Contemporary reports from the Daily Mail

Years ago the ex-Kaiser said: "Our future lies upon the water." He built a fleet second in power only to our own. Yesterday all the latest ships of that fleet, intact, were shepherded in surrender into the Firth of Forth by the Royal Navy. When it had anchored, Admiral Sir David Beatty signalled:

The German flag is to be hauled down at sunset and will not be hoisted again without permission. In the evening the whole British Fleet, and the American and French ships with it, offered thanks to God for the victory of Justice.

From H. W. Wilson,

The Celebrated Naval Historian.

H.M.S. ROYAL SOVEREIGN,

FIRST BATTLE SQUADRON,

GRAND FLEET, Wed. Night.

There was no excitement but only a pleasurable anticipation of memorable events when this afternoon Admiral Beatty's orders were issued that the immense fleet under his command was to prepare for sea.

The ships lay motionless on the grey water in the falling light of a winter afternoon; searchlights were busy flashing out their mysterious messages over the sea, across which the German force to be handed over for internment was already making its way towards us at 10 knots. Wireless instructions were sent to it, and questions asked by the German commander were answered. Many wondered what were the feelings of its officers and men.

In the Grand Fleet there was a general doubt whether some officers or some ships might not try a last stroke and prefer to perish in smoke and fire rather than accept this end of ignoble submission. The German crews were known to have no stomach for fighting, but there will always be desperate men to be reckoned with, therefore very special precautions were taken.

The Grand Fleet was to approach the Germans with cruisers and fast craft ahead. It was to be formed up in two immense lines six miles apart, and between them the Germans were to proceed to internment exactly as two policemen, one on either side, conduct a malefactor to the police station.

The cruiser Cardiff was charged with the duty of directing the German ships' movements and was to steam at their head. If there was any attempt at treachery, the gap separating the German line from either of the lines of Allied ships was too great - three miles - to permit the use of the ram, and gave our ships a good chance of eluding a torpedo.

Before the Germans were met, all crews in all ships were to be at "action stations" ready for battle, and were to remain at these stations till further orders were issued. Overhead, watching the Germans, the aeroplane squadrons from local stations were directed to fly. Thus provision was made against surprise and treachery. The whole strength of the Grand Fleet was to be employed - five battle squadrons (the Fourth, of King Edwards -pre-Dreadnoughts, was otherwise employed, and here and there ships were absent from the squadrons docking and refitting.) The 6th Battle Squadron, of five lattice-towered American super-Dreadnoughts, was there under Rear-Admiral Rodman.

There were two squadrons of battle-cruisers and six of light cruisers, with eight flotillas of destroyers, a gigantic force overwhelming in its superiority.

The order in which the Germans were to meet us was (they were to be in a single line with intervals of 600 yards between each ship's bow and the next astern):

FIVE BATTLE-CRUISERS: Seydlitz (Commodore Tagert), Hindenburg, Derfflinger, Moltke, Von der Tann.

NINE BATTLESHIPS: Friedrich der Grosse (flag of Rear-Admiral von Reuter, in command of the German force), Konig Albert, Kaiser, Kronprinz Wilhelm, Kaiserin, Bavern, Markgraf, Prinz Regent Luitpold, Grosser Kurfurst.

SEVEN LIGHT CRUISERS: Karlsruhe (Commodore Harder), Frankfurt, Emden, Nurnberg, Brummer, Koln, Bremse.

FIFTY DESTROYERS (of the newest).

The German ships were ordered to have their guns in the fore-and-aft position, in which they could not be trained upon our ships without attracting instant attention. They were to steam due west at a speed of 10 knots to the meeting place, which was off the Firth of Forth, 56 degrees 11 minutes north latitude and 1 degree 20 minutes west longitude, and the leading ship was to be at the rendezvous at 8 a.m. to-day. After being escorted to the Firth of Forth they were to anchor off Inchkeith. Two examinations of them were to be carried out - the first by a small number of officers to make certain that their magazines were empty, as Admiral Beatty's instructions required; the second, a complete and careful search as a precaution against booby-traps and tricks of any kind, a work necessarily demanding hours of attention, as every compartment would have to be thoroughly inspected.

THE LAST VOYAGE.

Thursday.

Somewhere about 3 a.m. we weighed anchor and, with our battle squadron leading the line, put to sea. It was a cloudy night but fine and without mist. The great black hulls swept silently through the water. We passed under the gigantic girder work of the Forth Bridge and our topmasts, which had been lowered, seemed to scrape it.

All arrangements were made for the possibility of an attack by submarine or destroyer. We went silently through the many booms which protect the Firth, the outermost, near May Island, seven miles long.

About 28 miles from Rosyth the mysterious P.V.s, the antidote to mines, were dropped, one of the numerous new contrivances of the war. On the upper bridge the night defence officer took up his position at the director, which controls the searchlight and guns for anti-submarine defence.

