In the meantime, certain nets had been shot, and, though the inclosed waters were very wide, it was quite certain that the submarine was contained within them. Some hours later another trawler heard firing and rushed toward the sound. About sunset she sighted a submarine which was just dipping. The trawler opened fire at once without result. The light was very bad and it was very difficult to trace the enemy, but the trawler continued the search, and about midnight she observed a small light close to the water. She steamed within a few yards of it and hailed, thinking it was a small boat. There was a considerable amount of wreckage about, which was afterward proved to be the remains of a patrol vessel sunk by the submarine. There was no reply to the hail, and the light instantly disappeared. For the third time the patrols gathered and "starred" from this new point.

And here the tale was taken up by a sailor who was in command of another trawler at the time. I give it, so far as possible, in his own words.

"About 4 o'clock in the morning I was called by Deckhand William Brown to come on deck and see if an object sighted was a submarine. I did so, and saw a submarine about a mile distant on the port bow. I gave the order, 'Hard a-starboard.' The ship was turned until the gun was able to bear on the submarine, and it was kept bearing. At the same time I ordered hands to station, and about ten minutes afterward I gave the order to fire. The submarine immediately altered her course from W. to N. N. W., and went away from us very fast. I burned lights to attract the attention of the drifters, and we followed at our utmost speed, making about eight knots and shipping light sprays. We fired another shot about two minutes later, but it was breaking dawn, and we were unable to see the fall of the shots. After the second shot the submarine submerged. I hoisted warning signals and about half an hour later I saw a large steamer turning round, distant between two and three miles on our starboard beam. I headed toward her, keeping the gun trained on her, as I expected, judging by her action, that she had smelt the submarine. When we were about a mile and a half from the steamer I saw the submarine half a mile astern of her. We opened fire again, and gave her four shots, with about two minutes between 'em. The submarine then dodged behind the off quarter of the steamer."

He paused to light his pipe, and added, quite gravely, "When she had disappeared behind the steamer I gave the order 'Cease fire,'

to avoid hitting the larger vessel."

I made a mental note of his thoughtfulness; but, not for worlds would I have shown any doubt of his power to blast his way, if necessary, through all the wood and iron in the universe; and I was glad that the blue clouds of our smoke mingled for a moment between us.

"I saw two white boats off the port quarter," he continued. "But I paid no attention to them. I ordered the helm to be star-boarded a bit more, and told the gunner to train his gun on the bow of the steamer; for I expected the submarine to show there next. A few minutes later she did so, and when she drew ahead I gave the order to fire. I should say we were about a mile and a quarter away. We gave him two more shots and they dropped very close, as the spray rose over his conning tower. He altered his course directly away from us, and we continued to fire. The third shot smothered his conning tower with spray. I did not see the fourth and fifth shots pitch. There was no splash visible, although it was then broad daylight; so I believe they must have hit him. A few moments after this the submarine disappeared.

"I turned, then, toward the two white boats and hailed them. The chief officer of the steamer was in charge of one. They were returning to their ship, and told me that we had hit the submarine. We escorted them through the nets and parted very good friends."

"But how did you get the scalp of this U-boat?" I asked.

"We signalled to the admiral, and sent the Daffy to investigate.

She found the place, all right. It was a choppy sea, but there was one smooth patch in it, just where we told 'em the submarine had disappeared; a big patch of water like wavy satin, two or three hundred yards of it, coloured like the stripes on mackerel, all blue and green with oil. They took a specimen of the oil."

"Did it satisfy the Admiralty?"

"No. Nothing satisfies the Admiralty but certainties. They count the minimum losses of the enemy, and the maximum of their own.

Very proper, too. Then you know where you are. But, mind you, I don't believe we finished him off that morning. Oil don't prove that. It only proves we hit him. I believe it was the 'Maggie and Rose' that killed him, or the 'Hawthorn.' No; it wasn't either.

It was the 'Loch Awe.'"

"How was that?"

"Well, as Commander White was telling you, we'd shot out nets to the north and south of him. There were two or three hundred miles, perhaps, in which he might wriggle about; but he couldn't get out of the trap, even if he knew where to look for the danger. He tried to run for home, and that's what finished him.

They'll tell you all about that on the 'Loch Awe.'"

