THE ACTION: FIRST PHASE
When the enemy was sighted at 3:30, Sir David formed his ships for action in a line of bearing, so that, in the northeasterly wind, the smoke of one ship should not interfere with the fire of the rest. His course was east-southeast, and he was converging on that of the enemy, who was steering rather more directly south. By the time the line was formed the range was about 23,000 yards, and at twelve minutes to four had been closed to 18,500, when both sides opened fire simultaneously. When the range had closed to about 14,000 yards or less, parallel courses were steered and kept until the end of this phase of the engagement. The Fifth Battle Squadron, consisting of four ships of the Queen Elizabeth class, under the command of Admiral Evan-Thomas, at the time when Sir David formed his battle-line, was about 10,000 yards off—not straight astern of the battle-cruisers, but bearing about half a right angle to port. The course that would bring them immediately into the line of the Battle Cruiser Fleet, then, was not parallel to that steered by Sir David Beatty, but a course converging on to it. It was this that enabled them, with their inferior speed, to come into action at eight minutes past four, though only then at the very long range of 20,000 yards.
The interval had been singularly unfortunate for the British side. Indefatigable (Captain Sowerby) had the misfortune to be hit by a shell in a vulnerable spot. The destruction of the ship was instantaneous, and almost the entire personnel, including the ship’s very gallant Captain, was lost. An exactly similar misfortune later befell Queen Mary. Neither ship had, in any sense of the word, been overwhelmed by the gunfire of the enemy. Indeed, when Queen Mary went down, the enemy’s fire, which had been singularly accurate and intense in the first phase of the action had, as the Vice-Admiral says in his despatch, slackened. The superior skill, due chiefly to the wider experience of the British fire-control organizations, had already begun to tell—the enemy’s fire-control being evidently unable to survive the damage, and losses of action.
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The first phase; from Von Hipper’s coming into view, until his juncture with Admiral Scheer
Sir David Beatty’s main force was thus reduced first by one-sixth, and then by one-fifth of its number, so that he was now left with four ships against the German five. But three of these ships disposed of broadsides of 13.4’s, the fourth employing a gun equal to the most powerful in the German armament. In weight and power of broadside the British cruisers still had the advantage, and it is clear that their rate of fire was faster, and their aiming and range-keeping more effective.
Just as the Fifth Battle Squadron came into action at ten minutes past four, a brisk and dramatic encounter took place between the light craft of the two sides. Two flotillas of destroyers and one squadron of light cruisers, it will be remembered, were stationed well ahead of the British flagship. Eight units of the Thirteenth Flotilla, together with two of the Tenth and two of the Ninth, had been designated for making an attack on the enemy’s line as soon as an opportunity offered. The opportunity came at 4:15. A destroyer attack is of course a torpedo attack, and is delivered by the flotilla engaged in steering a course converging toward that of the enemy. The destroyers must be well ahead of their targets if the attack is to be effective, so that the torpedo and the ship attacked shall be steering toward each other. These boats proceeded then, at 4:15, to initiate this manœuvre toward the enemy. It was almost simultaneously countered by an identical movement by the enemy, who had a considerable preponderance of force—fifteen destroyers and a cruiser against the British twelve destroyers. These two forces met before either had reached a position for effecting its main purpose, viz., the torpedo attack on the capital ships. A very spirited engagement followed. It was a close-quarters affair, and was carried through by the British destroyers in the most gallant manner and with great determination. Two of the enemy’s destroyers were sunk, and what was far more important, it was made quite impossible for him to carry through a torpedo attack. None of our boats went down. But just as the enemy’s boats had been unable to get a favourable position for attacking our battle-cruisers, so, too, the English boats, delayed by this engagement, were unable to get the desired position on the enemy’s bow for employing their torpedoes to the best advantage. Three of them, however, though unable to attack from ahead, pressed forward for a broadside attack on Von Hipper’s ships, and naturally came under a fierce fire from the secondary armament of these vessels. One of them, Nomad, was badly hit, and had to stop between the lines. She was ultimately lost. Nestor and Nicator held on between the lines until the German Battle Fleet was met.
