Sergeant O'Leary, V.C., had a great reception when he returned to London in July on leave. A demonstration was held in Hyde Park by the United Irish League, and the hero, who was presented with a purse of gold, made a recruiting speech, in the course of which he said, "There are many others who have fought and are fighting, who have attempted and have done more than I for King and country. I have had the luck." In his own country the sergeant was enthusiastically received, and was so lionized that he said he must get back to the trenches to rest. At a banquet to his honour in his native county he asked for lemonade, and when some one thoughtlessly pressed him to take wine, he refused, and said that he must "keep fit." Not only did he receive the Victoria Cross at the hands of the King, but the highest awards for valour from the French and the Russian Government.
In this British book, written for British boys and girls, I naturally give the foremost place to the doings of British soldiers. We must, however, always remember that up to the middle of the year the British only held about one-twentieth of the Western battle-front. From La Bassée, through Arras, to Noyon, thence eastwards along the valley of the Aisne, in a wide curve round the fortress of Verdun, to the west bank of the Meuse, onwards to the Moselle, through Lorraine to the crests of the Vosges, and southwards to the borders of Switzerland—all this long and varied line was held by our French Allies. All through January and February they did not cease to nibble at the German trenches. In Champagne, in the section between the Meuse and the Moselle, and in Alsace, they were able to do more than nibble—they were able to seize many vantage points, and advance their front slowly but surely.
In January the chief centre of interest was in that part of the Aisne valley which lies to the north of the old city of Soissons.[7] You will remember that the Allies had captured the city, and the flat lands to the north of it, during the great advance in September 1914. Turn to the map on the next page and find the village of Cuffies.[8] On 18th January this village was in French hands, and so was the village of Crouy,[9] to the east of it. On the road from Soissons to Laon, and between Cuffies and Crouy, you will notice a spur of the plateau marked Hill 132.[10] To the south-east of Crouy there is another spur, marked 151. On 8th January the French made attacks on both these hills. They specially wished to capture Hill 132, because it would give them a gun position from which they could command the road to Laon.
In the drenching rain the French pushed forward, dragging their guns with great difficulty up the slippery slope. They carried three lines of German trenches, and were soon in possession of the hill. Meanwhile other troops had seized Hill 151. Though the Germans tried hard to recover the positions next day, they could not do so. Nothing happened on Sunday, 9th January; but on Monday, about noon, no less than two German corps, under von Kluck, were launched against the French, who were holding the hills. On the 12th the struggle grew very violent. The French were pushed off the eastern side of Hill 132, but with great difficulty they managed to cling to the western slopes.
During the four preceding days the weather had been very bad. Torrents of rain had descended without ceasing, and by the 12th the river was in high flood. It had been rising for days, and now it was swirling along like an angry torrent, threatening to carry away the only bridges by which the French could bring up reinforcements and ammunition. By the 13th all the bridges but two had been swept away, and the French decided to retreat across the river while they had the means of doing so.
They retired slowly and skilfully. Their batteries were withdrawn from the hills one by one, without letting the Germans know that they were being moved to the rear. The commander of one battery did not give the order to retire until the Germans were within five hundred yards of him. It was perilous and difficult work getting the guns down the steep slope. The gunners man-handled them until they reached the foot, and then they were limbered up and taken across a shaky pontoon bridge which had been thrown across the river at Missy. Guns on the right and centre had to be abandoned, but not before they were rendered useless.
By the evening of the 14th the Germans had advanced their line until they held the whole of the north bank of the Aisne from a mile east of Soissons to Missy. By this time the French, who only numbered 12,000, had been reduced to half their strength, and they had lost about twenty guns. Von Kluck had begun well, and, under the eye of the Kaiser, he now made a great effort to capture Soissons. Had he done so, he would have been in possession of a railway junction and the best bridge over the Aisne. He would also have been able to force the French to retire from the whole line of the river.
The floods had not reached Soissons, so the French were able to pour reinforcements into the city. A great struggle took place at the village of St. Paul, on the right bank of the river, about a mile to the east of Soissons. The Germans advanced in dense masses, and won the village; but the French artillery speedily drove them out, and von Kluck found that he could advance no further.
The Germans trumpeted abroad this little success as a smashing victory; but it was of no particular consequence, for they had only slightly improved their position, and in doing so had suffered a loss of at least 10,000 men. It was not so much German guns and rifles that drove the French from the spurs which they had won as the flooding of the river. Nature had fought for the Germans, but still they could not "make good." Some writers thought that it was very clever of von Kluck to postpone his big counter-attack until his enemies had a swollen river and flooded fields behind them; but the fact was that he could not attack earlier, because his reinforcements were late in arriving. The Germans owed their success not to good generalship, but to good luck.