So the next day I heard the end of the yarn from a sandy-haired skipper in a trawler whose old romantic name was dark with new significance. He was terribly logical. In his cabin--a comfortable room with a fine big stove--he had a picture of his wife and daughters, all very rigid and uncomfortable. He also had three books. They included neither Burns nor Scott. One was the Bible, thumbed by his grandfather and his father till the paper had worn yellow and thin at the sides. The second, I am sorry to say, was called _The Beautiful White Devil_. The third was an odd volume of Froude in the _Everyman_ edition. It dealt with the Armada.

"I was towin' my nets wi' the rest o' my group," he said, "till about 3 o'clock i' the mornin' on yon occasion. It was fine weather wi' a kind o' haar. All at once, my ship gaed six points aff her coorse, frae S. E. to E. N. E., and I jaloused that the nets had been fouled by some muckle movin' body. I gave orders to pit the wheel hard a-port, but she wouldna answer. Suddenly the strain on the nets stoppit.

"I needna tell you what had happened. Of course, it was preceesely what the Admiralty had arranged tae happen when gentlemen in undersea boats try to cut their way through our nets. Mind ye, thae nets are verra expensive."

A different situation, however, has lately developed in the more unequal fight between submarines and merchant vessels. There the submarine unquestionably has gained and maintained supremacy. Two factors are primarily responsible for this: lack of speed and lack of armament on the part of the merchantman. Of course, recently the latter condition has been changed and apparently with good success.

But even at best, an armed merchantman has a rather slim chance at escape. Neither s.p.a.ce nor available equipment permits a general arming of merchantmen to a sufficient degree to make it possible for the latter to attack a submarine from any considerable distance.

Then, too, what chance has a merchant vessel unprotected by patrol boats to escape the torpedo of a hidden submarine? How successfully this question will finally be solved, the future only will show. At present it bids fair to become one of the deciding factors in determining the final issue of this war.

The first authentically known case of an attack without warning by a German submarine against an allied merchantman was the torpedoing of the French steamship _Amiral Ganteaume_ on October 26, 1914, in the English Channel. The steamer was sunk and thirty of its pa.s.sengers and crew were lost. A number of other attacks followed during the remainder of 1914 and in January, 1915. Then came on February 3, 1915, the now famous p.r.o.nouncement of the German Government declaring "all the waters around Great Britain and Ireland, including the whole of the English Channel, a war zone," and announcing that on and after Feb. 18th, Germany "will attempt to destroy every enemy ship found in that war zone, without its being always possible to avoid the danger that will thus threaten neutral persons and ships." Germany gave warning that "it cannot be responsible hereafter for the safety of crews, pa.s.sengers, and cargoes of such ships," and it furthermore "calls the attention of neutrals to the fact that it would be well for their ships to avoid entering this zone, for, although the German naval forces are instructed to avoid all violence to neutral ships, in so far as these can be recognized, the order given by the British Government to hoist neutral flags and the contingencies of naval warfare might be the cause of these ships becoming the victims of an attack directed against the vessels of the enemy."

This was the beginning of the submarine controversy between Germany and the United States and resulted in a note from the United States Government in which it was stated that the latter viewed the possibilities created by the German note

with such grave concern, that it feels it to be its privilege, and, indeed, its duty, in the circ.u.mstances to request the Imperial German Government to consider before action is taken the critical situation in respect of the relation between this country and Germany which might arise were the German naval forces, in carrying out the policy foreshadowed in the Admiralty's proclamation, to destroy any merchant vessel of the United States or cause the death of American citizens:--To declare and exercise a right to attack and destroy any vessel entering a prescribed area of the high seas without first certainly determining its belligerent nationality and the contraband character of its cargo would be an act so unprecedented in naval warfare that this Government is reluctant to believe that the Imperial Government of Germany in this case contemplates it as possible.

After stating that the destruction of American ships or American lives on the high seas would be difficult to reconcile with the friendly relations existing between the two Governments, the note adds that the United States "would be constrained to hold the Imperial Government of Germany to a strict accountability for such acts of their naval authorities, and to take any steps it might feel necessary to take to safeguard American lives and property and to secure to American citizens the full enjoyment of their acknowledged rights on the high seas."

It is not within the province of this book to go in detail into the diplomatic history of the submarine controversy between Germany and the United States. Suffice it to say, therefore, that from the very beginning the controversy held many possibilities of the disastrous ending which finally came to pa.s.s when diplomatic relations were broken off between the two countries on February 3, 1917, and a state of war was declared by President Wilson's proclamation of April 6, 1917.

