In 1916 the number of Zeppelin raids mounted against ‘the island,’ as the crews termed the United Kingdom, increased three-fold, although the results achieved were far from commensurate with the additional effort involved. The principal reason for this was that the anti-aircraft defences of London and the Home Counties had improved beyond recognition. New and improved anti-aircraft guns were deployed throughout the capital and suburbs and in a secondary ring in the outlying hinterland, leaving a corridor in which British fighter aircraft could operate against the raiders without the risk of being hit by the anti-aircraft batteries. These were supplemented by searchlights and barrage balloons between which cable aprons were stretched, forcing the attackers to climb and therefore lose accuracy. These defences were duplicated to a lesser degree around the Thames estuary, the Kent and Essex coasts and further north along the east coast. In addition, the Royal Navy stationed guard ships along the Zeppelins’ most likely avenues of approach, armed with anti-aircraft weapons. Special machine gun ammunition was also added to the fighters’ armament, including Brock incendiary rounds, developed by the firework company of the same name, and Pomeroy explosive rounds. These were mixed together in the drum magazines of the Lewis guns that armed the antiairship fighters.
In August 1916 Admiral Reinhard Scheer received a letter from Captain Peter Strasser, the energetic operational commander of the Imperial Navy’s airship arm, promising him that his Zeppelins would inflict such serious damage on British civilian morale and economic life that their recovery was unlikely. It was indeed true that much larger, improved airships with the capacity to climb higher were being introduced, and that raids were now being carried out by groups of Zeppelins rather than by individual ships. However, the old problem of faulty navigation persisted, with commanders returning home convinced that their bombs had hit their target when they had actually landed many miles away. Again, the standard airship engine was a veritable minefield of trouble, causing numerous sorties to be aborted and contributing to the loss of ships. In the circumstances, it was an unwise prediction, especially as the British defence was beginning to take a steady toll.
On the night of 2/3 September no fewer than twelve naval airships, joined by four army craft flying from the Rhineland, set out for London. Among the latter was a new Schutte-Lanz craft, SL-11, commanded by a Captain Schramm. Approaching London from the north, SL-11 was brilliantly illuminated by searchlights and surrounded by bursting anti-aircraft shells. Schramm decided to turn away, but three night fighters were already converging on him. Closest was Second Lieutenant William Leefe Robinson, who laced the huge hull with two drums of incendiary and explosive ammunition, without result. He then concentrated the fire of a third drum against one point near the tail. A glow appeared inside the envelope, grew in intensity and suddenly burst through in a roaring tongue of flame that briefly lit up another airship, L-16, over a mile distant. Then, stern first, SL-11 crashed to earth near Cuffley in Essex, her wooden Schutte-Lanz skeleton continuing to burn long after the impact. There were no survivors. Robinson was awarded the Victoria Cross.
Simultaneously, after a good run in which serious ground fires had been started, L-33, one of the new ‘super-Zeppelins,’ sustained heavy damage from anti-aircraft fire and was crippled by a night fighter flown by Second Lieutenant Albert de Bathe Brandon. Her crew managed to land her near Little Wigborough, then set her on fire before marching towards the coast in the vain hope of finding a boat.
Mathy, now commanding L-31, took part in an eleven-strong raid on London during the night of 1 October. Having dropped his bombs, Mathy found himself under attack by four night fighters, one of which, piloted by Second Lieutenant Wulstan J. Tempest, came in from above and set the ship ablaze. The wreckage hit the ground at Potters Bar. Somehow, Mathy managed to jump clear but died from his injuries almost immediately. His loss was keenly felt throughout the airship service.
It was two months before naval Zeppelins appeared again in British skies. They avoided London because of its heavy defences, and attacked the North and Midlands instead. The raids were not a success and cost two Zeppelins shot down in flames; L-34 over West Hartlepool and L-21 off Lowestoft, having raided as far west as Newcastle-under Lyme.
For Count Zeppelin the airship was not the war-winning weapon he had hoped it would be. Zeppelin raids against the United Kingdom tailed away to 30 in 1917 and ten in 1918. Scheer’s memoirs record the final days of the airship service.
