The Crisis of the Naval War

by John Rushworth Jellicoe

The enemy had a great choice of objectives. These were: first, the traffic in the Channel or the destroyers watching the Straits (the most important military objective); second, the merchant ships anchored in the Downs; third, the British monitors anchored off Dunkirk; fourth, the French ports, Dunkirk, Boulogne and Calais, and the British port of Dover; and fifth, the British undefended towns of Ramsgate, Margate, Lowestoft, etc., which German mentality did not hesitate to attack.

A glance at Chart F [Transcriber's note: Not preserved in book.] will show how widely separated are these objectives and how impossible it was for the small Dover force to defend them all simultaneously, especially during the hours of darkness. Any such attempt would have led to a dispersion of force which would have been criminal. The distance from Dunkirk along the French coast to Calais, thence to Dover and along the English coast to the North Foreland is 60 miles. The distance at which an enemy destroyer can be seen at night is about a quarter of a mile, and the enemy could select any point of the 60 miles for attack, or could vary the scene of operations by bombarding Lowestoft or towns in the vicinity, which were only 80 miles from Zeebrugge and equally vulnerable to attack, since the enemy's destroyers could leave their base before dark, carry out their hurried bombardment, and return before daylight. In whatever quarter he attacked he could be certain of great local superiority of force, although, of course, he knew full well that the first sign of an attack would be a signal to our forces to try to cut him off from his bases. Therein lay the reason for the tip-and-run nature of the raids, which lasted for a few minutes only. The enemy realized that we should endeavour to intercept his force as soon as it had disclosed its presence. The Germans had naturally to take the risk of encountering our vessels on the way to his objectives, but at night this risk was but slight.

As it was obviously impossible to prevent bombardments by stationing destroyers in adequate force for the protection of each town, the only possible alternative, unless such bombardments were ignored, was to give the most vulnerable points protection by artillery mounted on shore. This was a War Office, not an Admiralty, responsibility; but as the War Office had not the means available, the Admiralty decided to take the matter in hand, and in the spring of 1917 some 6-inch naval guns taken from our reserves were mounted in the vicinity of the North Foreland. Further, an old monitor, which was of no use for other work owing to her machinery being unfit, was moored to the southward of Ramsgate, and her guns commanded the Downs. Searchlights were also mounted on shore, but more reliance was placed on the use of star shells, of which the earliest supplies were sent to these guns. The result was immediately apparent. German destroyers appeared one night later on off the North Foreland and opened fire, which was returned by the monitor and the shore guns. The enemy immediately withdrew, and never appeared again in 1917 in this neighbourhood.

Meanwhile efforts had been made to increase the strength of the Dover force, and by the end of June it stood at 4 flotilla leaders, 29 modern destroyers (including "Tribal" class), 10 old 30-knotters, and 6 "P" boats. The increase in strength was rendered possible owing to the relief of destroyers of the "M" and "L" classes at Harwich by new vessels recently completed and by the weakening of that force numerically. The flotilla leaders were a great asset to Dover, as, although they were coal-burning ships and lacked the speed of the German destroyers, their powerful armament made it possible for them to engage successfully a numerically greatly superior force. This was clearly shown on the occasion of the action between the Broke and Swift and a German force of destroyers on the night of April 20-21, 1917.

The flotilla leaders on that occasion were, as was customary, patrolling at the Dover end of the cross-Channel barrage. The enemy's destroyers were in two detachments. One detachment, consisting apparently of four boats, passed, it was thought, round the western end of the barrage at high tide close to the South Goodwin Buoy, and fired a few rounds at Dover. The other detachment of two boats went towards Calais, and the whole force seems to have met at a rendezvous prior to its return to its base.

The Broke and Swift intercepted them on their return, and after a hot engagement succeeded in sinking two of the enemy vessels, one being very neatly rammed by the Broke (Captain E.R.G.R. Evans, C.B.), and the second sunk by torpedoes. Some of the remaining four boats undoubtedly suffered serious damage. Our flotilla leaders were handled with conspicuous skill, and the enemy was taught a lesson which resulted in his displaying even greater caution in laying his plans and evincing a greater respect for the Dover force for many months.

The success of the Broke and Swift was received with a chorus of praise, and this praise was undoubtedly most fully deserved, but once again an example was furnished of the manner in which public attention becomes riveted upon the dramatic moments of naval warfare whilst the long and patient labour by which the dramatic moments are brought about is ignored.

Thus in this case, but little attention was drawn to the years of arduous work performed by the Sixth Flotilla in the Straits of Dover by day and by night, in dense fogs, heavy gales and blinding snowstorms, in waters which were constantly mined, and in the face of an enemy who was bound to be in greatly superior force whenever he chose to attack.

Little thought was given either to the wonderful and most gallant work carried out by the drifters of the Patrol, manned largely by fishermen, and practically defenceless against attack by the German destroyers.

The careful organization which conduced to the successful action was forgotten. Sir Reginald Bacon has told the story of all this work in his book, and I need not repeat it. But let it be added that victory depends less on such enheartening incidents, welcome as they are, than on the patient and usually monotonous performance of duty at sea by day and by night in all weathers, and on the skill in organization of the staff ashore in foreseeing and forestalling enemy activity on a hundred and one occasions of which the public necessarily knows nothing.