Jutland_The Unfinished Battle

by Nicholas Jellicoe

  My extended family came through in spades. Many illuminating conversations about Trafalgar were spent with my cousin Richard Latham, ex-RN. Phillip Wingfield shared with me some personal Jellicoe artefacts that I was able to take with me to the area where John Jellicoe made the deployment decision. James Loudon gave me full access to all the admiral’s obituaries and newspaper clippings. It was James who found the photo of the Kriegsmarine flag being lowered to mark the admiral’s death in 1935. Christopher Balfour contributed with some extensive research on the funeral attendees. My sincere thanks to Dominic Gibbs of The Cayzer Trust company, without whose financial and moral support much of the editing would not have been possible, and very sincere thanks to Elizabeth Gilmour (Cayzer) for her deep interest and extensive support. The writing of this book brought me in closer contact with all my cousins and helped rebuild an important family link, which has been a wonderful, unexpected gift for me.

  Tony Lovell, whom I met in Boston in 2011, let me try a hand-held Barr and Stroud range-finder on the Harvard River to give me a feel for the intricacies of range-finding. I was embarrassingly bad. Tony also made me an editor on the Dreadnought Project (as it turned out, a remarkably quiet one) which, in turn, opened more doors to a group whose deep knowledge has been a source of great insight: Dr John Brooks, Brooks Rowlett, Byron Angel, Dr Simon Harley, Steve McLaughlin, Dr Matthew Seligmann and Bill Jurens, to name but a few.

  Over the last five years there have been many sources of help from different parts of the world: Mike Pitschke from Monterey whose photos, together with the Barton collection, will make fine materials for the Fleet Air Arm museum in Yeovil; Rear Admiral James Goldrick RAN (retd), David Stevens and Dr Alex Kolloniatis (whose help on Jutland signals has been invaluable) from Australia, and Prof Paul Halpern and Tobias Philbin from the United States. James Goldrick, who has just published Before Jutland, graciously gave me his time whenever I asked.

  Among the naval and military museums in Britain and Germany have come many other friendships and encouragement: Dr Kevin Fewster (NMM), who has encouraged me since the start of the Jutland Centenary Initiative; Dr Quintin Colville, who helped me connect with Sir Hugh Evan-Thomas’s family. Martin Bourdillon was kind enough to entrust me with full access to family records of the great admiral’s life. And, of course, Andrew Choong at the National Maritime Museum’s Brass Foundry, who is the keeper of Aladdin’s Cave: the ships’ plans. To others: I give thanks to Alan Bush, grandson of the Spitfire’s Lt Athelstan Bush, and Dave Smith who made me an honorary member of the Equal Speed Charlie London Society. And I thank Dr Andrew Gordon, whose Rules of the Game is considered by many as seminal a work on Jutland as Marder’s were, for his advice and support. We can disagree, but as friends.

  The many friendships that I have made in Germany as a result of this book have been a source of great pleasure: Jörg Wehmer, Dr Wolf von Tirpitz, grandson of the great Alfred Tirpitz, Hans Koever for his Room 40 work, Christian Jentsch from the Mürwick Naval Academy, Peter Kram from the Wilhelmshaven Bilddienst, Peter Schenk, the historian, and Karl-Heinz Jockel of the deutsche-marinearchiv.de. Peter knew my father, George, well from his work on the German invasion of Leros where he lost one of his closest friends. After having given his parole, George was allowed to search for the body but it was in vain. Given the many close German friendships of my grandfather, the admiral, I have always maintained that the 2016 Jutland Centenary Memorial should be a joint British and German affair. Hopefully, we have learnt some lessons from what happened so that we don’t stumble again into such an abyss.

  I must also acknowledge the access to photos from the Blohm und Voss, Hamburg Archives and for the kind and generous help that I received at both the Liddle Archives in Leeds and the Churchill Archives in Cambridge. And of archives and archivists, I only have the highest praise for Susan Scott of The Cayzer Trust Archives who generously went well beyond the call of duty to help make this a better book.

