Jellicoe’s columns deployed to port to form a line extending across the horizon, while the 3rd Battle Cruiser Squadron, consisting of Invincible, Inflexible and Indomitable, set off south to join Beatty. On sighting the Grand Fleet, Beatty swung eastwards to take up position at the head of the British line. At 18:15, emerging from the murk created by hundreds of smoke-belching funnels, Scheer and Hipper were horrified to discover that Jellicoe had crossed their T and that having been the hunters they had now become the hunted. Hipper was particularly taken aback by the fact that despite losing two of his battle cruisers, Beatty was now actually stronger than he had been at the start of the battle. In due course, his chagrin evidently communicated itself to the German official historian who described the Royal Navy as a hydra, referring to the mythical monster with so many heads that it did not matter how many one cut off. At 18:17 gunfire blazed the length of Jellicoe’s line, blasting thousands of shells towards the German fleet. Lutzow, Hipper’s flagship, became a battered, hopeless wreck. Hipper was forced to transfer his flag to a destroyer from which he watched his battle cruisers, the pride of the Imperial Navy and the favourite of the German public, progressively blown apart. All of Von der Tann’s turrets were put out of action; Seydlitz was awash from the bows with water slopping as far as her middle deck; Derfflinger, having received no less than twenty hits, was also down by the bows and had lost the ability to use her radio. Her commander, Captain Hartog, had temporarily assumed command of the battle cruisers in Hipper’s absence, and this made his task doubly difficult.
In Scheer’s line, Konig, hit time and again, was listing badly while Markgraf, with serious engine room damage, was forced to reduce speed. This was the last situation Scheer had hoped to find himself in, but as a sound professional he had allowed for it and exercised his ships in a manoeuvre known as the Battle Turn-Away in which each ship reversed course individually rather than turning in succession at the same point. By 18:35 he decided that his ships had taken more than enough punishment and he gave the signal. As the German fleet began to fade into the evening mist a final salvo from Derfflinger exploded aboard Invincible, which blew up from exactly the same cause as the earlier battle cruiser losses.
The fighting between the capital ships had been savage, but equally fierce duels were being fought between the cruisers and destroyers of both fleets. The light cruiser Chester unexpectedly found herself surrounded by an entire German light cruiser squadron consisting of the Frankfurt, Wiesbaden, Pillau and Elbing. Despite being hit repeatedly and sustaining heavy casualties among her crew, she succeeded in leading her opponents to within range of the British battle cruisers. The result was that a 12-inch shell exploded inside Pillau’s engine room, putting four boilers out of action and thereby turning her into a cripple, while Frankfurt limped off, seriously damaged. Wiesbaden was reduced to a blazing hulk but whatever chance her damage control parties might have had of saving her vanished when the destroyer Onslow and the armoured cruisers Warrior and Defence came upon her. Nevertheless, she continued to fight on as best she could until a torpedo finally sent her to the bottom. In response, Defence was seriously damaged by the fire of Derfflinger and no fewer than four German battleships. The destroyer Shark was smashed to burning wreckage by the fire of enemy cruisers and destroyers while leading a hopeless torpedo attack on the enemy’s battle cruisers. Her captain, Commander Loftus Jones, having already lost his right leg and sustained further wounds to his face and thigh, ordered a White Ensign to be hoisted in place of that which had been shot away. One by one, Shark’s guns were silenced until only one, manned by three men, continued to spit defiance. The moment came when Loftus Jones recognised that she was going down by the bows and gave permission for the ship to be abandoned. Shortly after, she was given the coup de grace by two torpedoes. Loftus Jones was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross and the six men of his crew who survived were given the Distinguished Service Medal.
Jellicoe could have pursued Scheer and doubtless sunk a number of German stragglers, but he wanted to inflict even greater damage on his opponents. Scheer had retreated westwards and it was obvious that sooner or later he would have to turn east to regain his bases. Jellicoe therefore set the Grand Fleet on a southerly course, confident that Scheer would have to cross this. This was exactly what happened. At 19:20 the High Seas Fleet again ran head-on into Jellicoe’s line of battle and sustained a fearful pounding of which the battle cruisers received the major share. Aboard Seydlitz and Derfflinger damage control parties struggled to bring raging fires under control. Von der Tann was left with only one gun in action and a wrecked control tower but her captain gallantly remained in line hoping that his ship would draw fire intended for her consorts. Lutzow, crippled, fell further and further behind until, at 01:45, she was torpedoed by her own destroyer escort. Only Moltke retained some semblance of normality, enabling Hipper to board her later and assume control of his shattered command.