The period between Germany's first War Zone Declaration and the President's proclamation--two months and three days more than two years--was crowded with incidents in which submarines and submarine warfare held the centre of the stage. It would be impossible within the compa.s.s of this story to give a complete survey of all the boats that were sunk and of all the lives that were lost. Nor would it be possible to recount all the deeds of heroism which this new warfare occasioned. Belligerents and neutrals alike were affected.

American ships suffered, perhaps, to a lesser degree, than those of other neutrals, partly because of the determined stand taken by the United States Government. On May 1, 1915, the first American steamer, the _Gulflight_, was sunk. Six days later the world was shocked by the news that the _Lusitania_, one of the biggest British pa.s.senger liners, had been torpedoed without warning on May 7, 1915 and had been sunk with a loss of 1198 lives, of whom 124 were American citizens. Before this nation was goaded into war, more than 200 Americans were slain.

Notes were again exchanged between the two Governments. Though the German government at that time showed an inclination to abandon its position in the submarine controversy under certain conditions, sinkings of pa.s.senger and freight steamers without warning continued. All attempts on the part of the United States Government to come to an equitable understanding with Germany failed on account of the latter's refusal to give up submarine warfare, or at least those features of it which, though considered illegal and inhuman by the United States, seemed to be considered most essential by Germany.

Then came the German note of January 31, 1917, stating that "from February 1, 1917, sea traffic will be stopped with every available weapon and without further notice" in certain minutely described "prohibited zones around Great Britain, France, Italy, and in the Eastern Mediterranean."

The total tonnage sunk by German submarines from the beginning of the war up to February 1, 1917, has been given by British sources as over three million tons, while German authorities claimed four million. The result of the German edict for unrestricted submarine warfare has been rather appalling, even if it fell far short of German prophesies and hopes. During the first two weeks of February a total of ninety-seven ships with a tonnage of about 210,000 tons were sent to the bottom of the sea. Since then the German submarines have taken an even heavier toll. It has, however, become next to impossible, due to the restrictions of censorship, to compute any accurate figures for later totals, though it has become known from time to time that the Allied as well as the neutral losses have been very much higher during the five months of February to July, 1917 than during any other five months.

[Ill.u.s.tration: U. & U.

_U. S. Submarine H-3 Aground on California Coast._]

The figures of the losses of British merchantmen alone are shown by the following table:

Ships Over 1,600 Under 1,600 Week ending-- Tons. Tons. Total.

March 4 14 9 23 March 11 13 4 17 March 18 16 8 24 March 25 18 7 25 April 1 18 13 31 April 8 17 2 19 April 15 19 9 28 April 22 40 15 55 April 29 38 13 51 May 6 24 22 46 May 13 18 5 23 May 20 18 9 27 May 27 18 1 19 June 3 15 3 18 June 10 22 10 32 June 17 27 5 32 June 24 21 7 28 July 1 15 5 20 July 8 14 3 17 July 15 14 4 18 July 22 21 3 24 July 29 18 3 21 Aug. 5 21 2 23 Aug. 12 14 2 16 Aug. 19 15 3 18 Aug. 26 18 5 23 Sept. 2 20 3 23 Sept. 9 12 6 18 Sept. 16 8 20 28 Sept. 23 13 2 15 Sept. 30 11 2 13 Oct. 7 14 2 16 Oct. 14 12 6 18 Oct. 21 17 8 25 Oct. 28 14 4 18 Nov. 4 8 4 12 Nov. 11 1 5 6

The table with its week by week report of the British losses is of importance because at the time it was taken as a barometer indicative of German success or failure. The German admiralty at the moment of declaring the ruthless submarine war promised the people of Germany that they would sink a million tons a month and by so doing would force England to abject surrender in the face of starvation within three months. During that period the whole civilized world looked eagerly for the weekly statement of British losses. Only at one time was the German estimate of a million tons monthly obtained. Most of the time the execution done by the undersea boats amounted to less than half that figure. So far from England being beaten in three months, at the end of ten she was still unshattered, though sorely disturbed by the loss of so much shipping. Her new crops had come on and her statesmen declared that so far as the food supply was concerned they were safe for another year.

