Chapter 24 : Naval Matters

Mark Kerr did not like what he saw. It was just as Summers had described: the Naval School was too isolated, too open to attack and, though he hated to admit it, the atmosphere was too easy going. The fault, he soon concluded, was on both sides. With some notable exceptions, the British instructors were using their tenure as no more than a paid holiday. And the Greeks, having just fought and won two wars, were inclined to the belief that they had reached a satisfactory level of competence and that no more wars needed to be fought. Kerr knew otherwise. Soon, and certainly no later than the spring of 1914, there would be a war against Turkey over the disputed Aegean Islands. And, unlike the Balkan Wars, this would be entirely naval in character. It would be the ideal chance for him to put into action his plan of flotilla work, supported by submarines; and also to utilize the novel idea he had been formulating for some months — aerial bombardment of ships at sea.

                The Admiral had been fascinated with the martial application of aircraft ever since, almost two years previously, he had witnessed Charles Samson, precariously seated amidst the wires and struts of an ungainly hydro-aeroplane (so that it almost appeared that the machine had been constructed around him), clatter down the ramp on the foredeck of HMS Africa. It had seemed impossible at first that the flimsy craft could gain sufficient forward momentum to stay in the air once it had left the safety of the ship’s deck. By common consent, it was felt that the aeroplane would continue its downward trajectory from the top of the ramp perched on the forward twelve-inch turret and continue in a straight line into the sea. To general astonishment, the aeroplane had clearly become airborne even before it had left the ramp and, after a few circuits, during which the ship’s crew had raced from one side to the other to follow his progress, Charles Samson had alighted delicately on the leeward side of Africa, removed his goggles and looked up at the crew lining the deck as if the feat were an everyday occurrence. Following that comprehensive demonstration the natural inertia of the higher echelons of the Navy took hold and little progress had been made. But Kerr had been fired by what he saw that day and had determined that, sooner rather than later, he too would learn to fly. He would become the first Admiral to hold an airman’s certificate.

                Already he had received his first instructions in operating the new flying machines, having quickly noticed that there was a small Air Station at Eleusis, which provided almost perfect conditions for flights out across the Bay. He would complete his training, which he anticipated would occupy him for a few hours only, and then be ready for the projected war. He even contemplated staying ashore when the war broke out, sending his fleet out to meet the Turks, and then, at the appropriate moment, taking off and conducting the battle from the air. That should prove something to those in the Admiralty who had recently overlooked his qualifications for the vacant post of Second Sea Lord.

                The flagship of the Greek Fleet, the armoured cruiser Averoff, was anchored off shore as Kerr completed his inspection of the Naval School and, at first sight, she was a disappointment to the Admiral. His own strictures apart, he still felt that his position as Commander-in-Chief warranted a battle cruiser at the very least. Averoff was not only small, she was also outdated and would be no match for the super-Dreadnought that was being built in England for the Turks, and which was scheduled for delivery to Constantinople the following year. Certainly, the Greeks had ordered a battle cruiser of their own, Salamis, but that was from the German yard, Vulkan, and, from what he had heard, the original completion date was likely to be put back way beyond the date at which the Turks would acquire their massive ship.

                There was one other aspect of his new command which gave the Admiral cause for concern: the reaction of Condouriotis, the senior Greek Admiral, to a foreigner usurping his command. Condouriotis was an intimate of the King; so, thought Kerr, he could appeal to that quarter should there be any hint of difficulty. But why should there be any difficulty? Kerr had only just commenced his new posting and, like all men in such a situation, could see nothing but great things. The Greeks, he reasoned, would not have wanted him had they not wanted to listen to what he had to offer. He had seen enough for one day. After informing Summers that changes to the routine would be necessary, the Admiral returned to the Piraeus and, from there, to Athens where, it being too late to report his preliminary findings to the Legation, he returned to his hotel room to work on the new scheme for the Greek Navy.

                The small desk in his room was rapidly filling with papers when he was disturbed by a knock at the door. It was Tommy Cuninghame’s wife, come to ask the Admiral to an informal gathering downstairs. Kerr cried off, a little too brusquely, returned to his work and then, thinking it over, decided it would be better not to get off on the wrong side of any of his colleagues. Besides, from what he had heard, Montgomery-Cuninghame was also one of the King’s men, unlike Elliot and Beaumont who, Kerr was convinced from his initial meeting, were a little too enamoured of Monsieur Venizelos, a mistake he did not want to make. The Admiral bundled up his papers, locked them away in the desk drawer, checked his appearance, and made his way downstairs.