We now come to that part of the French front on which the most successful attempts of the Allies were made during January and February. You have already heard of the little river Suippe, a tributary of the Aisne. Between the upper waters of this river and the Forest of the Argonne there is a chalk plain, dotted with plantations of firs and crossed by rolling downs. In many respects it resembles Salisbury Plain, and for many years has been put to the same use. Before the war it was the great training ground of French troops and the scene of their yearly manoeuvres. The plain is sparsely populated; scattered farms and straggling homesteads are few and far between, and lack of villages means lack of roads. After heavy rain the whole district is a sea of shallow mud; but the ground does not become water-logged, and as soon as the rain ceases the ground dries very quickly. Operations during the winter were therefore possible. General Joffre decided to nibble more vigorously on this plain than elsewhere.
Look at the little map on page 70. You notice a railway running from Ste. Menehould,[11] on the Aisne at the edge of the Argonne forest, to Rheims. By means of this railway the French troops operating on the plain were supplied with all their needs. The Germans relied on the line which you see running from Grand Pré in the Argonne to Bazancourt. The object of the French was to nibble at the German lines in the hope of pushing back the enemy and seizing this railway. If it could be cut or commanded, the Germans would be obliged to fall back along their whole line. At any rate, a French advance towards the railway would compel the enemy to waste men and shells, and would force him to keep in the region large forces which otherwise would have been sent to the East, where von Hindenburg was badly in need of assistance.
I want you to fix your attention on the little towns of Souain[12] and Perthes,[13] and the farm of Beau Séjour,[14] all of which are marked on the map. Beau Séjour, you will notice, is about 3½ miles east of Perthes. At the beginning of January the French line ran through Souain, south of Perthes and south of Beau Séjour. Almost every day during January the French attacked the German positions. They won a hill to the north of Perthes, which gave them the best gun position in the neighbourhood, and on the 16th of February a general advance began. The Germans held a strong post north of the farm, on a ridge between two little glens. On this ridge they had constructed a fort, which was held by about 500 men.
The French attacked on a plan which was soon to become the regular method of puncturing the German lines all along the Western front. Let me give you some account of this plan—the only possible method of capturing the strongly fortified trenches of the enemy without a terrible loss of life. As you know, the first obstacle to an attack on a line of trenches consists of the barbed wire entanglements which are fixed up in front of them. The attackers are held up by the network of wire, and can be shot down in droves by rifles and machine guns. Then the trench itself has a strong parapet, with loopholes through which the defenders fire on the attackers. For infantry to charge the barbed wire while the parapets are held by an enemy is to court almost certain disaster.
Study the diagram on page 67. AB is a line of trenches to be attacked, and X is a line of big guns. These guns throw a shower of high explosive shells on to the enemy's trenches. So terrible is the explosion that the barbed wire is blown into a thousand fragments, the parapets are beaten down, the whole trench is utterly wrecked, and the defenders are either killed or wounded, or so stunned by the violence of the bombardment that they cannot make much resistance. When this is done, the gunners lift their sights and lengthen their fuses, and behind the trench create at C a curtain of fire through which no enemy reinforcements can possibly pass. Then the attacking infantry rush forward and occupy the wrecked trench. They work away with their entrenching tools, make a new parapet facing the enemy's second line of trenches, and prepare to beat off counter-attacks. Trenches are thus captured by gun fire alone. You can easily understand that advances made in this way will be slow. Telephone wires have to be laid, ranges calculated, and a thousand details arranged before an assault can be made.
If such an attack is to succeed, two things are necessary. In the first place, the attackers must have many big guns and an almost unlimited supply of ammunition for them; and secondly, they must bring up their guns at X unknown to the enemy, and take him by surprise. If he is able to see the big guns being brought up, he will fire on them before they can be concealed. He will also mass his own guns, and the affair will become an artillery duel on a large scale. Happily, in Champagne the French were able to mass their guns secretly. Their airmen had become so expert that they were able to beat back all the German aircraft that attempted to scout over their lines, while at the same time they could fly over the German lines without much hindrance.