For a full half hour these two boats had been either fighting an almost hand-to-hand action with the enemy’s boats, or had been under the close-range fire of Von Hipper’s battle-cruisers. They now found themselves faced by the German Battle Fleet. But they were at last in the right position for an attack. Both closed, in spite of the fire, to 3,000 yards and fired their torpedoes. It is believed that one hit was made. Nicator escaped and rejoined the Thirteenth Flotilla, but Nestor, though not sunk, was stopped, and had to be numbered amongst the losses when the action was over.
While this had been going forward, the artillery action between the two squadrons of battle-cruisers continued fierce and resolute. Sir Evan-Thomas’s battleships did their best with the rear of the enemy’s line, but were unable to reduce the range below 20,000 yards, if, indeed, they were unable to prevent the enemy increasing it. At 4:18 a second palpable evidence that the British fire was taking effect was afforded by the third of Von Hipper’s ships bursting into flames. The first evidence was, of course, the falling off in the rate of the enemy’s fire, and the still more marked deterioration in its accuracy.
It will be remembered that the Second Light Cruiser Squadron, under Commodore Goodenough, had got to its action station ahead of Sir David Beatty’s line a little while before the engagement opened with Von Hipper at half-past three. This squadron maintained its position well ahead, and at 4:38 reported the advent of Scheer with a German battle squadron from the south. They would then be from 20,000 to 24,000 yards off. Until Southampton sent in her message at 4:38, the British Admiral had no reason for knowing that the enemy Battle Fleet was out. Not that the knowledge would have affected the plan he actually carried out, for the immediate attack on Von Hipper was right in either event. But it was obvious that, with only four battle-cruisers, it was out of the question continuing the action as if the forces were equal. The Fifth Battle Squadron was out of range, and the Vice-Admiral’s first business was to concentrate his force, and then to judge how to impose his will upon the enemy in the matter of forcing him up to action with the Grand Fleet. The junction with Admiral Evan-Thomas could obviously not be delayed; as obviously the manœuvre was a dangerous one, for as each ship turned it would be exposed to the enemy’s fire without being able to reply. Had only speed of junction to be considered, the battle-cruisers could have been turned together when the rear ship on the old course would have become the leading ship on the new. The turn could probably be accomplished in less than three minutes. But seriously as the German fire had depreciated, it was not a thing with which liberties could be taken. Sir David Beatty, therefore, turned his ships one by one, thus keeping three in action while the first was turning; two while the second was turning—the first and second coming into action on a reverse course as the third and fourth turned from the old. At no time, then, was the fire of the British squadron reduced below that of two ships.
No sooner had Sir David turned than Von Hipper followed his example, and as the Vice-Admiral led up on the new course, he met Evan-Thomas with his four battleships directing a fierce fire on Von Hipper. These two squadrons were on opposite courses, and the change of range was rapid. The conditions for hitting were extremely difficult. Evan-Thomas was not yet in sight of the German Battle Fleet, and the Vice-Admiral told him to turn, as he had done, and to form up behind him. By the time this manœuvre was completed—that is, within a quarter of an hour of Sir David Beatty having begun his own turn—the head of Admiral Scheer’s line had got within range, and a brisk action opened between the leading German ships and the rear ships on the British side.
During this quarter of an hour, Commodore Goodenough in Southampton pushed south to ascertain the precise numbers and composition of the German force. It was of course of great moment, not only to the Vice-Admiral but to the Commander-in-Chief that the enemy’s strength should be ascertained as accurately and as soon as possible. But to do this the Commodore had to take his squadron under the massed fire of the German Dreadnoughts. He held on until a range of about 13,000 yards was reached and, having got the information he wanted, returned to form up with the Cruiser Fleet on its northerly course. His squadron was hardly hit: for though the fire was intense, here, too, the change of range was rapid, and far too difficult for the German fire-control to surmount.
