IN THE past few years there has been a steady increase in dependence, and in the actual number of messages sent by radio for naval purposes. Our angle of vision may be so small on being close to the water that we cannot see the sea, and, perhaps, we might enhance our perspective by inquiries which might prove of value in directing and shaping this growth. The volume of traffic at one of our largest shore radio stations increased 31.6 per cent in 1925 over 1923, and 1926 indicates a proportionate increase. It hardly seems likely that this increase in volume was due to the urgency of additional administrative and operative matters over previous years. Again, this growing number of messages was not caused by an undue increase in outgoing shore messages, as the ship to shore traffic during this time averaged fifteen per cent over shore to ship communication. Rather, a definite trend is indicated, wherein the naval service is gradually accepting and depending more on radio communication, just as the broadcasting of speech and music gradually has popularized radio ashore within recent years.
It may happen, though, that we fail to see through the maze of these peace-time messages, and so forget the designed ends for which naval radio is essentially operated. The statement of the Director of Naval Communications should be kept in mind: “The mission of the naval communication system is to furnish from the very moment that war is declared, quick, reliable and, when necessary, secret communication between units of the Navy, both afloat and ashore.” We might prepare ourselves for some problems of the nature by reflecting on some communication difficulties of the past, and on certain strategical aspects of radio in the World War.
In 1805, Nelson, in his historic pursuit of the French Fleet from the Mediterranean to the West Indies, arrived in the Caribbean only to find that Villeneuve had evaded him, and was en route to Europe. Nelson himself turned about and began retracing his own wake to the eastward. The Admiralty at home had to be notified. A despatch frigate, its speed depending on the vagaries of the wind, was sent on ahead to carry the news some 3,500 miles across the Atlantic. Any consequent action necessitating a revision of plans, or a new disposition of forces, could not begin until the actual, physical arrival of the original intelligence despatches from Nelson.
Later, with the advent of the telegraph, military communications ashore were transmitted more rapidly, but the Navy was still laboring under its old disadvantage of no such means of quick exchange of information over the vast distances at sea. In 1886, Captain Mahan suggested as a possibility that, ships operating off, say New York, the Delaware and the Chesapeake, might he in communication with each other by submarine cable. However, the Spanish American War still saw the use of despatch vessels. Two small ships would scout in company, and, on sighting the enemy, one vessel would carry the news as a despatch boat to her own forces, while the other would maintain contact with the enemy. Here, in a span just short of a hundred years since Nelson’s time, the dependence for communication of separated ships at sea was placed solely on despatch boats, and any advance in shortening the time of transmission of messages was due to the increased speed of steam despatch boats over sail.
It was only a few years later, in the Russo-Japanese War, that the advent of radio made the actual physical transmission of messages no longer necessary. Togo, operating off Port Arthur, had had a rather sad experience with enemy mines and torpedoes. So he moved his capital ships sixty miles away to the Elliot Islands and there, instead of the strain on personnel and material of being constantly at sea, he lay at anchor for needed repairs and overhauling. At the same time he kept in radio touch with Kaimura off Vladivostok. Yet the Japanese observation ships off Port Arthur could inform Togo and Kaimura, almost simultaneously with its occurrence, of any movement of the Russian admiral to proceed to sea. Here, for the first time in naval warfare, we have such a disposition of forces made possible strategically by the introduction of rapid radio communication.
A casual deduction might be drawn from the foregoing historical review that radio greatly simplified the art of war in making possible almost instantaneous transmission of messages over great distances. On the contrary, the World War proved the opposite to be true. Radio, in particular, further complicated the exercise of strategy. More alertness and ingenuity were required of the various commanders and, in turn, the coordination of all units was often dependent on a comprehensive, well organized and disciplined communication organization.
At the beginning of the war, in 1914, the English had a very inclusive view of the use of radio, or wireless telegraphy as they call it, and they seem to have set out with a very definite plan of improvement as Admiral Jellicoe in The Grand Fleet, 1914-1916, says:
But, after all, it was the conditions under which war broke out that made it necessary for us in the Grand Fleet to build up what was almost a new organization Wireless telegraphy developed with great rapidity and was put to many uses not dreamt of in pre-war days.