A painful set-back occurred in January 1918 when, owing to the spontaneous combustion of one of the airships in Ahlhorn, the fire spread by the explosion spread to the remaining sheds, so that four Zeppelins and one Schutte-Lanz machine were destroyed. All the sheds, too, were rendered useless. After this, the fleet had, for the time being, only nine airships at its disposal.
That was not quite the end of the of the Zeppelin story. The Royal Navy had been developing the concept of the aircraft carrier for some time and had finally produced a workable design by converting the light battle cruiser Furious and fitting her with a flight deck. On 19 July 1918 she flew off six Sopwith Camels which mounted a successful attack on the airship base at Tondern, destroying Zeppelins L-54 and L-60.
On 5 August five Zeppelins, led by Captain Strasser himself in the recently delivered L-70, mounted a final attack. L-70 was attacked by de Havilland DH-4 fighters. Explosive ammunition blew a hole in the outer skin of the ship’s stern. Within seconds flames spread rapidly along her length and the blazing wreckage tumbled seawards from a height of some 15,000 feet. The British pilots were horrified to watch the entire airship consume itself in less than a minute. There were no survivors. Strasser was a well-liked commander who had often accompanied his crews on their missions and had never lost faith in the airship concept.
Six days later Zeppelin L-53 was carrying out a reconnaissance patrol over the North Sea. No doubt the crew noticed, far below, a destroyer travelling at speed. It did not attract a great deal of interest as the airship was well beyond the range of its guns. For some unexplained reason it seemed to be towing a lighter, although the details were unclear. Had L-53 been flying lower she would have seen one of the strangest anti-aircraft systems ever devised, for on the lighter was a Sopwith Camel. The wind created by the speed of the destroyer’s passage created just enough lift for the biplane to become airborne. It took an hour before the Camel could reach a height at which the airship could be engaged. At a range of 100 yards, drum after drum was emptied into the Zeppelin’s belly, sending it into a fiery death-dive. This was the last enemy airship to be destroyed by British fighters during the war.
The huge size of the Zeppelins, caught in searchlight beams or sliding across a gap in the clouds, coupled with their ability to hover, produced widespread fear among the civilian population of Great Britain, generated by the knowledge that their island was no longer a safe haven from enemy activity, but it did not break their will to fight, as had been intended. Zeppelins killed 528 people and wounded 1,156 more. They also caused enormous damage, but it was spread across a very wide area. In addition, they tied down 17,340 men, hundreds of anti-aircraft guns, searchlights and barrage balloons, plus numerous RNAS and RFC squadrons, all of which could have been usefully employed in other theatres of war.
To crew a Zeppelin was to risk a particularly horrible death. About 1,100 Zeppelin crewmen lost their lives, the second highest proportion of those serving in any branch of the German armed services, the highest being U-boat crews. John Terraine provides some idea of the scale of Zeppelin losses in his book White Heat – The New Warfare 1914–18. He points out that of the 130 airships employed by the German Army and Navy during the war, only 15 existed when the Armistice was signed. Of the remainder, 31 were scrapped, seven were wrecked by bad weather, 38 were accidently damaged beyond economic repair, 39 were destroyed by enemy warships or land forces, while a further 17 fell victim to the RFC or RNAS, either in the air or as a result of bombing.
A Krupp 12-inch shell that pierced
HMS Defender during the battle.
Commander Loftus-Jones VC.
Flotilla leader destroyers Broke and Swift (in the background) formed part of the famous Dover Patrol and on 17 April 1917 were victorious in a hard-fought action against German destroyers off the Dutch coast.
Broke working up to her maximum speed of 32 knots. At Jutland she had sustained heavy casualties, which may explain the ferocity with which her crew repelled German boarders during the action mentioned above. Her captain on this occasion was Commander E.R.G.R. Evans, subsequently known as ‘Evans of the Broke’. He had survived Scott’s Second Antarctic Polar Expedition 1910–1913 which he commemorated with a toy penguin nailed to his foremast. He retired in 1936 as an admiral with the title 1st Baron Mountevans.