CHAPTER XXII
The Battle of Jutland (Continued)
IV. THE SECOND PHASE
The flotillas and light cruiser squadrons were now regrouped—some ahead, some alongside of the battle-cruiser and battleship squadrons, and the whole steered to the northward, keeping approximately parallel to and well ahead of the German line. From the time when Scheer came into action at 4:57 until six o’clock, Sir David Beatty kept the range at about 14,000 yards. Both sides must have had some anxious moments during this critical hour. Sir David Beatty knew what Admiral Scheer did not—for the weather was too thick for the Zeppelins to give him the much-needed information—that he was falling back on Sir John Jellicoe, when of course overwhelming force could be brought to bear. His business was to keep Admiral Scheer in play, while exposing his ships, especially his battle-cruisers, as little as possible, consistent with their maintaining an efficient attack upon the enemy. Sir David was criticized for exposing his ships imprudently. Is this criticism well founded? Von Hipper’s battle-cruisers were at the head of the German line, but one had certainly fallen out of action by five o’clock, and one more was to leave the line in the course of this holding action. The battle-cruisers, however, did not affect the situation, for the German Fleet’s speed was that of the pre-Dreadnoughts in the rear, and this could not have exceeded 18 knots and was probably less. But the slowest ship in Sir David Beatty’s squadron could make at least 24. Nothing, therefore, could have been simpler than to have taken the whole force out of reach of Scheer’s guns whenever he chose. Had there at any stage been the remotest chance of the lightly armoured battle-cruisers being exposed to smothering fire from the German battleships, the danger could have been averted by the expedient of putting on more speed. Beatty’s main preoccupation, however, was not this. It was undoubtedly the fear that Scheer might retreat before the Grand Fleet could get up. He had, therefore, first to act as if he were a promising target, next to be ready with a counter-stroke if the Germans showed any sign of flight. How did he meet the first necessity of the position?
By keeping the range at 14,000 yards, at which the heavier projectile guns of the British artillery would have a distinct advantage over the German batteries, and by keeping so far ahead that it was impossible for Admiral Scheer to bring the fire of concentrated broadsides to bear, not only was an absolute inequality of gunnery conditions avoided, but it is probable that, so far as tactical disposition went, Sir David Beatty, as throughout the action, had so handled his ships as to be actually superior in fighting power over the forces he was engaging. I say “so far as tactical disposition was concerned,” advisedly, because a new element came into action at this point which favoured first one and then the other, and was ultimately to make long-range gunfire altogether nugatory.
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The second phase; Beatty engages the combined German Fleet, and draws it toward the Grand Fleet
Already between a quarter past four and half past, light mists had been driving down, and even before a quarter to five the outlines of Von Hipper’s squadron were becoming vague and shadowy to the British gun-layers. Between half-past five and six these conditions got very much worse. It handicapped the fire-control severely, and already they were beginning to feel, what the Commander-in-Chief says was a characteristic of the whole period during which the Grand Fleet was intermittently in action, viz., the extreme difficulty of using rangefinders in the shifting and indifferent light. How local and variable the mist was may be judged from the fact that the British line was not only free from mist, but was outlined sharply against the setting sun—thus giving a great advantage to the German rangefinders. It was this that largely neutralized the advantage which Sir David Beatty had so skilfully derived from the superior speed of his ships. No ships were lost on the British side during this part of the action. But it can hardly be doubted that had the conditions of visibility been the same for both sides, the head of the German line would have suffered more severely than it did from the Fifth Battle Squadron’s 15-inch guns. But, as we have seen, one of the battle-cruisers had to haul out severely damaged, and certain others showed unmistakable evidence of having suffered severely.
In this phase of the action, as in the first, the British destroyers made attacks on the German line, and it is believed that one ship, seen to be hopelessly on fire and emitting huge clouds of smoke and steam, owed her injuries to a torpedo fired by Moresby.
What was Admiral Scheer’s idea in following up the British squadron as he did? He knew that he had not the speed which would enable him to catch it. It was almost impossible—for he was now the pursuing squadron—to hope for any success from a destroyer attack. There was a risk that he might be caught and forced to engage by the Grand Fleet. There are, it seems, two explanations of his action. In the first place, he knew that Von Hipper had already sunk two of the British vessels. It was worth a considerable effort to try and get more, and in face of these losses Sir David Beatty’s movements may have looked so extremely like flight as to make him think that he had, to this extent, the upper hand, and that the British Admiral would be unlikely to risk his force again by seeking a close action. Apart from the risk of the Grand Fleet being out, then, there seemed to be everything to gain and nothing to lose by carrying on the chase.