  Some connections are just being made now: to reconnect with the Scheer and von Hase families. Even though nothing came of it at the end, my thanks to Ernst Lahner for the many hours that he spent trying to see how we could join the two stories of HMS Spitfire and SMS Nassau together.

  Jutland: The Unfinished Battle is but one part of the Jutland Centenary Memorial Initiative. Many people have been quietly and generously working behind the scenes to commemorate properly the memory of the men who died at Jutland. A website will be accessible online and will be useful to refer to alongside my book. My thanks to Clément Lador of Ergopix in Vevey for his help in designing the site, Guillaume Goutchtat from A46 in Montreux for sound engineering all the animation voice-overs and podcasts, and Caroline Buechler for her ideas on the podcast concept. A very special thanks to my old friend and respected colleague, Rupert White, whose Munich agency, White Communications, helped with all the preparations of the first museum presentation on Skagerrakstag 2014 and whose family looked after me on many Munich visits for the animation work with Peter Pedall. Oberst Dr Matthias Rogg of the Dresden Militarische Museum, Dr Jann Witt from Laboe, Dr Stefan Huck from the Wilhelmshaven Marine Museum and Dr Dominic Tweddle from the National Museum of the Royal Navy all came to share ideas on how or where we might be able to work together fruitfully.

  Other people who helped in the presentation did so as they shared my passion – the Frameworks agency was responsible for the beautifully executed film introduction to the meeting. Thank you, Terry Brissendon, Lawrence James and Simon Fairweather, a great friend from my Rolex creative days. And thanks go to Crispin Sadler who, together with Innes McCartney and myself, is now working on a Jutland documentary.

  Apart from this book a great deal of effort has been focused on creating the Jutland Centenary Initiative website, built as a learning resource around an animation of the complex battle. I wish to thank Peter and Alissa Pedall in Munich, for their work which will engagingly communicate with a younger generation to keep Jutland and its lessons alive and relevant. They have both worked long hours on the project’s behalf. There have been some fun projects too. We will have a special commemorative edition of Scapa Scotch. Pernod-Ricard has generously agreed that all the proceeds will be donated to the Royal National Lifeboat Institution. The 1st Earl of Scapa would have, I am sure, very much liked the idea. Thank you Eric Benoist, Nikki Burgess, Clarisse Daniels and Alison Perottet. And Tom Muir of the Kirkwall Historical Museum, Orkney. The Royal Hospital School, where my grandfather laid the foundation stone in 1927, gave me one of my most treasured opportunities: working with school pupils on how best to communicate Jutland in a meaningful way to a younger generation through the work of profiling the more than one hundred school alumni who died in the battle. I am deeply grateful to former headmaster, James Lockwood, project evangelist Rob Mann, Monty Callow, history master David Barker, business development manager Lucy Pembroke and, of course, for the enthusiasm of the RHS pupils.

  As a result of my brother, John Jellicoe, the Venerable Peter Sutton, Archdeacon of the Isle of Wight, agreed that the Union Flag which flew on the Iron Duke will see another day on the North Sea in 2016. We just found out (through Knud Jacobsen in Denmark) that the admiral had given it to the Church of Holy Trinity in Ryde in October 1916, when he had been unable to personally attend his own mother’s funeral because of his duties of command. Instead, he asked his eldest sister, Edith, to take the Union Flag from his flagship. It was a highly symbolic gesture. And, of course, thanks to my elder brother, Paddy, who has generously given me the portrait of the admiral that Sir Arthur Stockdale Cope painted as a study for the National Portrait Gallery’s larger Naval Officers of World War One. It will be seen by many around the various Jutland exhibitions in the coming years.

