"By now our Commander-in-Chief had realized the danger threatening our fleet, the van of which was enclosed in a semicircle by the hostile fleet. We were, in fact, absolutely 'in the soup' (in absoluten Wurstkessel)! There was only one way to get clear of this tactically disadvantageous position: to turn the whole fleet about and steer on an opposite course. First to evade this dangerous encirclement. But the maneuver must be unobserved and executed without interference. The battle-cruisers and torpedo-boats must cover the movement of the fleet. At about[1] 9.12 the Commander-in-Chief made the signal to alter course, and almost simultaneously made by W/T [wireless] the historic signal to the battle-cruisers and torpedo-boats: 'Charge the enemy!' (Ran an den Feind!) Without turning a hair the captain ordered 'Full speed ahead, course south-east.' Followed by the Seydlitz, Molke, and Von der Tann, we steamed at first south-east, then, from 9.15 onward, directly towards the head of the enemy's line.
[Footnote 1: There was a difference of two hours in time between the German and the English standard.]
"And now an infernal fire was opened on us, especially on the Derfflinger, as leading ship. Several ships were concentrating their fire upon us. I selected a target and fired as rapidly as possible. The range closed from 12,000 to 8,000 meters, and still we steamed full speed ahead into this inferno of fire, presenting a splendid target to the enemy, while he himself was very difficult to see. Salvo after salvo fell in our immediate vicinity, and shell after shell struck our ship. They were the most exciting minutes. I could no longer communicate with Lt. von Stosch (who was in the foretop control), as the telephone and voice-pipes had been shot away, so I had to rely an my own observations to direct the fire. At 9.13, previous to which all four 12 in. turrets were in action, a serious catastrophe occurred. A 15 in. shell penetrated the armor of No. 3 turret and exploded inside. The gallant turret captain, Lt. von Boltenstern, had both his legs torn off, and with him perished practically the entire guns' crew. The explosion ignited three cartridges, flames from which reached the working chamber, where eight more cartridges were set on fire, and passed down to the magazine, igniting still more cartridges. They burned fiercely, the flames roaring high above the turret—but they burned only, they did not explode—as our enemy's cartridges had done—and that saved the ship! Still, the effect of the burning cartridges was catastrophic; the flames killed everything within their reach. Of the 78 men of the turret crew only five escaped, some badly wounded, by crawling out through the holes for expelling empty cartridge cases. The remaining 73 men died instantly. A few seconds after this catastrophe another disaster befell us. A 15 in. shell pierced the shield of No. 4 turret and burst inside, causing frightful destruction. With the exception of one man, who was blown out of the turret hatch by the blast of air, the entire crew, including all the men in the magazines and shell-rooms, 80 souls in all, were instantly killed. All the cartridges which had been taken out of their metal cases were ignited, so that flames were now shooting sky-high from both the after turrets....
"The enemy's shooting was splendid. Shell after shell crashed into us, and my heart stood still as I thought of what must be happening inside the ship. My thoughts were rudely disturbed. Suddenly it was to us as if the world had come to an end. A terrific roar, a mighty explosion, and then darkness fell upon us. We shook under a tremendous blow, which lifted the conning-tower bodily off its base, to which it sank back vibrating. A heavy shell had struck the gunnery control station about 20 inches from me. The shell burst, but did not penetrate because it had hit the thick armor at an angle, but huge pieces of plating were torn away.... We found, however, that all the artillery connections were undamaged. Splinters had penetrated the lookout slits of the conning-tower, wounding several people inside. The explosion had forced open the door, which jammed, and two men were unable to move it. But help from an unexpected quarter was at hand. Again we heard a terrific roar and crash, and with the noise of a thunderbolt a 15 in. shell exploded beneath the bridge. The blast of air swept away everything that was not firmly riveted down, and the chart-house disappeared bodily. But the astounding thing was that this same air pressure closed the door of the conning-tower! The Englishman was polite; having first opened the door, he carefully shut it again for us. I searched with my glass for the enemy, but, although the salvos were still falling about us, we could see practically nothing of him; all that was really visible were the huge, golden-red flames from the muzzles of his guns.... Without much hope of hurting the enemy I fired salvo after salvo from the forward turrets. I could feel how our shooting was calming the nerves of the crew. Had we not fired at this moment the whole ship's company would have been overpowered by a great despair, for everyone knew that a few minutes more of this would finish us. But so long as we fired things could not be so bad with us. The medium guns fired also, but only two of the six 5.9's on one side were still in action. The fourth gun was split from end to end by a burst in the muzzle, and the third was shot to pieces...."