But is it quite certain that his action was altogether voluntary? What would Sir David Beatty’s action have been had Scheer attempted to renounce the fight? There can be no hesitation in answering this question, for we only have to look at what Sir David actually did at six o’clock, when the Germans got news of the Grand Fleet’s approach and had to change tactics immediately. We shall find in this the clue to what would have happened had Scheer attempted to change course and withdraw earlier in the action.
The governing factors of the situation were, first, Beatty’s superior speed; secondly, his superior concentration of gun power, and, lastly, the greater efficacy of his guns at long range. The difference between the speed of the slowest ships in the British fast division, say 24½ knots, and that of the slowest in the German main squadron, say 18, was 6½ knots at least.
If Scheer had attempted simply to withdraw, he must have reversed the course of his fleet, either by turning his ships together or in succession. In the first case, the simplest of manœuvres would have brought the British Fleet into the T position across the German rear. And with a six-knot advantage in speed, Sir David could even have attempted the final tactics of Admiral Sturdee at the Falkland Islands, and pursued the flying force with his four battle-cruisers, engaging them from one side, and the Fifth Battle Squadron attacking them from the other. So disastrous, indeed, must this manœuvre have been to the Germans that it need not be considered as thinkable. The alternative was to lead round from the head of the line, when the choice would have arisen between a gradual change of course and a reverse of course, viz., a sixteen-point turn. The objections to the sixteen-point turn were precisely similar to those to turning the fleet together, with, perhaps, the added objection that the British would have had two lines of ships to fire into instead of only one—an advantage which would not have been counterbalanced by the enemy keeping one or two broadsides bearing, for they would be the broadsides of ships under full helm, and it is highly improbable that their fire would have been effective. When Scheer actually did break off battle, we shall find that he turned his fleet in succession through an angle of 135°. There were special reasons that made it obligatory he should do this, and special conditions which made it possible. Until he met the Grand Fleet, there was nothing to force him to turn, and the counter-stroke on which he relied to rob the turn of its chief dangers would not have been operative against the two squadrons of fast ships under Sir David Beatty’s command.
Had Scheer attempted such a turn as he actually made at 6:45, or had he initiated and continued such a manœuvre as he began at six o’clock, Beatty’s speed advantage would have enabled him to maintain his dominating position ahead of the German line. He could either have manœuvred to get round between Scheer and his bases, with a view to heading him north again, or, if he judged it hopeless to expect the Grand Fleet to reach the scene in daylight, could himself have reversed course and pounded the weak ships at the end of the German line unmercifully.
In any event, while it would be an exaggeration to say that he had the whip-hand of the enemy, it is no exaggeration to say that his force was so formidable and so fast as to make escape from it anything but a safe or a simple problem. The utmost Scheer could have hoped for would have been a long defensive action until darkness made attack impossible, or winning the mine-fields made pursuit too dangerous.
These considerations cannot be ignored in asking why it was that Scheer followed the British Admiral so obediently in the hour and a quarter between 4:57 and 6 P.M. But still less must we forget that had Scheer known earlier that the Grand Fleet was out, he would certainly have preferred the risk of a pursuit by Beatty to the chance of having to take on the whole of Sir John Jellicoe’s battle fleet.
At twenty-five minutes to six Admiral Scheer began hauling round to the east, changing his course, that is to say, gradually away from the British line. Sir David supposes that he had by this time received information of the approach of the Grand Fleet. This information might have come from Zeppelins, though in the weather conditions this would seem to have been improbable; or it might have come from some of his cruisers, which were well ahead, and had made contact with Hood’s scouts. But is this quite consistent with what Admiral Jellicoe says of Hood’s movements?
“At 5:30 this squadron observed flashes of gun-fire and heard the sound of guns to the southwestward. Rear-Admiral Hood sent Chester to investigate, and this ship engaged three or four enemy light cruisers at about 5:45.”
