Castles of Steel (102 page)

During the first months of war, when the offensive mission of German submarines was to locate and attack the British fleet and to sink British troop transports moving across the Channel, Allied merchant shipping was left mostly alone. Nevertheless, U-boat commodore Hermann Bauer, closely questioning his captains on their return to base, learned that through their periscopes these young officers were watching a heavy flow of seaborne commercial traffic moving along the English coasts. Early in October, Bauer reported these observations to his superior, Ingenohl. Stressing the deadly potential of using submarines to attack British trade, Bauer argued the uselessness of keeping the bulk of the U-boat fleet parked in defensive circles around Heligoland. Ingenohl, impressed, forwarded Bauer’s recommendation to the Chief of the Naval Staff, Hugo von Pohl. “From a purely military point of view,” Ingenohl wrote, “a campaign of submarines against commercial traffic on the British coasts will strike the enemy at his weakest point and will make it evident . . . that his power at sea is insufficient to protect his imports.” Pohl agreed that unleashing the U-boats against merchant shipping could usefully harm Great Britain, but he hesitated; submarine warfare against commerce would be a violation of international maritime law, to which Article 112 of the German Naval Prize Regulations conformed. Further, any accidental destruction of neutral merchant vessels might provoke neutral nations into war with Germany. Accordingly, it seemed to Pohl, U-boat warfare against merchant ships could be justified only as a reprisal for some flamboyantly heinous act by the enemy. Therefore, without consulting any political leaders, Pohl decided to ignore Ingenohl’s proposal.

The British Admiralty’s declaration of November 2, declaring the whole of the North Sea a war zone, dramatically changed Pohl’s point of view. An effort to stop shipments of conditional contraband now appeared as a gross violation of international law and the beginning of a campaign to starve the German people. Accordingly, two days after the British declaration was published, Pohl reversed himself and laid before the German chancellor a proposal for submarine warfare against commerce.

The concept of using submarines as blockading ships was technologically revolutionary and raised numerous problems. To follow the procedures of eighteenth-century sailing-ship days, the U-boat would have to surface, halt its intended prey by either a signal or a warning shot with its deck gun, send a boarding party to the vessel to establish its nationality, and, if it was an enemy, make adequate provisions for the safety of the crew and passengers before sinking it. It being patently impossible for a small, crowded U-boat to take aboard the crew and passengers of a large ship, the best that could be done was that they be allowed to enter their lifeboats before their ship was destroyed. If this happened far from land, with crew and passengers left to fend for themselves in open boats, such arrangements did not meet the requirements of international maritime law.

Ultimately, U-boat warfare was refined into one or another of two basic operational strategies: restricted and unrestricted. “Restricted” submarine warfare meant that U-boats, before torpedoing enemy merchant vessels, would surface, warn their victims, and give them time to abandon ship. All neutral ships would be spared, and passenger liners of all nations, even enemies, might be spared. “Unrestricted” U-boat warfare meant that all the old formalities of “visit and search” would be ignored and that German U-boats would torpedo without warning all merchant and passenger ships, armed or unarmed, neutral or enemy, without distinguishing between absolute and conditional contraband and without regard for the fate of crew or passengers. The argument for this seemingly barbaric method of warfare rested, ironically, on the frailty of the attacking craft: U-boats were small, slow, unarmored warships, armed only with a small deck gun and a few torpedoes; their primary defense was their ability to operate hidden underwater; once surfaced to stop and examine a merchant vessel and wait while the crew boarded lifeboats, a submarine became the most vulnerable of all warships. For this reason, most German naval officers not only endorsed Bauer’s and Pohl’s proposal, but wished to go immediately to unrestricted submarine warfare. “The gravity of the situation,” said Admiral Scheer, “demands that we should free ourselves from all scruples which certainly no longer have any justification.”

When the German chancellor, Theobald von Bethmann-Hollweg, first heard Admiral von Pohl’s proposal, he was inclined to endorse it. “Viewed from the standpoint of international law, U-boat warfare is a reprisal against England’s hunger blockade,” he wrote to Pohl in December 1914. “When we consider the purely utilitarian rules by which the enemy regulate their conduct, [when we consider] their ruthless pressure on neutrals . . . we may conclude that we are entitled to adopt whatever measure of war is most likely to bring them to surrender.” This was the pragmatic chancellor speaking, the man who a few months before had deplored Britain’s entry into the war merely to uphold “a scrap of paper”—the treaty in which Great Britain had promised to defend Belgian neutrality. But while the chancellor saw nothing illegal or immoral in the proposed U-boat campaign, he argued that the decision must be made on practical grounds, involving political as well as military considerations. He feared that a U-boat blockade of Britain would provoke neutral nations and therefore could be employed only when Germany’s military position on the Continent was so secure that there could be no doubt as to the ultimate outcome; once this was achieved, the navy could do as it wished because the intervention of neutral states would have no impact. Now—in December 1914—Bethmann-Hollweg told Pohl, these conditions did not exist.

