The Dandarnelles Disaster (9 page)

At 5.10 p.m. on 6 August there was an urgent message from HMS
Gloucester
on her lonely patrol at the southern exit of the Strait of Messina: the
Goeben
had just come out, ‘steering east'. Ten minutes later the
Breslau
appeared. Both ships were careful to hug the coast, within the three-mile Italian territorial limit, as they rounded the Italian foot and headed northeast towards the Adriatic.

Howard Kelly's light cruiser was three knots slower than the
Breslau
(28 knots), and her heaviest guns were a pair of six-inchers, one fore, one aft. She also had ten four-inch guns and two torpedo tubes. By keeping contact with the Germans in dangerous conditions the
Gloucester
was able to discover, at considerable risk, where Souchon was actually going, and only gave up the pursuit on a direct order from Milne, when it was clear that the Germans had outpaced the rest of the British fleet and would get away. The conduct of the ship was a beacon of courage and competence in a sorry saga of ineptitude and hesitation, salvaging some honour for an embarrassed Royal Navy.

When Kelly's report reached him, Milne was about one-third of the way along the north coast of Sicily, heading east. Mindful of the order not to enter Italian waters, he saw no alternative but to turn about and take the
long route round the great island, which meant he could never hope to catch the Germans. That this did not interest him overmuch is shown by the fact that he took his ships at a far from urgent speed back to Malta – to collect coal which the capacious British battlecruisers did not need. By the time an Admiralty message not to worry about territorial waters reached him it was too late to be relevant.
Dublin
and two destroyers had left Malta at two p.m. to join Troubridge; Milne diverted them to seek the Germans and make a torpedo attack on them. John Kelly worked out that he would not catch up until mid-morning the next day; but at least he put his foot down, on the practical principle that you never know what may turn up – perhaps one of Souchon's ships might break down.

His brother in the
Gloucester
kept up the pursuit despite a close pass at him by the
Breslau
, though neither side opened fire, at a range of less than 4,000 yards. At 9.46 p.m. on the 6th the British light cruiser sent another electrifying message:

Urgent.
Goeben
altering course to southward.

The Germans were not entering the Adriatic after all: the north-easterly course had been a feint. John Kelly now calculated that he might be able to cross the enemy's path just after midnight – his reward for getting a move on. Unfortunately evasive manoeuvres by the Germans prevented him from making an attack, despite a flow of information from his brother. He gave up just before three a.m.

Admiral Troubridge, on learning the Germans were apparently headed for the Adriatic, decided to make an attack, hoping to intercept them between 2.30 and 3 a.m. GMT, with luck in the confined waters north of Corfu, where he might hope to offset the
Goeben
's advantages in armament, armour and speed. On hearing of Souchon's change of course away from him he still hoped to cross the Germans' path around three a.m. or later, though further south. Unable to sleep for tension on the way southward, Troubridge had doubts, which were encouraged by Captain Fawcet Wray of the
Defence
, his flag captain and a gunnery specialist. He argued that the
Goeben
was a force superior to the four heavy cruisers because she could pick them off at her leisure from outside the range of their own guns and move a good deal faster too. At 2.55 a.m. on 7 August Troubridge changed his mind, called off the hunt and sheered off to sheltered waters. It made no difference that he could have spread his cruisers out and sent in his fast destroyers to make torpedo attacks, thus offering
Goeben
a bewildering plethora of targets.

All he needed to do was to clip the Germans' wings, to inflict enough damage for the British battlecruisers to catch up and finish them off: the enemy, once slowed down, had no refuge or source of extra ammunition.

One knows instinctively that a John or Howard Kelly would have ‘had a go' in the not unreasonable hope that something would turn up. Troubridge however put discretion before valour, and paid a high price for it. A court of inquiry determined that he should be tried by court martial for negligence or default in his failure ‘to pursue … an enemy then flying'. He was acquitted, despite Milne's best efforts to stab him in the back with his evidence, but never got another seagoing command and became a pariah in the navy. So at least did Milne, who was never charged over his part in the débâcle forever known as ‘the
Goeben
affair'. So did Wray.

John Kelly having missed the Germans and Troubridge having declined to take them on, there was now nothing between the Mediterranean Division and its goal, the Dardanelles, except for the open sea. The
Gloucester,
after an inconclusive exchange of shots with the
Breslau
, reluctantly abandoned the chase south of the Peloponnese. This was fortunate as Souchon had planned to spring a trap on the irritating contact-keeper by hiding behind a headland in the
Goeben
while using his other ship as a lure. Howard Kelly was rightly acclaimed for his bold and sustained pursuit. He had divined Souchon's intentions and reported his manoeuvres: it was more than a great pity that Milne's blunders and Troubridge's defection had ensured his crew's best efforts in keeping up speed and sending quick and clear signals were all in vain. The performance of the brothers Kelly, who both became admirals, showed up the contrast between the high quality of many individual ships' captains and the indifferent performance of so many admirals of the time.

The unquestionably competent Souchon carried on, pausing to take up coal from two German colliers deployed for his benefit at Dhenousa among the Greek Aegean islands. The rendezvous duly took place on Sunday 9 August; the admiral found time to order a church service. After 12 more hours of sweated labour the
Goeben
had built her coal stocks up to just half a full load. On Monday 10 August at 4.45 a.m. Souchon ordered his ships to weigh anchor and steer north.