Thanks to their being silhouetted against the setting sun, the Germans had much the worst of this exchange of fire, while their opponents, hardly visible against the darkening sky to the east suffered little. Scheer stuck it for about five minutes, during which his dreadnoughts Markgraf, Grosser Kurfurst and Konig all received further punishment while Helgoland, lying fourth in his battle line, was hit by a 15-inch shell that wrecked a 5.9-inch gun and punched a huge hole in the hull through which some 80 tons of water flooded into the ship . Close to hysteria, he ordered another Battle Turn-Away while the remaining battle cruisers covered the manoeuvre by charging the British line. This would have achieved very little and almost certainly have resulted in heavy if not terminal loss for those involved. Nevertheless, from such seeds do legends grow. It was said, and became an article of faith in the German Navy, that he had ordered the battle cruisers to ‘close the enemy and ram!’ His actual words were, ‘Grosser Kreuzer, Gefechtswendung rein in den Fiend! Ran!’ (Battle cruisers, turn toward the enemy and engage him closely! At him!) Obediently, the four battle cruisers that could, commenced their attack, surging through a torrent of exploding shells. Minutes later, Scheer recovered his composure and cancelled the order, leaving his destroyers to mount a mass torpedo attack.
In such circumstances, the defence was to turn towards or away from the running torpedoes, allowing them to pass harmlessly between ships. Jellicoe chose to turn away, giving an added margin of safety by letting the torpedoes run to the point that their fuel was exhausted. Not one torpedo found its mark, while six German destroyers were damaged and a seventh, S35, was sunk. There were those who, with the benefit of hindsight, criticised Jellicoe for not turning towards the torpedoes, as this would have meant that the enemy remained within range and in view. Against this, he had no wish to let Scheer claim serious damage to or sinking of several British dreadnoughts. It was unfortunate that contact was temporarily lost but both fleets were now running south on parallel courses and it seemed quite probable that it would be regained. At 20:20, with the last of the light fading rapidly, there was a brief engagement between the battle cruisers and the German pre-dreadnoughts, leading Scheer’s line since the last Battle Turn-Away which were sent to assist but were forced to retreat when hits were scored on the battleships Schleswig-Holstein and Pommern as well as on the cruiser Stettin.
Scheer had no wish to renew the battle and, aware that first light would appear at about 03:30, he knew that he could not delay turning south-eastwards any longer, even if it meant fighting his way through Jellicoe’s line. This time, luck was on his side, for Jellicoe’s fleet was several knots faster than his own so that when he gave the order to change course at 21:30 he broke through the light units covering the rear of the British line. A series of confused actions followed in which the Germans had a slight advantage in that they had laid greater emphasis of training for night fighting, including the use of starshells and searchlights. The British lost several destroyers, the armoured cruiser Black Prince and the light cruiser Tipperary. In addition, the cruisers South
ampton and Dublin sustained serious damage. The German cruisers Frauenlob and Rostock were torpedoed and sunk. The cruiser Elbing was also hit by a torpedo. Whatever chance she had of survival was snuffed out when she was rammed by one of her own dreadnoughts, the Posen, and finally abandoned to sink. The destroyer Obedient slammed a torpedo into the pre-dreadnought Pommern, which blew up and sank. During the early hours of 1 June the High Seas Fleet passed the Horns Reef, marking the 120-mile swept channel leading to its anchorages. At 05:20 the dreadnought Ostfriesland struck a British mine laid the previous night but managed to limp into harbour. Had the return voyage been just a few miles longer Seydlitz, almost hidden by belching clouds of dense black smoke, drawing 42 feet of water at the bows and with hundreds of tons of water aboard, would never have reached home. As it was, she grounded several times and finally had to be towed into harbour stern-first. The British remained off the Horns Reef until 11:00 on 1 June, then turned for home in rising seas that claimed the Warrior, badly damaged and under tow.
So ended the Battle of Jutland, known, as Skagerrak in Germany. When the final accounting was done, the Grand Fleet’s losses amounted to three battle cruisers, three armoured cruisers and eight destroyers, a total of fourteen ships. The High Seas Fleet lost one pre-dreadnought battleship, one battle cruiser, four light cruisers, and five destroyers a total of eleven ships. British casualties amounted to 6,097 killed, about half of whom were lost in the three battle cruisers, and 510 wounded; the Germans lost 2,551 killed and 507 wounded.
On the basis of statistics and the fact that Scheer had brought his fleet home, the German press claimed a stunning victory. Scheer and Hipper both received Germany’s highest military decoration, the Pour le Merite. Scheer declined to accept a title but the King of Bavaria granted Hipper a knighthood and with it the right to add ‘von’ to his name; knowing the truth of the matter, he was not terribly interested in either. An unexpectedly large number of lesser mortals received the Iron Cross.
Across the North Sea news spread among the British public that a major fleet action had taken place. It was confidently expected that the Royal Navy had won a second Trafalgar and, indeed, it was felt to be nothing less than an entitlement. However, the Admiralty’s first official communiqué on the subject, issued on the morning of 3 June, produced such a sense of shock that it was widely remembered over thirty years later.
On the afternoon of Wednesday May 31, a naval engagement took place off the coast of Jutland. The British ships on which the brunt of the fighting fell were the Battle Cruiser Fleet and some cruiser and light cruisers supported by four fast battleships. Among these the losses were heavy. The German battle fleet, aided by low visibility, avoided prolonged action with our main forces, and soon after these appeared on the scene the enemy returned to port, though not before receiving severe damage from our battleships. The battle cruisers Queen Mary, Indefatigable, Invincible and the cruisers Defence and Black Prince were sunk. The Warrior was disabled and after being towed for some time, had to be abandoned by her crew. It is also known that the destroyers Tipperary, Turbulent, Fortune, Sparrow-hawk and Ardent were lost and six others are not yet accounted for. No British battleships or light cruisers were sunk. The enemy’s losses are serious. At least one battle cruiser was destroyed; one battleship reported sunk by our destroyers during a night attack; two cruisers were disabled and probably sunk. The exact number of enemy destroyers disposed of during the action cannot be ascertained with any certainty, but it must have been large.