On the other hand, the Germans lagged behind and received some of their experience through costly lessons. They regularly broadcasted propaganda from the powerful Nauen station for the consumption of anyone who might care to listen. Yet, in a number of other cases, they failed to realize that the enemy might also intercept secret traffic, intended only for German listeners. From the beginning, the British adhered to a doctrine of radio silence in the movement of a large body of ships, while the Germans do not seem to have been thoroughly disciplined in this respect until two years later in 1916.
The beginning of the World War saw the British with plans to destroy the enemy’s means of communication between the outlying ships and colonies and Germany. The latter’s largest naval force outside the North Sea was the East Asiatic or Pacific Squadron under Admiral von Spee. This squadron was in continual need of fuel and supplies, and kept in touch with the stations in the colonies and the ships of the train by means of radio. The British lost no time in operating against their network of communications. Germany’s largest radio station at Nauen, near Berlin, worked with Kamina, Togoland, on the Gulf of Guinea, and the latter in turn was in touch across the Atlantic with Pernambuco, Brazil, by means of three cables at Monrovia, Liberia. In the Pacific, there were German cable and radio stations at Yap, Nauru and Anguar in the Pelew Islands, at Apia, Samoa, and at Tsingtau, China. The first month of the war, August, saw successful land operations against Kamina in Africa, and successful naval operations against the Pelew and Samoan Island stations. Other high power stations, such as Windhuk, Dar-es-Salaam and Tsingtau, which were better protected, were proceeded against later.
Yap, with its high power radio station and cables westward to Tsingtau and southward to the Dutch Islands and the Bismarck Archipelago, was a particularly important center of German communication in the Pacific. When Admiral Jerram proceeded against Yap he observed radio silence in order to effect a surprise to keep his movements secret. Three days later the Australia called him but he did not reply, but continued on his mission without disclosing his position or intentions until the apparatus at Yap was destroyed.
It may have been a case of necessity on the Germans’ part, but the Pacific Squadron did not follow Admiral Jerram’s example in observing radio silence. At the declaration of war, the fact that the location of this German squadron was unknown was a matter of serious concern to the British colonies. Admiral von Spec’s moving away from Australia was inferred as the Scharnhorst’s signals gradually became weaker. Two months later we find Suva, Fiji, intercepting the message: "Scharnhorst on the way between the Marquesas and Easter Island.” Again, Thursday Island intercepted a message in plain language to a German man-of-war warning her to keep a sharp lookout as British ships were in the vicinity. With the exception of being sighted off Apia in September, Admiral von Spee’s movements from August to the Battle of Coronel on November 1 were inferred mostly from intercepted radio communication.
After the destruction of this German squadron at the Battle of the Falklands, December 8, 1914, Germany’s naval forces and communication system outside of Europe were negligible. At the beginning of the war in 1914 Germany had one hundred twelve deep sea cables. By the Peace Treaty of Versailles, she was deprived of almost all but the end sections of her former great cable lines. Should she again build up a colonial system with interests spread over the globe, radio presents itself as being of primary importance in communication between such points.
Let us now turn to the main naval theater of the World War in the North Sea where larger scale operations were carried on in a comparatively smaller area. Germany’s strategy in these waters was necessarily on the defensive because of her inferior strength. She intended to bring about a condition approximating naval equality by attrition, raids and sorties against the British forces. The element of surprise is one of the outstanding features essential to the consummation of such a plan. Yet, there are examples of German ships disclosing the positions of ships at sea by the unwary use of radio.
On December 15, 1914, a German force of five battle cruisers and some light cruisers and destroyers set out to attack the coast towns of Scarborough and Hartlepool. The Germans realized that secrecy and surprise were very important phases to be observed in their raiding operations, and a strict radio silence was enjoined on this force. However the radio discipline does not seem to have been of the best, and several of the ships of the light forces compared their positions by radio, seeming to disregard the possible disclosure of their locations to the enemy.