Urged on by Berlin and Commander Humann in Constantinople, the German ships arrived at a point five miles off the entrance to the Dardanelles. The flagship signalled by wireless, lamp and flag to the entrance forts: ‘Send me a pilot immediately.' A Turkish torpedo-boat came out flying the
flag-signal ‘Follow me'. Within minutes Admiral Souchon's command passed Cape Helles and entered the Dardanelles, its mission apparently accomplished. Unbeknown to his new hosts, however, Souchon had been given another order which would change the course of world history – but would take ten weeks rather than ten days to execute.

CHAPTER 3

Blockade

Admiral Sir Berkeley Milne, having learned from several signals on the night of 5–6 August that the German ships had returned to Messina after their raid on the Algerian coast, was as convinced as ever that they were bound eventually to head westward for home. He therefore decided to block their presumed route, which as we have seen meant heading very briefly north out of Messina before sailing west along the lengthy northern coast of Sicily. He had taken his ships to Bizerta, in French Tunisia, to enable some of them to take on coal; by 6.30 a.m. on the 6th he reached the north-western tip of Sicily for a slow sweep eastward. Lacking any further intelligence of the enemy, he resolved to guard the northern exit from the Strait of Messina. He sent the light cruisers
Weymouth
and
Chatham
ahead of the two battlecruisers in company, his flagship
Inflexible
and the
Indefatigable
(Captain Kennedy of the
Indomitable
was still coaling in Bizerta, having wasted 12 hours looking for a suitable French official to authorise access to a loaded collier already in port).

By failing to divide his forces so as to block the strait with firepower superior to the Germans' at each end, summoning reinforcements from Troubridge at the mouth of the Adriatic if necessary, Milne made his first major error. Hindsight enables us to see that it was also his biggest tactical mistake, with strategic consequences out of all proportion; but it should have been obvious to him at the time that if he was strong enough to block both ends at no added risk to himself or his fleet, he should have done so. While it might not have seemed remotely likely to him that Souchon would seek to link up with the Austrians, thus locking himself up in the Adriatic, Milne could not have known what orders the German admiral had received and should have catered for the possibility. Had he done so, he would coincidentally have frustrated the Germans' real purpose, of which he was entirely ignorant through no fault of his own, by a happy accident.

Urgency was not uppermost in Milne's mind after Souchon's second departure from Messina: he took his two battlecruisers to Malta to stock up on coal, although their bunkers contained enough to get them to the eastern
end of the Mediterranean
and back
, even at high speed. Souchon would doubtless have given his eye-teeth for such copious coal capacity. This was Milne's second major blunder. He took 17 hours at an average speed below 15 knots to reach Valletta, where
Indomitable
and her three destroyers rejoined his flag from Bizerta. On his way west at about ten a.m. on the 6th, Milne, ironically, received the following redundant message:

If
Goeben
goes south from Messina, you should follow through the Straits, irrespective of territorial waters.

As Captain John Kelly in the
Dublin
had left Malta with two destroyers at two p.m. on the 6th to join Troubridge, Milne diverted him to chase and attack the Germans with torpedoes. Both Kelly brothers coaxed more than their design speed out of their respective light cruisers. It has proved impossible to establish exactly how close John Kelly came to the
Goeben
that night before breaking off the chase, even as his brother Howard maintained contact with the Germans from astern. The
Dublin
sighted smoke – but it could just as well have been the
Gloucester
's
.
Now the Royal Navy's only chance to catch the
Goeben
lay with Rear-Admiral Troubridge in the Adriatic. But, as we saw, he sheered off his interceptive course – at about the moment the
Dublin
gave up the hunt, 2.55 a.m. GMT on the morning of 7 August. Shortly after dawn
Gloucester
was ordered by Milne to fall back to avoid capture. Howard Kelly reported later:

… as it was essential to know if the enemy were making for Egypt or for the Aegean Sea, it was considered permissible to continue shadowing.

The
Gloucester
therefore showed a rare initiative by carrying on against orders, and even engaged in an inconclusive exchange of fire with the
Breslau.
Just before that was broken off, Kelly received the order from Milne to abandon the pursuit due south of Cape Matapan, the southern extremity of Greece. This time he obeyed. At least one commander in the sorry saga of the Royal Navy and the
Goeben
had shown initiative and a Nelsonian fighting spirit. Souchon, although he did not know it yet, now had a clear run to Turkish waters.

Milne however had not quite given up the idea of going after him: the three battlecruisers and the light cruiser
Weymouth
set out from Malta in the first hour of 8 August, albeit at a stately 14 knots. At about noon the hapless admiral, in common with all other British naval commands and
ships at sea, received a short message: ‘Commence hostilities at once against Austria.' Three hours later came another: ‘Negative my telegram hostilities against Austria.' A signals clerk had blundered; Austria was not yet at war with the Entente (though it would be, soon enough). Milne's entirely correct reaction to this false alarm was to alter course northward to link up with Troubridge, so as to prevent the Austrian fleet from coming out of the Adriatic and getting between his eastbound ships and their base at Malta. The ever-cautious admiral also lost more time awaiting an answer to his querulous (but in the circumstances entirely justifiable) signal asking for confirmation of the cancellation. It took half an hour to arrive. Another half-hour after that there was a further message from the Admiralty: ‘With reference to the cancellation of telegram notifying war on Austria, situation is critical.' Milne had thus received three gratuitous answers to the unasked question as to whether he had to reckon with the Austrian fleet: Yes; No; and finally, Maybe! None of them should have been sent. All this embarrassing confusion took more than seven hours to resolve. Milne finally got round to resuming the ‘chase' of the Germans at lunchtime on 9 August, and then only on the direct order of the Admiralty: ‘Not at war with Austria. Continue chase of
Goeben
which passed Cape Matapan early on 7th steering north-east.'