                After he had located Lady Cuninghame and made his apology Kerr sought out the Military Attaché, eventually finding him deep in conversation with Monsieur Deville, the French Minister.

                ‘… But I tell you, the Bulgarians are finished — finished! You won’t hear any more out of them for ages. I myself saw some of their troops after the final clash at Kilkus. No fight left in them! It’ll take years to train up a proper army again.’ Tommy Cuninghame was known for the forcefulness with which he held his opinions. Once formed, nothing would prevent him from maintaining his convictions in the face of all argument.

                ‘But Colonel, already they are re-equipping. The Germans … ’ Monsieur Deville should have known better.

                ‘You can’t run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, Minister. The Germans are already supplying the Turks and, if my information is correct, have some dealings with the Greeks. They simply haven’t the capacity to supply all the Balkan States, Serbia excepted of course, and still produce enough for themselves. And they won’t denude their own forces, of that you can be sure.’

                ‘The Navy is different, is it not? I understand … ’

                ‘Certainly their is the Turkish battleship being built in England but that is only because we currently produce the best large warships; but where do all the Turks’ smaller ships come from? Where did the Greeks go for their battle cruiser? To Germany, not because they are the best ships, but because the cost is subsidized by the Imperial Government. I tell you, in a straight fight, the German ship is no match for the British. Don’t believe me — here is just the man to answer these questions. Admiral Kerr, may I introduce the French Minister, Monsieur Deville.’

                The small, finely sculpted Frenchman seemed glad of the chance to be spared from further of Tommy Cuninghame’s opinions: ‘It is a pleasure, Admiral. I was very sorry to see your predecessor depart but equally his loss is your gain. I hope you will content here. I have to warn you, however, that upon their Navy both the King and Monsieur Venizelos have very definite opinions. If your vision coincides with theirs, well and good. If not, you may be forced to work under the trying conditions which were the lot of Admiral Tufnell. Colonel Cuninghame believes that it will be your service which is next involved in the fighting. For myself, I think the common people in the Balkans have had enough of fighting. But I am continually surprised by my misreading of human nature where these people are involved.’

                ‘It’s in their blood,’ declared Cuninghame forcefully.

                ‘I disagree,’ ventured Kerr. ‘In fact I rather side with the Minister. Perhaps they are quick to pick up arms if they feel an injustice has been done to them, but I do not feel these people are any more or less bellicose than the English or the French.’

                ‘I notice,’ the Minister replied, ‘you leave the Germans out of that equation.’

                ‘I have often wondered if there is something in their blood, some element in their makeup, which makes them naturally more aggressive. I have to say that, ultimately, I do not know.’

                And so the conversation continued along more or less predictable lines. Monsieur Deville, ready to see the best in any situation; Tommy Cuninghame, convinced that things would always get worse; and Mark Kerr, shifting from one viewpoint to the other like a small yacht tacking in a stiff breeze. When he felt he had made amends for his previous lack of courtesy the Admiral quietly left the party and returned to his room for another hour’s work on his notes before retiring.

At the Legation the following morning Beaumont was able to inform the Admiral that Venizelos desired a meeting as soon as it could be arranged, that very day if possible. Kerr declared how much he would look forward to the interview then, as Beaumont settled back in his chair, preparatory to his pipe-lighting routine, the Admiral inquired, as nonchalantly as he could, whether Beaumont knew of a Major Samson?

                ‘Why yes, do you know him?’

                ‘I believe I do. We met a few years ago when I was the Naval Attaché in Constantinople. I eventually returned to sea duty but I understand Samson stayed on out here. Rather bitten by the bug, I gather.’

                ‘Well, I don’t quite know how to put this, Admiral, but Major Samson is the officer I mentioned the day before yesterday — the one who was badly injured. He is in no danger now, but faces a long period of convalescence. I’m sure he would appreciate a visit from you. He has a regular visitor every afternoon; perhaps you could go early in the evening? I know that he becomes slightly depressed towards sunset. I think the onset of night reinforces his loneliness.’ Beaumont noted down the address of the clinic and handed it to Kerr. ‘To return to naval matters, Admiral. If I were you I should pay a visit also on Monsieur Stratos at the Ministry of Marine before your visit to the Premier. It would be as well to have both sides of the story. Stratos is a decent chap and he has indicated that his door will always be open to you.’

                Unsure whether this was no more than friendly advice or a gentle hint, Kerr took his leave of Beaumont, telephoned to make sure Stratos was available and then walked out into the sunshine, across the small shaded square, and into the adjoining building, which housed the Ministry. Kerr was ushered into Stratos’ office and immediately liked what he saw. The Greek Minister of Marine had a thoroughly efficient air about him and a welcoming expression.