The British, on learning of these ships being at sea, sent out one battle squadron, a battle cruiser squadron and some light forces. On the afternoon of December 16, the Admiralty forwarded to them the position of the German battle cruiser Seydlitz, which was returning after having participated in the bombardment. In the meanwhile the British force was seeking an engagement with the German raiding force, which it could engage with advantage because of superior strength. Imagine their surprise a few hours later when the admiral despatched the further information that the High Seas Fleet, much superior in turn to the British force, was also at sea to support the cruisers on their way home. Again, on the afternoon of December 17, the Admiralty learned that the High Seas Fleet had returned to the Jade, their outer roadstead.
The Seydlitz had sent its position in code to the Commander-in-Chief of the High Seas Fleet, but the English had intercepted it, and found it to be in a code in their possession. Even if the code used by the Seydlitz had been undecipherable, the British could have obtained the ship’s position by fixes from their radio compass stations. Admiral Scheer, in Germany’s High Seas Fleet in the World War, observes in connection with this premature information obtained by the British:
The English received the news through their directional stations which they already had in use, hut which were only introduced by us at a much later period . . . . In possessing them the English had a very great advantage in the conduct of the war.
In getting ready for the major operations by the German Fleet in May, 1916, which resulted in the Battle of Jutland, ten U-boats, followed by more later, put to sea for scouting against enemy men-of-war. The U- boats intercepted numerous messages indicating that the English were carrying out vigorous anti-submarine measures. The English, in turn, correctly inferred from the enemy radio and other activity that a big German naval offensive was in the making, and they made preparations accordingly. On the morning of May 30, the English directional stations reported that the High Seas Fleet had left the harbor of Wilhelmshaven for the outer Jade Roads. In the late afternoon of the same day the English intercepted a coded despatch, namely, “31 May Gg 2490,” addressed to all units of the High Seas Fleet. The English were unable to decode this message, but considering the scope and importance of the address, together with preceding events and earlier indications, they decided that the Germans were on the eve of their planned offensive. Forty minutes after this cryptic despatch was intercepted, the Admiralty ordered the Grand Fleet to sea.
The German station at Neumunster, in turn, listened in on the English, and reported that a number of battleships with light forces had left Scapa Flow. This isolated information, however, offered no pertinent suggestion of the British plans and intentions. On the other hand, the information gleaned from the air proved more valuable to the British. We find the latter taking prompt counter measures, with the Grand Fleet actually putting to sea three hours before the High Seas Fleet left the Jade Roads for their intended surprise major operation.
At 11:10, May 31, the Admiralty informed Admiral Jellicoe that the High Seas Fleet had gone to sea early that morning, but the directional stations were still hearing the German Fleet in the Jade. This information may have had a misleading effect on the English, as they might have closed the separated cruising disposition of their forces had they known of the proximity of the enemy fleet. As a matter of fact the German Fleet had left nine hours before the time of the transmittal of the Admiralty message. The opposing forces made contact only three hours and ten minutes later, both sides being taken by surprise. The reason that the British directional stations were confused and misled was because the flagship Friedrich der Grosse, on going to sea, transferred her radio call sign to Entrance III, a station ship at Wilhelmshaven.
On the morning of April 23, 1918, the last German naval movement of some magnitude took place. The whole High Seas Fleet put to sea, and advanced toward the Norwegian coast to operate against the strongly escorted British convoys to and from the Scandinavian countries. The German fleet maintained absolute radio silence, and the British had no inkling of the enemy’s being at sea until the radio was used in connection with the serious accident to the Moltke. Twenty- four hours after putting to sea, on the morning of April 24, the. Moltke’s inner starboard propeller was flung off the shaft, causing various engine room casualties, and eventually bringing the ship to a standstill. The Moltke, after being towed for a while and then torpedoed, finally reached port under her own steam. Though the use of radio was almost essential to the Moltke’s safety, the radio warned the Admiralty that the High Seas Fleet was at sea, and endangered the German fleet in disclosing its activities to the superior Grand Fleet. The High Seas Fleet returned to port without having accomplished its mission, but its failure does not seem to have been due to an incorrect conception of the task.