Here is a description of such an attack as seen by a British observer in Champagne:—
"Looking at the battle at a distance of about 2,000 yards from the enemy's lines, the stillness of what one sees is in marked contrast with the turmoil of shells passing overhead. The only movement is the cloud of smoke and earth that marks the burst of a shell. Here and there long white lines are visible when a trench has brought the chalky subsoil up to the top; but the number of trenches seen is very small compared with the number that exist, for one cannot see into the valleys, and the top of the ground is an unhealthy place to choose for sitting in a trench. The woods are pointed out, with the names given them by the soldiers; but it needs field-glasses to see the few stumps that remain when the artillery has done its work. And then a telephone message arrives, saying that the enemy are threatening a counter-attack at a certain point; and three minutes later there is a redoubled whistling of shells. At first one cannot see the result of this fire—the guns are searching the low ground where the enemy's reserves are preparing for the movement; but a little later the ground behind the threatened trenches becomes alive with shell bursts, for the searching has given place to the building up of a wall of fire, through which it is impossible for the foe to pass without enormous loss."
When a successful attack of this kind is to be made on a large scale, the work of the directing staff must be very perfect. Every trench in the line of attack must be thoroughly shelled at the same time. If certain trenches are left unwrecked, the infantry will be badly mauled when they move forward. Then all the guns of the attacking side must lift their sights and lengthen their fuses before the infantry reach the enemy's trenches, or the men will be caught by their own fire. Everything must work together like a well-oiled machine. A single mistake will be paid for by heavy loss of life.
Such was the general character of the attacks made by the French in Champagne during February. The ridge, which I have already described, was captured by French Colonial troops towards the end of January, after a month's struggle; but elsewhere progress was slow. About five yards a day was the average gain. One by one the little woods and ridges were carried, but as late as 24th March the French were not sufficiently near the railway from Grand Pré to Bazancourt to threaten it seriously. We must not, however, reckon the gains by the amount of ground which was won, but by the number of men which the enemy was obliged to maintain on this part of the front, and by the losses which he suffered. Some five and a half German corps, which were badly needed in the East, had to be massed in Champagne, and their losses were out of all proportion to those suffered by the French. It is said that the Germans lost 10,000 dead and 2,000 prisoners during these attacks. The famous Prussian Guard suffered very heavily at a point about three-quarters of a mile east of Beau Séjour, where two of their regiments were almost wholly destroyed. The Germans themselves admitted that their losses in Champagne were greater than those of the Battle of the Mazurian Lakes,[15] where they had some fourteen army corps engaged.
The severe fighting in Champagne drew off some or the Crown Prince's forces, and he was therefore obliged to slacken his efforts in the Forest of the Argonne. There, too, in January our Allies won a success by the capture of more than a mile of German trenches. It is interesting to note that the regiment of Italian volunteers which captured the trenches was led by Lieutenant-Colonel Garibaldi, a descendant of the famous Italian patriot who played such a large part in bringing about a united Italy. During this woodland fighting the Germans also had successes; but, generally speaking, there was a deadlock in this region. The real zones of fighting were to the west and east of the Forest.
The line which the French held from Beau Séjour to Switzerland during the first four months of the year 1915 made a wide curve round the fortress of Verdun, and then ran south across a wooded plateau to St. Mihiel, on the left bank of the Meuse. At St. Mihiel the Germans were clinging to a bridgehead which they had captured as far back as September 1914. From St. Mihiel the line crosses the river to the right bank, and then proceeds eastwards to the river Moselle. It then strikes south-eastwards to the crest of the Vosges mountains.
If you look at the map on the next page, you cannot fail to notice that St. Mihiel is the point of a very marked wedge or salient, something like that at Ypres, only with the point facing westwards instead of eastwards. A mile to the south of St. Mihiel the Germans had a strong position on high ground, called the Camp of the Romans, from which they could command the country for ten miles around. If you look at the map on the next page, you will see two railways within the salient. The one runs northwards from a place about five miles east of the Camp of the Romans, and crosses the French line at a village called Les Eparges;[16] the other runs northwards from a place about fifteen miles east of the Camp of the Romans, and runs along the valley of a tributary of the Moselle, past Thiaucourt,[17] until it reaches the main river, which it follows to Metz. The Germans had constructed a field railway, which enabled them to reach St. Mihiel from Thiaucourt.
The French nibbled unceasingly at this salient during the winter. Their object was to squeeze in its sides so as to capture the railways and force the enemy to withdraw from St. Mihiel. During February there was fierce fighting at Les Eparges, which was taken by the French along with a part of the neighbouring heights. At the same time they pressed northwards along the left bank of the Moselle, and won the Wood of the Priest, from which they bombarded the railway running through Thiaucourt. They also smashed the German bridges at St. Mihiel. Day by day they were pinching the German wedge more and more, and were threatening the railways by means of which the Germans were able to maintain themselves in this region.