                ‘My dear Admiral, how very good of you to see me so soon after your arrival. How was your trip? What route did you take? Is your wife with you? What are your impressions of our navy?’ Kerr could do no more than smile at the stream of questions. ‘I do apologize Admiral! I sometimes get carried away, but these are interesting times, are they not? You have arrived in Athens at a fascinating moment in our history. Can I speak frankly, Admiral?’ Kerr nodded. ‘The Turks are a spent force just now. There is no vitality left in them. Forget Adrianople — their troops walked in unopposed. It would be different in a real fight. The coup earlier this year has brought Enver Pasha to the fore and he has spent the succeeding months selling his country to his masters in Berlin. Nevertheless, I have it on high authority — this is to go no further than these walls you understand — that certain elements within the Wilhelmstrasse wish to divest themselves of Ottoman entanglements. It is only the presence of Enver which prevents them from acting right now to cut their losses. Where did the much-vaunted German Military Mission get the Turks in the recent wars? What an advertisement for German military prowess! Look at the Baghdad Railway: for ten years there has been argument as to who is to control the line and meanwhile, as the Turks have given a kilometric guarantee, the line becomes ever more circuitous. What is all this leading to?’ the Minister asked rhetorically as he lit another cigarette. ‘There will be war between my country and Turkey over the disputed Aegean Islands. It is a war we must win, Admiral. And, by its very nature, at least initially, it will be principally a naval war. If we can defeat the Turkish fleet in this war not only do we consolidate our claims to the islands by the process of force majeur but we also lay the Asiatic Coast open to attack by our troops. Look … ’ Stratos unfolded a map on the desk and prodded the island of Mitylene with a stubby, manicured finger. ‘We use Mitylene as our advance base. We congregate our troops there in great secrecy. From there we can launch an attack against Adramyti, at the head of the Gulf. Once established there, we have the choice: move south to capture Smyrna, or push north and attack the Dardanelles’ forts in the rear. By threatening to close the Straits we put pressure on the Russians, and thereby force the Turks to capitulate for fear of Russian intervention. You know perhaps how the Russians thirst for the Bosphorus! But to achieve all this we must have naval supremacy in the Aegean! We cannot move our troops without it!’ The Minister spoke in exclamation marks.

                As Stratos paused for breath, Kerr at last felt able to speak: ‘By all accounts your Fleet performed very well in the recent wars.’

                ‘I do not deny it, Admiral. You will find Condouriotis extremely able, and, if I may add, also a little ambitious. No matter how able, though, there is only so much one can do when the most powerful ship at one’s disposal is a small cruiser, while the enemy will soon possess super-dreadnoughts.’

                Kerr reacted sharply to the Minister’s announcement: ‘Did you say “dreadnoughts” — more than one? I am aware, naturally, of Reshadieh. I personally made a visit to Barrow-in-Furness to inspect the ship … ’

                ‘To see what you might one day be up against?’

                ‘As you say, Minister, one day. From my discussion with the Dockyard Superintendent, the vessel will not be ready till August or September next year; that gives us almost a year’s grace.’

                ‘Then you do not know about Rio de Janeiro?’

                ‘Forgive me, Minister, is she not the Brazilian ship being constructed on the Tyne?’

                ‘Was, Admiral — was! The Brazilians can no longer afford her; the price of rubber has plummeted … but that is neither here nor there. I warned your Mr Churchill in May that this might happen. He obviously did not take my warning seriously enough. At the time, our agents in Constantinople were convinced the deal was as good as done between the Turks and the Brazilians; but nothing happened immediately. It is only a supposition, but I would hazard a guess that initially the Turks could not come up with the asking price. Then, a few weeks ago, we received a very confidential approach from a go-between acting for the Brazilian Government inquiring as to whether we would be interested in the vessel. Naturally, we said “yes” — so long as we could raise the finance. I understand however, that the Italians were also approached at more or less the same time and that another invitation to bid was sent to Constantinople. The Brazilians, you see, are desperate for the money to avoid defaulting on their loan, so it is to be a race this time: the first country to come up with the asking price secures the ship. The Brazilians have been very clever. They know that neither we, nor the Italians, nor the Turks, could afford to let the ship go to one of the other interested parties, no matter what the cost. They are bound, now, to find a buyer. Even if it bankrupts us, which it will almost certainly do, we must have that ship. Monsieur Venizelos has been pressing the French Government to increase the amount of the loan we are negotiating in Paris to cover the cost, but I have reason to believe, personally, that he is using the threat of the ship perhaps ending up in our enemy’s hands as a pretext to try to extract better terms for the loan. If so, it is foolishly irresponsible. While he dithers, the Turks are active. But do not tell him I said so! However, you must impress upon him that we must have that ship, Admiral. We cannot count on holding out until the arrival of Salamis.’