In this case, the German plan seems to have been well planned and executed. The German fleet was actually on the convoy routes on the day previously decided upon, as the most likely on which British convoys would be encountered. It was a matter of chance that at that time an inbound convoy of thirty-four ships was fifty miles from the Forth and an outbound convoy of forty-seven ships was in the river. From an unimpassioned viewpoint concerned with only the military merits of the case, a very serious blow would have been struck had coincidence favored the Germans. We find the latter with the proper respect for absolute radio silence being thwarted from accomplishing their mission merely by chance, and not by the threat of a superior enemy fleet.
On the other hand, fate saved the British from a disastrous blow by the enemy against their shipping. The English submarine E-5 observed the High Seas Fleet putting to sea, but no report reached the Admiralty prior to the radio activity occasioned by the accident to the Moltke. Apparently, the submarine observing forces in the Bight were not strong enough to ensure the transmission of more complete and full information of the departure of a number of German vessels than was intercepted by the wireless and directional stations at home. Previously, the directional stations had always warned the English that a major operation was on the eve of taking place, and preparations were made accordingly. Then the pendulum swung the other way. Probably on account of the delayed information, the British did not have enough time in which to carry out any effective counter moves before the High Seas Fleet returned to port. Too much reliance cannot be placed on directional stations alone, if one side refuses to accommodate the other by the careless, needless use of radio. The disadvantage of relying too much on information of wireless directional stations was very decidedly and practically demonstrated.
However, the fact must not be forgotten that naval operations in the North Sea were confined to a small area in comparison to the large spaces of the Atlantic and the great expanses of the Pacific. The English not only had a superior fleet, but also the British Islands offered the natural, geographical and strategical advantage of blocking Germany’s path to the ocean. With the main theater of naval warfare concentrated in this locality, the close relationship of the forces at sea and the shore radio stations was possible. Yet there are many valuable lessons to be drawn from the use of radio in information and security that might be applied in the future to operations similar, or more extended than those of von Spee’s squadron in the southern Pacific and Atlantic in the first year of the war.
The restrictions that were observed more and more in the strategical use of radio as the World War developed, increased instead of lessened the importance and problems of communications. First, the commander had to exercise mature judgment, before contact with the enemy, on the advisability of employing radio, and secondly, the radio organization had to be comprehensive and well drilled to carry out the commander’s wishes to the letter. Many of these restrictions vanished as soon as the enemy was sighted, when smooth and rapid radio communication was instantly needed. We have seen the wariness of both sides prior to contact in the Battle of Jutland, but as soon as the Galatea engaged the Elbing the silence was sharply broken. Commander O. Groos, I.G.N., states that he examined about 10,000 German and English radio messages in his study of this engagement.
At the beginning of the war, the British lost no time in destroying Germany’s network of cable and radio communications reaching down through Africa, around the globe to China. Admiral von Spee in the five weeks between his victory at the Coronel and his destruction at the Falklands must have realized that this gradual breaking down of his communications, so essential to his operations, eventually would end in his defeat. In the North Sea it took the Germans two years before they had a proper conception of the uses of radio. As in the case of the Seydlitz in the battle cruiser raid on the coast of England, the Germans many times betrayed their positions to the ever alert British radio compass stations. Again, it was the intercepted German despatch “31 May Gg 2490,” addressed to all units of the High Seas Fleet, that actually put the British Fleet to sea before the Germans preceding the Battle of Jutland. Then, we have the Admiralty improperly influenced by the transfer of the German flagship’s call to a station ship, with the consequent approach disposition of the Grand Fleet open to criticism. In the German Fleet advance against Norwegian shipping in April, 1918, we find the Germans with a correct conception of the use of radio. In this case the British seem to have placed too much reliance on the interception service of their directional stations without having sufficient submarine or other observation forces to confirm and support the radio means of information.
It must not be forgotten that while radio may have simplified greatly the rapid transmission of information since the days of despatch boats, it has also introduced the possible betrayal of one’s own security by disclosing the same information to the enemy. Radio is like the two-edged rapier—if skilfully handled, swift and direct in a thrust against an opponent, but insensitive to any feeling of allegiance; if brandished clumsily, it is just as swift and direct in its rebound against its own wielder.