The battle-cruisers were recalled just in time—so it would appear—to save them from annihilation, and Com. von Hase proceeds:
"All hands were now busy quelling the fires. Thick clouds of yellow gas still poured from both after turrets, but the flooding of the magazines soon got rid of this. None of us had believed that a ship could stand so many heavy hits. Some twenty 15 in. hits were counted after the battle, and about the same number of bad hits from smaller calibers. The Lützow was out of sight (she sank later), but the Seydlitz, Moltke, and Von der Tann were still with us. They, too, had been badly punished, the Seydlitz worst of all. Flames still roared from one of her turrets, and all the other ships were burning. The bow of the Seydlitz was deep in the water. Every battle-cruiser had suffered severe casualties.... But the death charge had achieved its purpose by covering the retreat of the battle fleet.... Our ship was very heavily battered, and in many places the compartments were mere heaps of débris. But vital parts were not hit, and, thanks to the strong armor, the engines, boilers, steering gear, and nearly all auxiliaries were undamaged. For a long time the engine-room was filled with noxious fumes, necessitating the use of gas masks. The entire ship was littered with thousands of large and small shell splinters, among which we found two practically undamaged 15 in. shell caps, which were later used in the wardroom as wine coolers. The belt armour was pierced several times, but either the leaks were stopped or the inflow of water was localized in small compartments. In Wilhelmshaven we buried our dead, nearly 200 in all."
By 8 o'clock the German battleships had vanished, with the British steering westward by divisions in pursuit. But never again did the two battle fleets regain touch with each other. Occasional contact with an enemy vessel was made by other units of Jellicoe's force. About 8.20 another destroyer attack was threatened, and again Jellicoe swerved away, at the same time, however, sending the Fourth Light Cruiser Squadron and two destroyer flotillas, which succeeded in breaking up the attempt. At 8.30 he reformed his fleet in column and continued on a southwesterly course until 9 o'clock.
Fourth Phase
As darkness came on, Jellicoe, declining to risk his ships under conditions most favorable to torpedo attack, arranged his battleships in four squadrons a mile apart, with destroyer flotillas five miles astern, and sent a mine-layer to lay a mine field in the neighborhood of the Vyl lightship, covering the route over which the Germans were expected to pass if they attempted to get home via the Horn Reef. He then headed southeast. Beatty also drew off from pursuit with his battle cruisers. Jellicoe's plan was to avoid a general night action, but to hold such a position as to compel the Germans to fight again the following morning in order to reach their bases. During the night (between ten and 2.35) there were several sharp conflicts, mainly between the destroyers and light cruisers of the opposing fleets, with considerable loss on both sides. On the British side, two armored cruisers, Black Prince and Warrior, went down—both crippled by damages sustained during the day—and five destroyers. Six others were severely damaged. On the German side, the battle cruiser Lützow sank as a result of her injuries, the predreadnought battleship Pommern was blown up by a torpedo, three light cruisers were sunk, and four or five other ships suffered from torpedo or mine.
The contacts made by British destroyers and cruisers confirm the accounts of the Germans as to the course of their fleet during the night. About nine o'clock Scheer changed course sharply from west to southeast and cut through the rear of the British fleet. At dawn, about 2.40, he was twenty miles to eastward of Jellicoe on the road to Wilhelmshaven. At noon the greater part of the German fleet was safe in port. Some of the lighter ships, to escape the assaults of the British destroyers during the night, headed north and got home by way of the Skagerrak and the Kiel Canal.