It is not stated that Rear-Admiral Hood saw the German light cruisers, and it seems improbable, then, that they saw him. Admiral Scheer could not have changed course at 5:35, because of the action of his scouts with Chester at 5:45. But her presence may have been signalled to him as soon as she was seen, and he may have concluded that the news could have but one significance, viz., that the Grand Fleet was coming down from the north. But is it altogether impossible that Scheer began his gradual easterly turn before suspecting that the Grand Fleet was out? Was he not, perhaps, already aware of the dangers of getting too far afield, and beginning that gradual turn which might keep Sir David Beatty’s ships in play as long as daylight lasted, without giving the openings which a direct attempt at flight would offer? Whatever the explanation of the movements, the enemy began this gradual turn and Sir David turned with him, increasing speed, so as to maintain his general relation to the head of the German line. At ten minutes to six some of the Grand Fleet’s cruisers were observed ahead, and six minutes later the leading battleships came into view. The moment for which every movement since 2:20 had been a preparation had now arrived—the Grand Fleet and the German Fleet were to meet.
CHAPTER XXIII
The Battle of Jutland (Continued)
V. THE THREE OBJECTIVES
The issue of the day would now depend upon how the commanders of the three separate forces appreciated the tasks set to them; the principles that governed the plans for their execution; the efficiency of their command in getting those principles applied; the resolution and skill with which the several units executed each its share in the operations. It was easy enough to define the task of each leader. Sir David Beatty had so far completely justified what seemed the general strategic plan of the British forces. He had driven the German fast divisions back to their main fleet, he had held that fleet for an hour and a half, and had brought it within striking distance of the overwhelmingly superior main forces of his own side. He had lost two capital ships and three destroyers to achieve his end to this point. He had the sacrifice of some thousands of his gallant companions to justify. Neither a parade nor a “gladiatorial display,” only the utter rout and destruction of the enemy’s fleet, could pay that debt. His task was not, therefore, complete. He had to help the Grand Fleet to deliver its blow with the concentration and rapidity that would render it decisive.
It was already obvious that rapidity would be vital. The weather conditions had been growing more and more unfavourable to the gunnery on which the British Fleet would rely for victory. Everything pointed to the conditions growing steadily worse. It was a case of seizing victory quickly or missing it altogether. Had there been no shifting mists there would have been two and a half or three hours of daylight on which to count. But with lowering clouds and heavy vapours, clear seeing at 10,000 or even 5,000 yards might be as impossible two hours before as two hours after sunset. Everything pointed, therefore, to this: the British attack would have to be instant—or it might not materialize at all. The Vice-Admiral commanding the Battle-Cruiser Fleet saw his duty clearly and simply. But to decide exactly what action he should take was a different thing altogether.
No less clear was the task of the British Commander-in-Chief. Twelve miles away from him was the whole naval strength of the enemy, 150 miles from his mine-fields, more than 200 from his fleet bases. Against sixteen modern battleships, he himself commanded twenty-four—a superiority of three to two. His gun-power, measured by the weight and striking energy of his broadsides, must have been nearly twice that of the enemy; measured by the striking energy and the destructive power of its heavier shells, it was greater still. Opposed to the enemy’s five battle-cruisers, there were four under the command of Sir David Beatty and three led by Rear-Admiral Hood. Against the six 18-knot pre-Dreadnoughts that formed the rear of the German Fleet, with their twenty-four 11-inch guns firing a 700-pound shell, there were Rear-Admiral Evan-Thomas’s four 25-knot ships of the Fifth Battle Squadron, carrying thirty-two 15-inch guns, whose shells were three times as heavy and must have been nine times as destructive. This force, vastly superior if it could be concentrated for its purpose, had to be deployed for a blow which, if simultaneously delivered at a range at which the guns would hit, must be final in a very brief period.
The German Admiral could never have had the least doubt as to his task. His business was to save his fleet from the annihilation with which it was manifestly menaced. So far fortune had been kind. The British Battle-Cruiser Fleet had done what the Germans had expected it to do. It had engaged promptly and determinedly and its losses, surprisingly enough, had been suffered, not while it was holding a force greatly superior to itself, but while engaging Von Hipper, whose ships were less numerous and more lightly armed. Though Scheer did not expect an encounter with the Grand Fleet, he was very far from being unprepared, should it come. Accordingly, when at six o’clock he realized that the supreme moment had arrived, he was probably as little in doubt as to his method of executing his task, as to the character of the task itself.