  My most heartfelt thanks are to my wife, Patricia, and our two daughters, Zoë and Francesca, all of whom have left their mark on my work – to Zöe for the exhausting task of re-reading the final manuscript and to Francesca for all her design input for the Jutland Centenary Initiative
. But most of all, thanks go to each for all their understanding and patience with a project that often seemed never-ending: almost like the unfinished battle.

  In closing, my sincere thanks to Rob Gardiner of Seaforth for his continuous but always patient explanations to a neophyte writer and to James Woodhall, my editor, who spent more time with me at one point than my family, though when we worked together at my family’s house we discovered another passion in common: great wine.

  It is inevitable that with such a large work there will be errors, especially since I am neither a professional historian nor writer. Nor have I had the years of experience needed for a real historian’s grasp of all the facts, but I only ask a reader’s understanding when these occur but their presence (and their correction) is my responsibility alone.

  Abbreviations

  Gun classification

  Throughout this work, a gun’s calibre will refer to the metric or non-metric diameter of the shell size; British capital ship weaponry ranged from 12in to 15in calibre for the main armament. A gun on HMS Iron Duke could be described as being 13.5in/45 (/45 refers to the barrel length – it is 45 x 13.5in shell calibres in length, ie 607.5in). German guns were classified in metric measurements, so that the main eight guns on SMS Lützow might be referred to as 30.5cm SK L/50 (‘SK’ referring to Schnellfeuerkanone, or fast-fire artillery); L/50 is comparable to the British barrel length.

  Time

  The times used are (unless specified) GMT and in military, 24-hour format (00:00). German literature often uses either Berlin summer time (GMT +2) or central European time (GMT +1).

  Rank equivalency: The Royal Navy and the High Seas Fleet

  Admiral of the Fleet

  Großadmiral

  Admiral

  Admiral

  Vice Admiral

  Vizeadmiral

  Rear Admiral

  Konteradmiral

  Commodore

  Kommodore

  Captain (senior)

  Kapitän zur See

  Captain (junior)

  Fregattenkapitän

  Commander

  Korvettenkapitän

  Lieutenant Commander

  Kapitänleutnant

  Lieutenant (senior)

  Oberleutnant zur See

  Lieutenant (junior)

  Leutnant zur See

  Sub Lieutenant

  Oberfähnrich zur See

  Naval Cadet/Midshipman

  Seekadette/Fähnrich zur See

  Additional abbreviations

  AdC

  Aide-de-camp

  CB

  Companion of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath

  C-in-C

  Commander-in-chief

  CMG

  Companion of the Most Distinguished Order of Saint Michael and Saint George

  CVO

  Commander of the Royal Victorian Order

  DF

  Destroyer Flotilla

  DSC

  Distinguished Service Cross

  DSO

  Distinguished Service Order

  Frhr

  Freiherr (title in the Prussian nobility, equivalent to baron)

  GFBO

  The Grand Fleet Battle Orders (Jellicoe)

  GFBI

  The Grand Fleet Battle Instructions (Beatty)

  HMS

  His Majesty’s Ship

  KCB

  Knight Commander of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath

  KCMG

  Knight Commander of the Most Distinguished Order of Saint Michael and Saint George

  KCVO

  Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order

  MVO

  Member of the Royal Victorian Order

  SMS

  Seiner Majestät Schiff (His Majesty’s Ship)

  TOD

  Time of Dispatch

  TOR

  Time of Receipt

  1SL

  First Sea Lord

  2IC

  Second-in-command

  Digital resources

  Digitally animated maps of the Battle of Jutland, the official British and German track charts, as well as a large amount of other reference materials (gunnery and signal logs, ship data, Jutland-related events and artefacts around the world, teaching and academic resources) are available to view on line at www.Jutland1916.com. These make understanding the evolution of this complex battle considerably easier for the reader.