The French were eager to capture the heights to the east of Les Eparges, because guns on these heights would command much of the northern part of the salient. The Germans, knowing how important these heights were to the French, had turned them into a very strong fortress. They had lined the steep slopes with trenches, and had honeycombed them with shelters and dug-outs. About 4 p.m. on 5th April, when the rain was falling heavily and the hillsides were sodden, the French made a great attack on these fortified heights. They gained some ground, but next morning they were driven back. That evening they made a second attempt, and by means of bayonet charges captured 1,500 yards of trenches, and gradually approached the summit.
Next morning the Germans brought up reinforcements, and strove with all their might to hurl the French down the slopes. The French guns, however, prevented the Germans from massing, while the German guns held off the French. On the morning of the 8th the French made another bold bid. They could scarcely keep their footing in the slime, and it is said that many of them were drowned in the mud. Never was an attack made under greater difficulties. Slipping in the greasy mud, buffeted by the wind, and almost blinded by the rain, the French advanced against endless machine guns posted at carefully-chosen points. So determined were the Germans to hold the position that they had chained the machine gunners to their weapons. After an hour's struggle the French won the summit, and managed to clear the Germans off the heights, except for a small triangle at the east end.
On the morning of the 9th French reinforcements struggled up the hillside. So violent was the storm, and so miry was the ground, that they took fourteen hours to reach their comrades. In the afternoon an assault was made on the eastern triangle, and the Germans were swept from it. A fog descended, under cover of which the Germans counter-attacked, and pushed the French back. But as soon as the fog lifted the French guns came into action, and another bayonet charge was made. By 10 p.m. the French held the whole of the spur, and were able to command the northern part of the salient. They had performed a notable feat of arms during five days of tempest. The German loss was estimated at more than 30,000.
Elsewhere the French also won ground. On the south side of the salient, where the country is covered with thick, scrubby woods, the fighting was very severe. Small gains were made, and by the month of May the French were about four miles from Thiaucourt, and were able to hurl shells from their heavy guns within the outer fortifications of Metz. It seemed that any further advance would endanger the whole position of the Germans at St. Mihiel, and force them to retreat towards the highlands west of Metz. Nevertheless, when the year 1915 came to an end, the Germans were still holding St. Mihiel, and the salient was theirs, though it had worn very thin.
Now let us briefly glance at the campaign in the Vosges.
Look closely at the map on the next page, and notice the river Ill, a tributary of the Rhine. Its most important feeder is the river Thur, which runs down a long glen. It was in the valley of this river that the French made their chief advances during the winter. On 3rd January the Chasseurs Alpins, fighting their way down the valley of the Thur, captured the village of Steinbach, which stands just where the mountains fall steeply to the Alsatian plain, about ten miles as the crow flies from Mulhouse. Steinbach, which had been converted by the enemy into a series of blockhouses, was only secured after ten days of deadly combat.
The French were trying to take Mulhouse in flank, and they had therefore to capture the village of Cernay, which blocked the way. Meanwhile another force attacked Altkirch, to the south of Mulhouse, and quite close to the Swiss border. During the fighting some of the shells actually fell on Swiss ground. The force advancing from Steinbach could not capture Cernay, so it turned to the south, and tried to seize the village of Burnhaupt in order to attack Mulhouse from another angle. The village was taken by the French; but was retaken, though with heavy loss, by the Germans. Strive as they would, the French could get no nearer to Mulhouse.
If you look to the north of Cernay, you will see a spur of the Vosges known as Hartmannsweilerkopf. It stands 2,000 feet above the plain, and consists of rugged rocks covered with pine trees. He who possesses the kopf can command a very large part of the plain, for he can shell many roads and railway lines. The French greatly coveted it, and they had already established a small advance post on it. Let me tell you how this post was lost and won again. Soon after the fighting at Altkirch, violent winter storms began to rage. Snow fell without ceasing for a fortnight, and the upper glens were choked with drifts. When the sky cleared the chasseurs donned their skis and made some daring raids on German posts in the hills. The Germans were active too. On 19th January, during a blinding snowstorm, they climbed Hartmannsweilerkopf and attacked the French post at the summit. Four companies of chasseurs made a most gallant attempt to relieve the defenders, and for two days fought fiercely amidst the icy rocks and snow-laden bushes. They could, however, make no headway, and the post was captured by the Germans on 21st January.
