Deeds That Thrill The Empire. Page 305. Volume II
A Stokers
Triumph: How The “Kent” Caught And Sank The “Nurnberg”
In nearly every action which the Navy has fought the officers and
men in the engine rooms and stokeholds have won the special praise of
their commanding officers, and never was such praise more worthily earned
than when the Kent, commanded by Captain John D. Allen, was a vessel of
9,800 tons, designed for a speed of twenty-three knots, and on the morning
when the German fleet, under Admiral von Spee, walked into the trap that
had been prepared for it at the Falkland Islands, she was doing the duty
of guard ship at the entrance to the harbour.
Many of the ships inside filled up with coal the day before, but
the Kent was one of those detailed to fill her bunkers on the 8th,
so that she was none too well provided with fuel.
As soon as the Germans were sighted, Admiral Sturdee ordered the
Kent to weigh anchor and keep in touch with the enemy while the remainder
of our ships were getting up steam. The
cruiser stood out to sea at once, and it will always remain a problem why
the heavy German ships, with their long range 8.2-inch guns, did not there
and then open fire on the isolated British vessel, for they were well
within range, and altogether outmatched the Kent, with her 6-inch weapons.
These onboard expected that the attack would be made, but much to
their surprise, the enemy sheered off instead to the east, leaving the
Kent to shadow them without interference.
Presently the
rest of the British squadron headed out of harbour at a rapidly increasing
speed, and the ships quickly disposed themselves into battle formation,
the Dreadnought cruisers Invincible and Inflexible leading the line.
In the course of a few hours the action had resolved itself into
three distinct phases. The
heavy armoured ships fought out their battle alone; the Glasgow and
Cornwall devoted themselves to the Leipzig; while Captain Allen, the
junior of the cruiser captains was entrusted with the task of accounting
for the Nurnberg. It was,
perhaps a curious selection, for not only was the Glasgow two knots faster
than the Kent, but the latter was, on paper, actually half a knot slower
than the German she was sent to chase.
The Nurnberg was in fact a faster ship than the Leipzig, to which
the Glasgow and Cornwall were devoting themselves; and, as we have already
seen, the Kent had not had the chance of completing with coal, and so was
not particularly well placed for carrying out a long chase.
However, if her bunkers had been loaded to their full capacity, the
added weight would have reduced her speed and probably put the possibility
of a chase out of the question altogether.
It was a chance either way, and the men of the Kent rose
magnificently to the one before them.
If they were to catch the enemy at all they would have to do it
quickly, otherwise the cruiser would be left in mid ocean without fuel,
helpless. In a few brief
words Captain Allen told the engineers and the stokers how they stood, and
appealed to them to get their utmost out of the ship.
Seamen and others who could be spared were sent down below to help
in the blistering business of feeding the furnaces and rushing up the coal
from the bunker. The
engineers, with a careful eye on the vanishing fuel, tightened up a valve
here and opened out a steam pipe there, coaxing the 22,000 horsepower
engines as a jockey coaxes a racehorse.
As one of the stokers put it afterwards,
“It was a case of either getting the Nurnberg or busting up in
trying to.”
Little by little the Kent increased her pace.
Her record speed in ten years of service was a shade over
twenty-four knots, but before long Engineer Commander Andrew and his
perspiring band of artificers and stokers had her doing well over
twenty-five an achievement which can, perhaps, only be adequately
appreciated by an engineer. All
the time the voracious furnaces were eating up the coal at an enormous
rate, and although the Nurnberg was being gradually overhauled, it was
becoming doubtful whether the Kent would have sufficient fuel to complete
the business when she got within range, to say nothing of getting back to
her at the Falklands afterwards.
It was therefore decided to eke out the coal with anything
combustible that could be found onboard.
Wooden boats were taken out of their cradles, broken up, and taken
below to feed the furnaces. Wooden
spars, companionways and ladders shared similar fate, and even the wooden
planking of the decks was torn up and passed down to the stokeholds.
