutenant G. H. Faulkner, who went on fighting his gun after being wounded, was advanced to Lieutenant.  Gunner Charles Powell, whose conduct throughout the action was exemplary, was not only awarded the D.S.C., but was shortly afterwards promoted to mate.  The Lapwing, for her gallant, single-handed effort to save her consort, was not even mentioned in despatches-but that sort of thing so often happens.

            In the early stages of the action the destroyers Laurel and Liberty, which had been sent in advance of the light cruisers, were both exposed for some time to an attack of overwhelming strength.  The Laurel, under Commander Frank rose, found herself in action, and almost unsupported, against two German cruisers and a number of destroyers, whose efficiency had not yet been affected by meeting ships that could reply to them on equal terms, and she suffered severely.  The first shell that struck her went into her engine room, killing and wounding a number of men.  Next, her forward gun was struck, and put out of action, while the troubles of the engineer’s department were soon after increased by a shot which demolished the after funnel and started a fire which threatened the destruction of the ship.

            In close action the fore bridge is always the main object of attack; and so it was in this case.  Commander Rose was struck in the left leg by a shell splinter early in the action; but he refused to eave his post of danger.  His wound was hastily bandaged; and when, sometime later; he was struck in the other leg, he still declined to be taken below, although, since he could no longer stand, he was compelled to hand over the command of his ship to Lieutenant Charles Peploe.  By the time assistance arrived the Laurel was almost as done as any warship could be-and it was, quite likely, a German shell that saved her.  She lay, almost helpless, an easy target for the enemy, when a shot struck her amidships; and, whether it set her oil fuel smouldering, or whether it was a particularly damaging sort of shell that did not quite “come off,” it enveloped her in a thick cloud of black smoke.  Before it cleared away to disclose the target more distinctly to the enemy, our cruisers had arrived, and the Laurel was saved.

            Her losses were serious, for there was eleven men killed and nine seriously wounded; but she had kept up her end in a manner worthy of the best of the Navy’s traditions.  Her machinery was so damaged that she had to be towed home by the Amethyst; but she had stuck out-and was prepared to stick out to the end-against overwhelming odds, and that is the most we can ask of any of our defenders. 

             Commander Rose, who fortunately recovered from his wounds, was awarded the Distinguished Service Order, while Lieutenant Peploe, who took command when Rose could no longer stand, received the Distinguished Service Cross.  Engineer Lieutenant-Commander E.H.T. Meeson, who was in charge of the machinery department, was given the D.S.O. and soon after promoted to Commander; while many of the crew were awarded the D.S.M.