PLAN SHOWING THE DEPLOYMENT OF THE BATTLE FLEET
Joining battle about ten minutes to four, at a range of ten and a half miles, both sides pressed the attack with the utmost vigour, and it was within a few minutes of the opening of the engagement that the Indefatigible, struck on a turret over a well-filled magazine, was sunk, thus equalizing the numbers of the opposing battle-cruisers. Meanwhile the 15-inch guns of the great Queen Elizabeth had begun to speak at a range of fourteen miles, and, at the same time, submarines were reported on both sides of the line of battle. These were driven off by the destroyers Lydiard and Landrail and the Light Cruiser Nottingham, and, a few minutes later, a concerted destroyer-attack was launched upon the enemy cruisers. This was conducted by the Nestor, Nomad, Nicator, Narborough, and Nerissa, the Pelican, Petard, Obdurate, Moorsom, and Morris, and the Turbulent and Termagant; and, almost simultaneously, a like attack was observed to be in formation on the part of the enemy, fifteen of his destroyers and a light cruiser being thus intercepted and engaged at close quarters.
By half-past four, therefore, the Battle of Jutland had already developed into the biggest of the war. Racing southward at thirty miles an hour were fourteen of the most powerful vessels in the world, belching half-ton shells in giant parabolas covering eight to a dozen miles of sea; while, in between them, and under the arch of their fire, were some thirty of the latest destroyers fighting a separate battle, as it were, at close quarters and with the greatest ferocity. On our own side, an 18,000-ton battle-cruiser had already been lost with most of her crew, while the enemy's third of the line was seen to be on fire in the mists now beginning to gather in the northeast. Two enemy destroyers were also sunk in the mêlée of the mosquito-craft; but, while they were driven back in disorder, our own torpedo-attack had been compromised, the destroyers, owing to this fight, having fallen some way behind the big battle-cruisers that were their objectives. They were thus at a distinct disadvantage, but nevertheless, having disposed of the enemy counter-attack, the three destroyers, Nestor, Nomad, and Nicator, proceeded on their original errand—where, for the moment, we may leave them chasing the enemy battle-cruisers and being themselves heavily bombarded.
It was now twenty minutes to five, and a message from the Southampton, scouting ahead to the south, had suddenly transformed not only the immediate situation, but the entire future outlook of the action. Just below the horizon, but soon to be above it, was the whole of the German Battle Fleet—such were the tidings rapped out to his chief by Commodore Goodenough of the Southampton. So far Admiral Beatty's problem had been a comparatively simple one, and the forces at his disposal ample for its solution. But now he was to be thrown, for an indefinite period, into a position of almost crushing inferiority, yet with the possibility in front of him, if the enemy could be tempted to the point of rashness, of leading up to a victory of the first magnitude.
For another four minutes he held his course, and then, having sighted the German Battle Fleet to the southeast, he recalled his destroyers, and headed for the northwest, determining to take full advantage of his superior speed. Before doing so, however, he had sustained, at about half-past four, yet another and most serious loss in the sinking of the Queen Mary, after a violent explosion, caused by an enemy salvo. With the Queen Mary we are already familiar, owing to her presence at the Battle of the Bight; and, to her three fellow-members of the First Battle-Cruiser Squadron, her loss was irreparable. Between these splendid cruisers, the Lion, the Tiger, the Princess Royal, and the Queen Mary, there had grown to be a bond of deep and justifiable pride—a sort of consciousness of each other's aristocracy, nonchalantly concealed, but not lightly to be challenged; while, apart from this, the Queen Mary was one of the finest gunnery ships in the Fleet. Something of the ordeal that she went through may best be gathered, perhaps, from the account afterward given by one of her rescued midshipmen.
"A salvo of German shells," he said, "hit the quarterdeck, setting the whole of that part on fire. A few minutes afterward a terrific explosion occurred in the second magazine. Both our guns were then right back on their slides and out of action. The general opinion was that the whole turret had been unseated by the German salvo. The officer of the turret told me that the ship was sinking rapidly and that I was to get the turret crew out as quickly as possible, which I did. The officer then told me to carry out the usual routine: 'Every man for himself.' I left the turret through the hatch on the top and found the ship was lying on her side. She was broken amidship, with the stern and bows both sticking out of the water at an acute angle. I sat on the turret for a few moments, and while there I thought I saw several men fall into the water. The stern was on fire and red hot. Then an explosion blew the whole bow right out of the water, causing the after part of the ship to give a tremendous lurch, and throwing me off the turret into the water. Just before I struck the water, I heard another terrific explosion above my head, as apparently the after magazine exploded. When I came to the surface of the water, nothing of the Queen Mary was to be seen, except a lot of wreckage, spars, and that sort of thing. The Tiger was steaming behind us during the action, and probably passed right over the spot where the Queen Mary had gone down. The Queen Mary took only about a minute to sink. I remained in the water a long time, clinging to a spar, and saw a destroyer come up, and saw her turn round and make off again. A few minutes afterward, the Fifth Battle Squadron (comprising the Queen Elizabeth type of ship) steamed past at about 23 knots, firing continually. The enemy shots were mostly falling short. One enemy shell exploded in the water close to where I was, and the concussion knocked me off my spar, causing me to lose consciousness. The next thing I remember was finding myself, about four hours later, in the forecastle of a destroyer. I was told that I had been picked up by their whaler about thirty-five minutes after the Queen Mary had been blown up. I was found on a large hatch which was floating in the water."