Shortly after four o’clock the Kent passed within range of the
Leipzig, giving her thee broadsides as she went, and in less than an hour
afterwards the grimy stokers down below gave a great shout as they heard
one of the 6-inch guns in the forward turret out its 100-lb message.
They well knew what that bow-chaser meant. The enemy was within range at last.
Like the other German ships in this action, the Nurnberg fought
exceedingly well. The Kent
had opened at eleven thousand yards-nearly six and a half miles-and in a
few minutes the full speed fight was in full swing.
Both vessels made good shooting, and by the combination of fine
marksmanship and good luck one of the earliest of the Kent’s shells
struck the Nurnberg square in the stern, disabling the after guns and
seriously affecting the enemy’s speed and manoeuvring power.
The German weapons fired more rapidly than ours, and the shells
fell thickly around the British cruiser.
The silk ensign presented to the ship by the people of Kent was
shot to ribbons, the foretopmast was carried away, and many shells and
fragments penetrated the funnels.
One hit came perilously near ending the Kent’s career forever. A
shell from the Nurnberg entered a casemate by the gun port-a most
remarkable chance-and burst inside, killing or wounding the whole of the
gun’s crew. A fire was
started among the cordite charges lying about, and a flash of flame shot
down the ammunition hoist and into the passages below. A sergeant of Marine, Charles Mayes, dashed through the
flames and threw the burning charges and sacks away so that the fire would
not spread, and then, seizing a hose, flooded the compartment and
extinguished the fire. In the
woods of the commander-in-chief, “the extinction of this fire saved a
disaster which might have led to the loss of the ship”-and there was
some seven hundred souls onboard.
When the range had closed down to 7,500 yards and the two ships
were running broadside to broadside, the Kent started firing lyddite.
After that, the end was not long in coming. The Nurnberg’s upper deck was already a mass of twisted and
battered scrap iron, and her sides were peppered with holes.
A great fire now burst out in the fore part of the ship, and her
guns became silent; but when the Kent also ceased fire and closed down to
3,000 yards, the enemy’s colours were seen to be still flying at the
masthead. Another five
minutes hammering however, brought them down with a run, and the action
was over at 6.57, having lasted almost exactly two hours from the firing
of the first shot.
The Kent now devoted her self to the task of saving life. Nearly all her wooden boats had been burnt, and the enemy’s
fire had been so heavy that all those left had several holes knocked in
them. These had to be patched
up before the boats could be launched into the rising sea-for a stiff
breeze, with, rain had sprung up during the afternoon-and it was half an
hour before the first could be got away.
By that time the Nurnberg had disappeared, showing how great was
the damage she received before giving in.
As she went down a group of men could be seen on her quarterdeck,
waving the German flag as they went under.
Only about a score were picked up, and although everything possible
was done for them, many died of exposure.
The German loss was about 350 officers and men, while the sunken
cruiser was a vessel of 3,400 tons, armed with ten 4.1-inch gun, and less
than seven years old.
The Kent had been hit altogether thirty-six times, without counting
the holes made by splinters. Her
loss in men was five killed and eleven wounded, of whom three succumbed to
their injuries. If it is
possible to apportion credit for the victory, then the greatest measure
must be accorded to the men down below.
They saw nothing of the fight; but if it had not been for their
magnificent efforts, giving their ship a speed more than two knots above
that for which she was built, the gunners up above would never had got
within striking distance of the enemy.
The Kent had sailed so close to the wind-or, in its modern
equivalent, steamed so nearly to the limit of her capacity-that when she
got back to the Falklands little more than the sweepings of coal remained
in her bunkers. Only one of
her engine room staff, however, was accorded any recognition, Stoker Petty
Officer G.S. Brewer receiving the Distinguished Service Medal.
Captain J. D. Allen was ultimately made a C.B., while Sergeant
Mayes, for virtually saving the ship from destruction, was awarded the
Conspicious Gallantry Medal.