Not until the 27th of March was it recaptured. On that day the Chasseurs Alpins made a fierce onset and carried the last line of the German defence, which was protected by a blockhouse. Once more they were in possession. At once the Germans hurried up reinforcements from all parts of Alsace, and the order went forth that the position was to be recaptured at all costs. They attacked in dense masses with great courage, and were able to entrench themselves hurriedly on the edge of the summit and along the slopes. During the night, however, the French Alpine troops were reinforced, and by dint of tremendous efforts guns were dragged up the icy slopes to the top of the spur, and were placed in position on the right and left flanks of the enemy. Next morning the chasseurs attacked the Germans and drove them back, while the guns assailed them with a terrible fire. The enemy made a stubborn resistance and brought up fresh troops, specially trained for mountain warfare and supplied with mountain guns. For three days the struggle continued, and at the end of it the whole of the slopes were clear of the enemy. The recapture of the spur was a great feather in the French cap. Again and again during the year the Germans made efforts to seize it, and more than once it fell into their hands. Late in December the Germans claimed to have recovered the whole position, but this was denied by the French.
For the rest of the year the battle-front in Alsace showed but little change. The French held every gun position on the eastern slopes of the Vosges, and were in command of all the roads leading down to the plains. The Germans held the plain and its railways, and were able to oppose any movement from the mouths of the valleys towards the Rhine. The French had secured one great advantage. Should they wish to push towards the Rhine through the Gap of Belfort, their left flank was secure.
So far the Germans had failed hopelessly at sea. The battle off Coronel had been their only success, and the squadron that had achieved it was now no more. The bombardment of Scarborough, Whitby, and the Hartlepools had been hailed in Germany as a great victory, and the enemy loudly boasted that the British fleet no longer commanded the North Sea. We at home were filled with anger, but we showed no panic; while in America the bombardment of innocent townsfolk in unfortified places was held to be sheer murder, and there were many jeers at the German commanders who had struck foul blows at those who could not strike back, and had then run away. The German navy was covered with ridicule. It dared not come out and risk a battle, while to sit still and do nothing was to proclaim itself a mere sham.
The British fleet, ever since the beginning of the war, had stopped and searched all merchant ships bound for ports on the North Sea and the Baltic Sea, in order to ascertain whether they had on board contraband of war—that is, arms, ammunition, explosives, or other articles or materials which might be used against us. It is a rule of international law that if such goods are sent by a neutral to a State which is at war, they may be seized by the enemy of that State. We had sent lists to all neutrals setting forth the kinds of goods which we would not allow the enemy to receive, and our warships had discovered many vessels which were laden with such goods. These ships were taken into port, and a court sat to decide whether or not they were guilty of carrying contraband. If found guilty, they were seized by the State. You can easily understand that the trade of neutrals with our enemies almost came to an end. The exporters of New York, who were chiefly German-Americans, found their business falling off greatly, and they tried hard to stir up quarrels between the United States and Great Britain.
The United States had determined to be strictly neutral in the war. Most of the people were friendly to the Allies, but there were about four millions of Germans, Austrians, and Hungarians in the country, and many of them were strongly in favour of the Central Powers. Germany sent agents to stir up these people, and to do everything in their power to bring about quarrels between Great Britain and the States.
The Germans, as you know, were powerless on the seas, while we were all-powerful. From the States we imported large quantities of munitions of war. The Americans would gladly have sent munitions to Germany also, but as no German ship dared cross the Atlantic, the Germans were altogether cut off from this source of supply; hence their anger with the United States. We shall see later that the German agents in the States committed all sorts of crimes in the hope of stopping the manufacture of munitions and preventing their export to Great Britain.
About a week after the Hartlepools raid, von Tirpitz, who was then at the head of the German Admiralty, told the Americans that they had stopped their trade with Germany because Great Britain had ordered them to do so, and he asked them how they would like to see all trade with Britain stopped by German submarines. Then came the Battle of the Dogger Bank, in which the German vessels scuttled for home as soon as they sighted the British fleet, but in the course of their flight lost the Bluecher. It was after this discreditable affair that von Tirpitz decided to carry out his threat. He gave notice to the President of the United States that on and after 18th February the waters surrounding the British Isles would be considered to be within the seat of war, and that all enemy merchant ships found in these waters would be sunk by German submarines. He also said that it might not always be possible to save the crews and the passengers of these ships, and that neutral vessels within this zone of war would be exposed to danger, and might even be sunk. To this the President replied, begging Germany to consider carefully before taking any such action, and warning her that the destruction of a United States ship or the death of American citizens would be considered an unfriendly act which might lead to war. The President then went on to point out that, until a blockade—that is, a complete stoppage of sea trade—could be carried into effect, the sole right which fighting nations possessed with regard to neutrals was to visit and search their ships in order to discover whether or not they were carrying contraband, and, if so, to bring them into port, where a court would adjudge them guilty or not guilty.