With Broke’s engines at full power, Evans drover her remorselessly into his opponent’s hull, carving a huge gash from which she could not hope to recover. Hand-to-hand fighting is taking place on Broke’s forecastle. The odd black-and-white striped pennant was peculiar to the Imperial German Navy and was a recognition aid during night fighting. (Royal Navy Museum)
HMS Broke.
Zeebrugge. Charles De Lacy’s painting shows the requisitioned Mersey ferry Daffodil pushing the old cruiser Vindictive hard against the mole while troops swarm ashore across the two surviving brows. Although the raid was only a partial success it raised the morale of the British public and damaged German belief in ultimate victory. Significantly, when those troops and naval personnel stationed along the Belgian coast were withdrawn they played a prominent part in the mutinies that destroyed Imperial Germany. (IWM Pic. 1084)
CHAPTER 10
A Battle Long Awaited – Jutland and Its Sequel
Admiral Reinhard Scheer, commander of the High Seas Fleet, seemed to enjoy a closer relationship with his sovereign than had either of his predecessors. He certainly possessed more drive and the success of the raids against Lowestoft and Scarborough, while modest, suggested that here was a commander who could produce results. His concept of grand strategy also exceeded theirs in that he was able to convince the Kaiser that continued naval raiding would erode the trust of the British population in the Royal Navy and that if, as originally envisaged, a significant portion of its strength could be eliminated, the spectre of invasion would so haunt London’s politicians that many thousands of British troops, together with all their artillery, aircraft and equipment, would be withdrawn from the Western Front for the defence of the homeland. Thanks to the Zeppelin raids, thousands of men, antiaircraft guns and fighter aircraft were already being held back in England rather than sent to France. In due course the Western Front would be so severely weakened that the French would request an armistice. This alone would justify further aggressive use of the High Seas Fleet, coupled with continued air attacks, and warrant taking the obvious risks involved. As for Russia, her capacity to fight had all but been destroyed in two years of total war, and her collapse was simply a matter of time.
It might have been a German dream, but at Scapa Flow Admiral Sir John Jellicoe had already worked out the details for himself. A German defeat at sea would have no effect on the German armies’ performance on land, whereas a British defeat would have a disastrous effect on Allied strategy. Winston Churchill, who had also evaluated the potential of the situation, perceptively described Jellicoe as ‘the only man who could lose the war in an afternoon’. For that reason Beatty’s Battle Cruiser Fleet had been strengthened by the addition of Rear Admiral Hugh Evan-Thomas’s 5th Battle Squadron consisting of the fast battleships Barham, Valiant, Warspite and Malaya.
Scheer accepted the fact that every time the High Seas Fleet put to sea, Beatty seemed to be waiting, although he did not know why. His plan was to trap and destroy Beatty’s ships by tempting them south with a bombardment of Sunderland, to be carried out by the German battle cruisers, once more under the command of Hipper. At this juncture the High Seas Fleet would pounce before Jellicoe’s Grand Fleet could intervene and Germany would achieve an important naval victory. Early warning of the enemy’s approach would be provided by a flight of scouting Zeppelins.
When the operation commenced on 31 May a haze covered the operational area. Despite this, Scheer decided to proceed without the Zeppelins. Hipper steered north and then north-west on a course that would avoid Dogger Bank and then take him directly to the objective, while Scheer followed with the High Seas Fleet, its battle squadrons in line ahead, on a more northerly heading. Both suspected that Beatty and Jellicoe were at sea but lacked any hard intelligence. In fact, Beatty and Evan-Thomas were already well on their way towards the intended battleground, and Jellicoe was pounding south from Scapa Flow with the Grand Fleet’s battleships deployed in six columns, ready to form line to port or starboard as the situation demanded.