The kaiser was not ready to approve a submarine campaign and he supported the chancellor. William was well aware that neutral as well as Allied ships were carrying contraband war material from America to Britain and France, and he deeply resented this fact. He feared, on the other hand, that indiscriminate sinkings by U-boats would poison relations with Holland and Scandinavia and might pitch Germany into war with the United States. William’s gentler, more sentimental side also played a part. Unrestricted submarine warfare and the killing of civilians at sea conflicted with his notion of chivalry and his own self-image as a knightly figure. Wearing this mantle, he told a group of admirals in November 1914, “Gentlemen, always realize that our sword must be clean. We are not waging war against women and children. We wish to fight this war as gentlemen, no matter what the other side may do. Take note of that!”

William was reluctant to use such moderate language when speaking to Tirpitz, of whom he was somewhat afraid. The following day, he explained defensively to the Grand Admiral that while he did not object to submarine warfare in itself, he was determined to wait until it could be waged effectively. Pohl, on the other hand, was a small man who possessed little power to intimidate, but had a large talent for guile. On December 14, only three weeks after the kaiser had said no, Pohl returned with a more specific U-boat campaign proposal: planning would be completed by the end of January; a declaration would give ample cautionary notice to neutrals; U-boat operations would begin at the end of February. Again, Bethmann-Hollweg objected. Why provoke antagonism just when Britain, by its coercive blockade, was exasperating most of Europe’s neutrals? At this point, Pohl received unexpected help. A month before, when Tirpitz had realized that his imperial master did not intend to risk his prized dreadnoughts, the Grand Admiral had begun to champion the idea of submarine warfare as the only alternative means by which England’s power at sea might be broken. On December 21, German newspapers published an interview given by Tirpitz at the end of November to Charles von Wiegand, a German-born American journalist. The circumstances of the interview had been unusual: Tirpitz received Wiegand in his bedroom at German Supreme Headquarters at Charleville in occupied France and the Grand Admiral sat in a chair beside his unmade bed. Before speaking, he asked the reporter to submit the interview to the Foreign Ministry for clearance. Wiegand agreed, and Tirpitz plowed ahead. “America has raised no protest and has done little or nothing to stop the closing of the North Sea against all neutral shipping,” he said. “Now what will America say if Germany institutes a submarine blockade of England to stop all traffic?”

Wiegand asked whether such a measure was contemplated.

“Why not, if we are driven to extremities? England is endeavoring to starve us. We can do the same, cut off England and sink every vessel that attempts to break the blockade.” Once the transcription was in his notebook, Wiegand failed to submit it to the Foreign Ministry, and Tirpitz never bothered to inform the chancellor or to mention the matter to Pohl. When Wiegand published his story in a Dutch newspaper, Bethmann-Hollweg had no choice but to permit publication in Germany. Tirpitz, learning that the kaiser was irritated, breezily explained that “he wished to sound American opinion on the submarine war.”

The interview reverberated through the German press. Many Germans, accepting the famous Grand Admiral as the nation’s foremost authority on naval affairs, now believed that a decision was imminent to use submarines against enemy merchant shipping and that this would soon bring a victorious end to the war. A stream of articles and papers appeared, written by “eminent financiers, shipping and industrial magnates, politicians, scientists and university academics, urging [the government] not to be deterred from using a decisive weapon by false misgivings.” Pohl, hoping to capitalize on this public support, came to Supreme Headquarters at Charleville on January 7, 1915, and once again presented his submarine proposals to the kaiser and the chancellor. Again, Bethmann-Hollweg opposed Pohl’s plan, arguing that the uncertainty of the neutrals still made U-boat warfare too risky. Again, the kaiser supported the chancellor and opted for postponement. However, William gave indirect and unintentional backing to Pohl’s proposal when, on the same day, he issued his order forbidding Admiral von Ingenohl to engage the High Seas Fleet in a major fleet action. This command confirmed U-boat warfare against commerce as Germany’s only naval offensive option.