  Introduction

  There were many battles within, and around, the Battle of Jutland. There was the initial battle-cruiser action from which the British came out decidedly the worse off. There was the ‘run to the north’, in which Rear Admiral Hugh Evan-Thomas’s Queen Elizabeth-class battleships, the latest and most heavily gunned British ships of the time, evened up the score, in some senses rescuing the equally heavily gunned but faster, lightly armoured battle-cruisers of his immediate but temporary superior, Sir David Beatty, from the jam in which they had become enmeshed. There was also the Grand Fleet deployment, a dangerously slow but in the end decisive manoeuvre, putting the British between their opponent’s forces and their home bases. Finally, there were the night actions, so often overlooked, yet rich with stories of extraordinary smaller-ship courage – and equally extraordinary for the lack of signals and personal initiative, particularly by major British ships.

  The Battle of Jutland, fought at the end of May 1916, pitted two nations’ power, and had been awaited by the British and the Germans with equal impatience. For more than a hundred years after Nelson’s victory at Trafalgar in 1805 the British had basked in a period of unbroken naval supremacy. No nation came close to challenging them. Britain’s naval reviews were an awesome and premeditated display of imperial maritime power. Yet there was an inherent flaw in the apparently impregnable hardware: too much washed teak and gleaming brass, and not enough modernity, speed and professionalism.

  Ever since 1897, when Kaiser Wilhelm II brought Alfred Tirpitz to the helm of the German naval ministry, Germany’s path towards Der Tag, its day of reckoning, was navigated by these two men. The smaller German fleet was professional and single-mindedly built for one purpose alone, that of ending Britain’s stranglehold on Germany’s close sea-lanes in the North Sea. Ship for ship, it was of the highest quality. Jutland thus brought to a head a twenty-year arms race, the accelerator of which was Britain’s launching of HMS Dreadnought in 1906. The advent of this fast, well-armoured and very heavily gunned battleship was a military game-changer.

  By 1909 the race had reached a critical point. This was the year in which Britain’s naval establishment first felt that it could no longer rely on what was publicly voted for in Germany to act as the guide by which it needed to make sure it always held the competitive edge in ships. Strong rumours were circulating that Germany was secretly stockpiling key elements – for example, turrets and barrels – and was speeding up the annual building programme to try to gain an upper hand in the balance of dreadnoughts.

  The year 1909 was also the one in which Britain’s Admiralty first asked for six dreadnoughts, and came up against David Lloyd George’s and Winston Churchill’s fierce opposition, based on their strong, populist, Liberal agenda: the Navy should, the two insisted, accept four. The Navy fought back and, in the context of increased fears not only of Germany’s intention to build a bigger, stronger fleet of dreadnoughts to counter Britain’s, but also the prospect of other naval powers joining the dreadnought-building race, eight were finally agreed upon.

  When the two rival forces, Germany’s High Seas Fleet and Britain’s Grand Fleet, met early on the evening of 31 May, it seemed as if the North Sea climax had finally arrived. Yet the first engagement had taken place over the preceding three hours. The two fleets’ scouting elements, the British Battle Cruiser Fleet, and the Germans’ First and Second Scouting Groups, had met up with sudden ferocity. When the massed dreadnoughts came within reach of each other’s guns, British sea power had already received a bloody nose.

&
nbsp; Sir David Beatty’s force of six battle-cruisers, the greyhounds of the British Navy, along with four of the most powerful ships on the sea that day on either side – the 15in-gunned battleships of Hugh Evan-Thomas’s 5th Battle Squadron – were lured by Admiral Franz Hipper’s supposed flight into a full-scale and disastrous chase, ending with the sinking of two British battle-cruisers, Indefatigable and Queen Mary, and the loss of more than two thousand British sailors’ lives. Beatty’s and Evan-Thomas’s ships had faced a numerically far inferior German force. However, at the end of the ‘run to the north’, Beatty was able to lure Hipper and Scheer into the guns of the Grand Fleet. It was a courageous and brilliant run, designed to give the impression that he was fleeing Hipper’s forces, but one also that was dearly paid for.