But out of the still, black water no enemy showed as two long lines of British and American warships steamed at 12 knots to the rendezvous. The only sound to be heard was the officer of the watch giving the steering orders. "Follow Resolution" (our next ahead), "Steer 78" (degrees of the compass), "Steady," "76," "Don't give her too much helm." Pointers waved gently backwards and forwards on the dimly lighted dials which decorate the upper bridge. The ship far below was dark without a glimmer of light, and in front her forecastle looked from this height (87ft. above the water) like a flat iron; and the Resolution, ahead of us, was nothing more than a dim black mass.

Down there all was still as death, but for the occasional fall of feet, the note of the bugle-calls now and again, and the gentle hum of the machinery. Dawn came of this day, the most wonderful in naval history and destined to witness such unparalleled events. The Germans were late; they had been delayed by trouble in the condensers of one of their ships. The clouds were lifting and gave promise of perfect weather. About 8 the German Fleet was 40 miles off.

THE FINAL SCENE.

ALL OUR GUNS READY.

At 9.30 they were in sight. We were flying the White Ensign from every possible place in every ship - a precaution taken before going into battle.

"Is it peace, Jehu?" All glasses on the bridges were turned on the Germans, now very faintly to be seen on the horizon. Mist still hung despite the bright sun. We were present at one of the tremendous moments of history - such a moment as when Caesar crossed the Rubicon and changed the destinies of the world.

It was peace. Slowly, at a speed of 10 to 11 knots, the Germans came on, down the great lane of warships prepared to escort them, led by the British cruiser Cardiff and by one of our airships, as when a criminal surrenders himself submissively for execution.

Behind the Cardiff came the Seydlitz battle-cruiser, and after her the four other German battle-cruisers, including all the "baby-killers." They looked in admirable order. They kept perfect station. They moved with clockwork regularity. They carried the German flag for the last time, and the German commodore's broad pennant flew at the main of the Seydlitz.

Silently, dejectedly they came on in the midst of the silent escort, with no salutes and no dipping of the flag. Their paint gleamed with a curious copper red glint in the sun so that it might have been the stain of blood though their general colour was a greenish grey, somewhat darker than ours. Behind the battle-cruisers were the battleships, nine great vessels magnificently built and keeping perfect station like the battle-cruisers. The Friedrich der Grosse carried the rear-admiral's flag, a black cross and two balls on a white ground, hoisted at her topmast.

The procession was funereal in its solemnity. That a great fighting force should surrender in this fashion was something of which the world had never dreamed, something which four months ago most men would have pronounced impossible.

Now came this signal from Admiral Beatty as we neared the anchorage:

The Grand Fleet met this morning at 9.20 5 battle-cruisers, 9 battleships, 7 light cruisers and 49 destroyers of the High Sea Fleet, who surrendered for internment and are being brought to the Firth of Forth. At 11.4 he signalled: The German flag will be hauled down at sunset to-day and will not be hoisted again without permission.

At 12.30 came what may be said to be the last signal of the naval war : Negative man action stations.

HUN DESTROYER MINED.

LIGHT CRUISER TOWED IN.

I hear that of the 50 German destroyers which were on their way over to surrender one, V30, struck a mine and sank. The cruiser Koln was delayed by condenser troubles and was towed by one of the German battle-cruisers some part of the voyage.

The return of the Fleet with its prizes to the Firth was one of the most splendid spectacles which man can imagine. For miles the lines of British ships crossed the sea, moving with exquisite precision, with paint and brass work, or so much of it as is tolerated in our modern Navy, sparkling in the sun, with the glorious White Ensign flying and the signalmen busy with their rainbow hoists of signal flags.

There was no exultation or desire to trample on a fallen enemy, but a feeling of heartfelt satisfaction that the victory had been gained and the war won, though at the price of cruel losses. So, as in Nelson's day, the British Navy has been at once the sword and shield of freedom.

As the Royal Sovereign anchored east of Inchkeith we saw the German vessels which had been sent in ahead of us at close quarters. At a distance they had seemed resplendent in the sun, but now they looked distinctly shabby and out at elbows. Officers and men stood in crowds on their decks watching us anxiously and showed signs of great depression.

The ships of the First Battle Squadron, and the Royal Sovereign among them, cheered Admiral Beatty as they passed his flagship, the immense Queen Elizabeth, and he stood there in the evening sun waving his hand in this last ceremony of the Grand Fleet.

At sunset the German flag was hauled down and the admiral made a final signal: It is my intention to hold a service of thanksgiving at 6 p.m. to-day for the victory which Almighty God has vouchsafed to his Majesty's arms, and every ship is recommended to do the same.

The German ships are to be taken in the next few days to Scapa Flow, the great harbour in the Orkneys, 200 miles from Rosyth, where they will be interned till peace. That they will be given back to a nation which has so gravely misused naval power is thought in our Fleet to be wholly improbable; they will most likely be divided among the Allies - Great Britain, France, and the United States. The crews, excepting a small number of officers and men who will be told off as care and maintenance parties, will be sent back to Germany in transports.