During this period of submarine activity the United States entered upon the war and its government immediately turned its attention to meeting the submarine menace. In the first four months literally nothing was accomplished toward this end. A few submarines were reported sunk by merchantmen, but in nearly every instance it was doubtful whether they were actually destroyed or merely submerged purposely in the face of a hostile fire. Americans were looked upon universally as a people of extraordinary inventive genius, and everywhere it was believed that by some sudden lucky thought an American would emerge from a laboratory equipped with a sovereign remedy for the submarine evil. Prominent inventors indeed declared their purpose of undertaking this search and went into retirement to study the problem. From that seclusion none had emerged with a solution at the end of ten months. When the submarine campaign was at its very height no one was able to suggest a better remedy for it than the building of cargo ships in such quant.i.ties that, sink as many as they might, the Germans would have to let enough slip through to sufficiently supply England with food and with the necessary munitions of war.

Many cruel sufferings befell seafaring people during the period of German ruthlessness on the high seas. An open boat, overcrowded with refugees, hastily provisioned as the ship to which it belonged was careening to its fate, and tossing on the open sea two or three hundred miles from sh.o.r.e in the icy nights of midwinter was no place of safety or of comfort. Yet the Germans so construed it, holding that when they gave pa.s.sengers and crew of a ship time to take to the boats, they had fully complied with the international law providing that in the event of sinking a ship its people must first be given an opportunity to a.s.sure their safety.

There have been many harrowing stories of the experiences of survivors thus turned adrift. Under the auspices of the British government, Rudyard Kipling wrote a book detailing the agonies which the practice inflicted upon helpless human beings, including many women and children. Some of the survivors have told in graphic story the record of their actual experiences. Among these one of the most vivid is from the pen of a well-known American journalist, Floyd P.

Gibbons, correspondent of the Chicago _Tribune_. He was saved from the British liner, _Laconia_, sunk by a German submarine, and thus tells the tale of his sufferings and final rescue:

I have serious doubts whether this is a real story. I am not entirely certain that it is not all a dream and that in a few minutes I will wake up back in stateroom B. 19 on the promenade deck of the Cunarder _Laconia_ and hear my c.o.c.kney steward informing me with an abundance of "and sirs" that it is a fine morning.

I am writing this within thirty minutes after stepping on the dock here in Queenstown from the British mine sweeper which picked up our open lifeboat after an eventful six hours of drifting, and darkness and baling and pulling on the oars and of straining aching eyes toward that empty, meaningless horizon in search of help. But, dream or fact, here it is:

The first-cabin pa.s.sengers were gathered in the lounge Sunday evening, with the exception of the bridge fiends in the smoking-room. _Poor b.u.t.terfly_ was dying wearily on the talking-machine and several couples were dancing.

About the tables in the smoke-room the conversation was limited to the announcement of bids and orders to the stewards. This group had about exhausted available discussion when the ship gave a sudden lurch sideways and forward. There was a m.u.f.fled noise like the slamming of some large door at a good distance away. The slightness of the shock and the mildness of the report compared with my imagination was disappointing. Every man in the room was on his feet in an instant.

I looked at my watch. It was 10.30.

Then came five blasts on the whistle. We rushed down the corridor leading from the smoking-room at the stern to the lounge, which was amidships. We were running, but there was no panic. The occupants of the lounge were just leaving by the forward doors as we entered.

It was dark when we reached the lower deck. I rushed into my stateroom, grabbed life preservers and overcoat and made my way to the upper deck on that same dark landing.

I saw the chief steward opening an electric switch box in the wall and turning on the switch. Instantly the boat decks were illuminated. That illumination saved lives.

The torpedo had hit us well astern on the starboard side and had missed the engines and the dynamos. I had not noticed the deck lights before. Throughout the voyage our decks had remained dark at night and all cabin portholes were clamped down and all windows covered with opaque paint.

The illumination of the upper deck, on which I stood, made the darkness of the water, sixty feet below, appear all the blacker when I peered over the edge at my station boat, No. 10.

Already the boat was loading up and men and boys were busy with the ropes. I started to help near a davit that seemed to be giving trouble, but was stoutly ordered to get out of the way and get into the boat. We were on the port side, practically opposite the engine well. Up and down the deck pa.s.sengers and crew were donning lifebelts, throwing on overcoats, and taking positions in the boats. There were a number of women, but only one appeared hysterical....