                ‘How long have we got?’

                Stratos, without betraying a hint of surprise, was nevertheless gratified by Kerr’s use of “we”. ‘It is September now; we have been given two months to find the money. By the end of the year, unless your own Admiralty steps in to prevent the sale, the ship will be sold to whoever is able to place the required down payment.’

                Kerr looked slightly abashed. ‘I meant, Sir, how long before the Brazilian ship is complete?’

                ‘Oh yes, I see. Of course, you have to make calculations — August 1914, Admiral. Some time in that month the ship will set sail from Newcastle bound for either Messina, or the Piraeus, or the Golden Horn. If we are the successful purchasers the arrival of Rio de Janeiro in the Piraeus in August next year will give us naval supremacy for at best a month — until the arrival, a few weeks later, of Reshadieh at Constantinople. Then there will be parity. If the Italians succeed the position vis a vis Turkey is unchanged but still we must act before the end of August. If the Turks succeed … if the Turks succeed, all our islands will be lost to us. Our own battle cruiser, Salamis, cannot possibly be ready until 1915 because of a delay with the guns. My predecessor had the inspired idea of ordering a ship from a North German yard with guns to be built in America! Can you imagine it, Admiral? It is thanks to that decision I am sitting before you today! No, we must act before next August. By that time we must be firmly established on the coast of Asia Minor. I want you, therefore, to prepare a plan for the naval assault of Adramyti and also for the protection of the forward base and supply lines from attack by one — or possibly two — Turkish dreadnoughts. We must assume the worst. Can you do that?’

                This was the moment Kerr had been waiting for, ever since his first interview with Churchill. ‘I have been working already on a scheme for flotilla work, Minister. I have had long talks over the years with our Admiral Fisher,’ (Kerr paused, to allow the Minister to visualize the scene and to impress upon him the Admiral’s standing within the British naval establishment) ‘and we are in agreement that the days of the capital ship are numbered. Just think, Minister, one torpedo from a submarine costing tens of thousands of pounds can sink a dreadnought costing nearly two millions. I will make the Aegean a Greek lake! The Turks will not dare venture out even should they possess a fleet of dreadnoughts.’

                ‘I am pleased you think that way Admiral. One thing, however: I would caution against imparting any of this conversation to Monsieur Venizelos. Confine yourself to generalities and platitudes. The Premier is an impressionable man; sometimes he is carried away with the great idea.’ The Minister carefully folded the map which contained details of the Adramyti Scheme and locked it in a small safe. Stratos then inquired: ‘By the way Admiral: your idea about submarines — might not this also occur to the Turks? Then, if we and the Turks both do away with all our ships and rely on submarines, where does that get us? Surely there is something a submarine fears?’

                Kerr’s eyes twinkled: ‘I’m working on that, Minister! In the shallow waters of the Aegean a submarine is quite visible from the air … ’

                ‘How does that benefit us?’

                ‘Aerial depth charges! It is the next big advance. Thank you for your time, Minister.’

                Monsieur Stratos, who thought he had heard everything, was speechless. Kerr left the Minister’s office and walked back to the Legation. Beaumont was crossing the entrance hall as Kerr sidled in: ‘Well — how did you find Stratos?’

                Kerr, still distracted, waited a few seconds before acknowledging the presence of the First Secretary: ‘The job is bigger than I thought, Beaumont. Tell me, is Stratos’ position within the Government secure?’

                ‘A curious question, Admiral. Yes, I believe it is. The former Minister made rather a mess of the position. Stratos inherited a difficult brief but has handled it well; he is safe for the foreseeable future, so long as the Turks do not embark on any adventures. Do you anticipate any problems working with him?’

                ‘On the contrary. I think we shall get along fine. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather postpone the meeting with the Prime Minister; at least for a couple of days. Can you make the excuses? Tell him I am working on a plan which I want to complete before laying it before him.’

                ‘What are you up to?’

                ‘Nothing, I assure you. In any event, I want to find a house to rent — it is a matter of some urgency. My wife arrives next week. I have to have found something by then. I wish to make a start this afternoon.’

                Beaumont was not entirely convinced by the Admiral’s profession of innocence. ‘Rendel or Goodhart will help, if you wish Admiral. Their Chancellery duties are very light at the moment. I will ask one of them to accompany you.’