Of course, the German submarines could not completely blockade the coasts of the British Isles, nor could they take into port the ships which they stopped and searched. In the latter case they might be justified in sinking the ships, but they would be guilty of crime if they did not save the crews and passengers. A submarine cannot possibly take off the crews of merchant vessels, for it has no accommodation for them. Von Tirpitz's plan was piracy, and nothing else. In order to find an excuse, the Germans declared that all the wheat and flour coming into Germany from abroad belonged to the Government. The British now seized the cargoes of ships thus laden, because they were the property of an enemy Government. Then the Germans began to call heaven and earth to witness that Great Britain was trying to starve German women and children. Horrible pictures were painted of innocent people perishing of hunger. A German newspaper put the enemy's view in a nutshell when it said, "England wants to employ every means to shorten the war. The number of lives that would be lost if she could starve Germany is nothing to her. . . . Whether we wish it or not, we must seek to destroy England's life-nerve—namely, her merchant shipping." How she attempted to do this we shall read in the next chapter.
The Germans were quite right in speaking of our mercantile marine as our "life-nerve." In 1913 we had nearly 39,600 merchant vessels, with a tonnage of more than 14,000,000 tons. You will get some idea of the vastness of our overseas trade when I tell you that the tonnage of ships owned in Liverpool alone exceeds that of the German Empire. On an average about 1,400 merchant vessels enter and leave our ports every week. This means that the submarines which were now going to destroy our "life-nerve" were presented with about two hundred targets a day.
You must not suppose that the Germans waited until 18th February to begin their attacks on our merchant vessels. Early in February the German submarine U21 appeared in the Irish Sea, and proceeded to sink three small ships. On the same day other enemy submarines sank ships in the English Channel, one of them, the Toko Maru, being laden with mutton, stores, and clothing for Belgian refugees. Between "Pirate Day," 18th February, and 11th April, fifty-eight ships were attacked, most of which were sent to the bottom. Neutral as well as British ships were sunk by the submarines, several of them without warning. Sometimes the officers gave ten minutes' grace to allow passengers and crews to take to the boats; but in other cases the ships were sunk at sight, and more than once shells were fired at men in the boats who were trying to rescue their comrades struggling in the water. Frequently fast steamers escaped, and more than one vessel charged down on the attacking submarine. The Thordis, for example, crashed at full speed into the submarine which threatened her off Beachy Head, and sent it to the bottom.
On 1st March Great Britain declared a blockade of Germany. By this time it was apparent that as a means of reducing our food supply or weakening our determination to continue the war, Germany's submarine "blockade" had proved to be a failure. Between 18th February and the middle of August less than one and a half per cent. of our ships were sunk, and we went on our way quite unmoved. Neutral countries, however, saw clearly what Germany's command of the sea would mean to them. The American nation was soon to be roused to the highest pitch of indignation by one of the foulest crimes ever committed.
Already four American ships had been destroyed by the Germans, and several American citizens had been drowned. On 27th March the British steamer Falaba was sunk off the Pembrokeshire coast with a loss of 112 lives, including that of an American. The Germans did not wait until all the boats had been lowered before firing a torpedo into the steamer's side, and then, not content with sending so many helpless people to their doom, they watched them struggling in the icy waters without lifting a hand to help them. It is even said that they mocked and jeered at the drowning men and women. "This is not war; it is murder," said the New York Times. This crime, however, was soon to be outdone.
On May 7, 1915, the Cunard liner Lusitania was steaming a few miles south-west of the old Head of Kinsale, on her homeward voyage to Liverpool. She was one of the largest and finest liners afloat. She was totally unarmed, and she carried passengers and crew to the number of 1,906, many of them being citizens of the United States. Before she left New York her passengers had been warned that the Germans meant to sink her. Nobody, however, dreamed that even Germans could descend to such depths of infamy.
As the Lusitania approached the Irish coast she received a message from the Admiralty warning her that German submarines were in the neighbourhood. She had reduced her speed to eighteen knots, so as not to arrive at the Mersey bar before the tide was high enough to enable her to cross. An artist who was saved thus described what happened:—