Pohl did not give up. On February 1, buttressed by the fact that he had been chosen to succeed Ingenohl as Commander-in-Chief of the High Seas Fleet, he repeated his submarine proposal to Bethmann-Hollweg for the fourth time. When the chancellor reiterated his concern that submarine warfare would antagonize America and other neutrals, Pohl replied that if the proclamation of a German war zone frightened away neutral shipping, as the naval authorities assumed it would, then, by definition, diplomatic confrontation with neutrals would not occur. Further, at this interview, Pohl deliberately lied to the chancellor: he had never set foot in a submarine at sea, but he claimed, falsely, that the U-boat captains would be able to distinguish between enemy and neutral ships and that only enemy ships would be sunk. Hearing this, Bethmann-Hollweg said he would raise no further objections. For Pohl, the rest was easy. When Admiral Gustav Bachmann relieved Pohl as Chief of the Naval Staff, he was informed by his predecessor that the launching of a German submarine campaign had been approved at the highest level and that the kaiser did not wish the matter to be raised again. The kaiser’s consent, of course, had not been given, but Pohl knew how to secure it. February 4, 1915, was Pohl’s last day as Chief of the Naval Staff and his first as Commander-in-Chief of the High Seas Fleet. In bright winter sunshine, the kaiser arrived in Wilhelmshaven to attend the change-of-command ceremony. As a launch carried him across the harbor to visit the battle cruiser
Seydlitz,
damaged at the Dogger Bank, Pohl, standing with the kaiser in the stern of the boat, took the submarine war order from an inner pocket and handed it to William to sign. The kaiser, excited by the presence of so many colorful uniforms against a background of giant gray warships, scribbled his name. The following morning, the declaration was published in the official
Imperial Gazette:

The waters surrounding Great Britain and Ireland including the whole English Channel are hereby declared to be a military area. From 18 February onwards, all enemy merchant ships in these waters will be destroyed, irrespective of the impossibility of avoiding in all cases danger to the passengers and crew.

Neutral shipping will also be in danger in the war zone for, in view of the misuse of neutral flags ordered by the British government on 31 January and of the uncertainties of naval warfare it may not always be possible to avoid neutral vessels suffering from attacks intended for enemy ships.

The order was made public before other senior admirals were informed. Müller later damned Pohl’s behavior: the declaration was unskillfully drafted; the moment had been badly chosen; the means were not sufficiently ready. “It was disloyal to Tirpitz not to have discussed the declaration,” said Müller. “It was also disloyal to me. . . . [But] Pohl was anxious at all costs to get the declaration issued over his own name and February 4 was certainly the last day on which this was possible.” Privately, Tirpitz raged that “Pohl, by his vanity and lack of judgement, has made a mess.” Considering how few submarines were available, Tirpitz had recommended declaring a proper, effective blockade of a limited area, such as the mouth of the Thames. “Instead of which, flourish of trumpets, intimidation, and in consequence . . . England warned and given fourteen days to make preparations.” Nevertheless, despite complaints, Pohl had obtained what Tirpitz and most German naval officers desired: imperial approval for striking a blow at England. If the kaiser had forbidden the use of battleships, now, at least, he would permit the U-boats to try. It was in these confused circumstances that the German submarine war on neutral merchant shipping had its beginnings.

For the German navy and government, the decision to unleash the U-boats was a leap into the dark. Pohl’s persistence had thrust the campaign into reality, but neither he nor anyone on his staff were familiar with submarines and only Bauer and the U-boat captains themselves actually knew how the vessels could perform. Pohl knew that the number of U-boats available was grievously insufficient to enforce a submarine blockade on the whole of the British Isles. “We are not in a position to cut off England’s imports to a degree that the country will suffer hunger,” the Naval Staff analysts had told their chief. In fact, in May 1914, an unofficial staff study prepared at Kiel had calculated—very accurately, as experience proved—that an effective blockade of the British Isles would require at least 222 operational U-boats to maintain permanent patrols. However, Tirpitz had neglected to build submarines in peacetime; when the war zone was proclaimed in February 1915, the German navy had only thirty U-boats, only twenty of which were long-range diesel boats of the High Seas Fleet. The rest were small and obsolescent, useful only for coastal work. Again optimistically, the Naval Staff assumed that half of the diesel submarines could be at sea at any given time. And again experience proved that, allowing for the time-consuming voyage to the rich hunting grounds of the Western Approaches, the Irish Sea, and the western end of the English Channel, and the need for proper maintenance for the boats and rest for the crews, only a third of the force could be on station at a given moment.