Traditionally, the Royal Navy was a reticent service that shied away from triumphalism, but the tone of the Admiralty’s communiqué and its successor were so negative – to say nothing of being incomplete and inaccurate – that it might have been reporting a serious defeat. Jellicoe was furious, yet despite his fully justified protests, the Admiralty studiously avoided using the word ‘victory’ and, reasoned many, if there had not been a British victory, there must have been a British defeat. It was a message from King George himself that placed the matter in its correct perspective:
I regret that the German High Seas Fleet, in spite of its heavy losses, was enabled by the misty weather to evade the full consequences of an encounter they have always professed to desire but for which, when the opportunity arrived, they showed no inclination.
The neutrals tended to agree. Indeed, Jutland could be seen as yet another escape story. At its simplest, Sheer had gone to sea and Jellicoe had chased him back into harbour. Not one cargo of war material or foodstuffs to feed an increasingly hungry population reached Germany as a direct result of Jutland. Nothing had changed and the Royal Navy’s blockade continued to strangle Imperial Germany.
Once the euphoria had subsided, there were plenty of level headed Germans able to see beyond the simple statistics of loss. Those who watched their shattered ships make their painful way into harbour saw nothing to celebrate. Among them was Scheer, who had received so many plaudits and now recognised that a limit had been reached. His view was that the High Seas Fleet must never again fight such a battle, even if the respective losses were in the same proportion. In his opinion, it was simply not possible to defeat the Royal Navy in a surface engagement. The accuracy of this prediction was confirmed when, during the evening of 2 June, Jellicoe, despite having to dock several ships, was able to report the Grand Fleet ready for action at four hours’ notice. Scheer, on the other hand, indicated that the High Seas Fleet would not be ready until the middle of August, and even then Seydlitz and Derfflinger would not complete their repairs until, respectively, September and October. Somehow, he managed to convince the Kaiser that the surface fleet’s real value lay in absorbing so much of Great Britain material and manpower resources, rather than as a theoretical bargaining counter in any future peace negotiations.
There was, however, one task that he must perform. His men had understandably been shaken by the enemy’s murderous gunfire, the destruction caused by high explosive shells, and the horrible shrieks of comrades torn apart. They knew that they had hit the enemy hard, but it was they who had been forced to seek refuge in harbour. In the circumstances, they found the jubilation of the civilians, who had no idea what had actually taken place, somewhat overdrawn. As a good commander, Scheer knew that he must restore their morale. His attempt to bombard Sunderland had been rudely interrupted by Beatty and Jellicoe. Now, he would repeat it, with adequate Zeppelin reconnaissance to warn him of their approach.
On 18 August he put to sea with the two remaining battle cruisers, 18 battleships and, to prevent his being surprised as he had on the last occasion, a scouting force of Zeppelins would provide advance reconnaissance over a wide area. As usual, Room 40 had provided advance warning of the High Seas Fleet’s assembly. Not only were Beatty and Jellicoe at sea in overwhelming strength, the Harwich Force had also been ordered out. This was spotted by Zeppelin L13 and reported by radio as including a squadron of battleships. It was also, the report continued, within striking distance of Scheer to the south. Delighted, Scheer changed course in pursuit only to discover that his quarry consisted of smaller warships. It was now too late for him to carry out his original intention of bombarding Sunderland and he turned for home. By then, the distance between Jellicoe and Scheer was too great for an engagement to take place. The only losses incurred during the day were the light cruisers Nottingham and Falmouth, torpedoed and sunk by U-boats, and the dreadnought Westfalen damaged by a British submarine. On 18 October Scheer initiated another sortie but cancelled it and returned to harbour when a British submarine torpedoed the light cruiser Munchen in the Heligoland Bight. Thereafter, save for individual ships, the heavy units of the High Seas Fleet spent the rest of the war in harbour, their best officers and men transferring to the U-boat service while the morale of the remainder began to rot.
CHAPTER 11
Strafing the Island (2)
As the Zeppelin offensive against the United Kingdom began to lose its momentum, the High Command of the German armed forces decided to attac
h greater importance to the operations of the Imperial German Air Service. General Ernst von Hoeppner was appointed commander of this vastly expanded arm, with Colonel Hermann Thomsen as his Chief of Staff. From the outset, Hoeppner was more aggressive in his choice of primary targets, which would include the Houses of Parliamernt, Whitehall, Downing Street, the Admiralty, the War Office, the Bank of England and the newspaper production district of Fleet Street, the intention being to prove that no one in the British political, armed forces, financial or press establishments should feel any safer than the average citizen. Some raids would be delivered in daylight, the result being to further damage British morale.
North Sea Battleground: The War at Sea 1914-1918 Page 10