At 15:00 Beatty and Hipper were still some distance apart when an entirely innocent event brought them together. Between the two fleets a Danish tramp steamer, the F.J. Fjord, was going about her lawful business. She was not in the best of health and her chief engineer distrusted the accuracy of her steam gauge. Tapping it, he saw the needle jump to the red sector. Reaching for the voice pipe, he informed the captain that it would be necessary to heave to and reduce pressure to safe levels. The captain agreed and the slow thump of the engine died away. With a shattering roar a continuous plume of steam leapt upwards from the funnel as the engineer opened the escape valve.
Map 5. The Battle of Jutland 30–31 May 1916.
There was little wind to disperse it and cruisers and destroyers from both opposing screens closed in to investigate its source. Recognising each other, they opened fire at once. The Battle of Jutland, an encounter unique in the history of naval warfare, had begun. Clouds of funnel smoke identified the converging presence of both fleets, the respective commanders of which reached instinctive decisions. Hipper turned south with the intention of luring Beatty to destruction under the guns of the High Seas Fleet, while Beatty swung onto a parallel course, hoping to destroy his old enemy. Five German battle cruisers (Lutzow, Derfflinger, Seydlitz, Moltke and Von der Tann) were opposed by six British (Lion, Princess Royal, Queen Mary, Tiger, New Zealand and Indefatigable), although Beatty has been sharply criticised for not creating a decisive situation by waiting for Evan-Thomas’s slightly slower dreadnoughts to catch up.
At 15:48 the battle cruisers of both sides opened fire, closing the range from 18,000 to 12,000 yards. Hipper had informed Scheer of the situation and the latter, presently some 60 miles to the south, was doing his best to close the gap quickly and complete Beatty’s destruction. This was no easy matter as the speed of his fleet was limited to 18 knots, all that could be squeezed out of his pre-dreadnought battleship squadron. Simultaneously, Jellicoe’s dreadnoughts were heading towards the scene of action at their best speed.
As the opposing lines of battle cruisers charged south, they passed either side of a barque, her sails hanging limp in the windless air. For the crew of the sailing ship, the experience must have been terrifying as hundreds of large calibre shells passed overhead in both directions with a sound like tearing cloth. There was no doubt that the German gunnery was the better. Aboard Beatty’s Lion, Q (midships) turret was penetrated and most of its crew were killed.
Burning cordite charges would have flashed down into the magazine had not a mortally wounded Royal Marine Light Infantry officer, Major Francis Harvey, ordered the magazine doors to be closed and the compartment flooded. At 16:05 a shell exploded in Indefatigable’s A turret. The flash passed down the trunking into the magazine and the ship was simply blown apart in a huge column of smoke and flame. Of her entire crew, only two men survived. At 16:26 the Queen Mary shared a similar fate. By coincidence, for the second time in her history, one of Seydlitz’s turrets was penetrated by a shell that killed everyone within it. On this occasion, however, the repairs previously effected prevented the flash reaching the magazine and she survived.
By now, Evan-Thomas’s dreadnoughts had caught up. Their gunnery
was far batter than that of Beatty’s battle cruisers and they soon began handing out a beating to Hipper’s ships. Hipper, horrified by the damage that was being inflicted, turned away as soon as he sighted the leading ships of the High Seas Fleet at 17:00. The destroyer flotillas of both sides now surged forward to engage in a fast-moving melee in which the German V27 and V29 were sent to the bottom while a torpedo launched by Petard blew a huge hole in the side of Seydlitz. Some British destroyers even launched suicidal attacks on the leading dreadnoughts of Scheer’s line. Of these, Nestor and Nomad went down fighting with their colours flying, the survivors of the former being chivalrously picked up by a German destroyer. In the meantime the light cruiser Southampton had pressed on to the south and radioed the position, course and strength of the High Seas Fleet. This priceless piece of intelligence was confirmed by Beatty, who reversed course at 17:26. The move was covered by Evan-Thomas’s battleships who shot so well that they not only obtained hits on the leading dreadnoughts of Scheer’s line, Konig, Grosser, Kurfurst and Markgraf, but also on Hipper’s battle cruisers, which were now beginning to look increasingly battered. The tables had now been turned and it was Hipper and Scheer who, all unsuspecting, were sailing into a trap.
North Sea Battleground: The War at Sea 1914-1918 Page 9