While concentrating and forming his squadron, Admiral Cradock must have pondered whether he should fight or retreat. The Canopus he knew was laboring northward 250 miles away. It was highly doubtful whether he could bring the enemy into action later with his slow battleship in line. His orders were to "search and protect trade." "Safety," we are told, "was a word he hardly knew." But his best justification lay in the enemy's menace to commerce and in the comment of Nelson upon a similar situation, "By the time the enemy has beat our fleet soundly, they will do us no more harm that year." It was perhaps with this thought that Admiral Cradock signaled to the Canopus, "I am going to fight the enemy now."

At about 6 p.m. the two columns were 18,000 yards distant on southerly converging courses. The British, to westward and slightly ahead, tried to force the action before sunset, when they would be silhouetted against the afterglow. Their speed at this time, however, seems to have been held up by the auxiliary cruiser Otranto, which later retreated southwestward, and their efforts to close were thwarted by the enemy's turning slightly away. Admiral von Spee in fact secured every advantage of position, between the British and the neutral coast, on the side away from the sun, and on such a course that the heavy seas from east of south struck the British ships on their engaged bows, showering the batteries with spray and rendering useless the lower deck guns.

At 7 o'clock the German ships opened fire at 11,260 yards. The third salvo from the Scharnhorst disabled the Good Hope's forward 9.2-inch gun. The Monmouth's forecastle was soon on fire. It seems probable indeed that most of the injury to the British was inflicted by accurate shooting in this first stage of the action. On account of the gathering darkness, Admiral von Spee allowed the range to be closed to about 5500 yards, guiding his aim at first by the blaze on the Monmouth, and then for a time ceasing fire. Shortly before 8 o'clock a huge column of flame shooting up between the stacks of the Good Hope marked her end. The Monmouth sheered away to westward and then northward with a heavy list that prevented the use of her port guns. An hour later, at 9.25, with her flag still flying defiantly, she was sunk by the Nuernberg at point blank range. The Glasgow, which had fought throughout the action, but had suffered little from the fire of the German light cruisers, escaped in the darkness.



"It is difficult," writes an American officer, "to find fault with the tactics of Admiral van Spee; he appears to have maneuvered so as to secure the advantage of light, wind, and sea, and to have suited himself as regards the range."[1] The Scharnhorst was hit twice, the Gneisenau four times, and the German casualties were only two men wounded.

[Footnote 1: Commander C. C. Gill, NAVAL POWER IN THE WAR, p. 51.]



This stinging blow and the resultant danger aroused the new Board of Admiralty to energetic moves. Entering the Atlantic, the German squadron might scatter upon the trade routes or support the rebellion in South Africa. Again, it might double westward or northward in the Pacific, or pass in groups of three, as permitted by American rules, through the Panama Canal into the West Indies. Concerted measures were taken against these possibilities. Despite the weakening of the Grand Fleet, the battle cruisers Invincible and Inflexible under Admiral Sturdee, former Chief of Admiralty Staff, sailed on November 11 for the Falkland Islands. Their destination was kept a close secret, for had the slightest inkling of their mission reached German ears it would at once have been communicated to von Spee.

After the battle, the German admiral moved slowly southward, coaling from chartered vessels and prizes; and it was not until December 1 that he rounded the Horn. Even now, had he moved directly upon the Falklands, he would have encountered only the Canopus, but he again delayed several days to take coal from a prize. On December 7 the British battle cruisers and other ships picked up in passage arrived at the island base and at once began to coal.

Their coming was not a moment too soon. At 7.30 the next morning, while coaling was still in progress and fires were drawn in the Bristol, the signal station on the neck of land south of the harbor reported two strange vessels, which proved to be the Gneisenau and the Nuernberg, approaching from the southward. As they eased down to demolish the wireless station, the Canopus opened on them at about 11,000 yards by indirect fire. The two ships swerved off, and at 9.40, perceiving the dense clouds of smoke over the harbor and what appeared to be tripod masts, they fell back on their main force.

Hull down, and with about 15 miles' start, the Germans, had they scattered at this time might, most of them at least, have escaped, as they certainly would have if their approach had been made more cautiously and at a later period in the day. The British ships were now out, with the fast Glasgow well in the lead. In the chase that followed, Admiral van Spee checked speed somewhat to keep his squadron together. Though Admiral Sturdee for a time did the same, he was able at 12.50 to open on the rear ship Leipzig at 16,000 yards. At 1.20 the German light cruisers scattered to southwestward, followed by the Cornwall, Kent, and Glasgow. The 26-knot Bristol, had she been able to work up steam in time, would have been invaluable in this pursuit; she was sent instead to destroy three enemy colliers or transports reported off the islands.

Between the larger ships the action continued at long range, for the superior speed of the battle cruisers enabled Admiral Sturdee to choose his distance, and his proper concern was to demolish the enemy with his own ships unscathed. At 2.05 he turned 8 points to starboard to clear the smoke blown down from the northwest and reduce the range, which had increased to 16,000 yards. Admiral von Spee also turned southward, and the stern chase was renewed without firing until 2.45. At this point both sides turned to port, the Germans now slightly in the rear and working in to 12,500 yards to use their 5.9-inch guns.

At 3.15 the British came completely about to avoid the smoke, and the Germans also turned, a little later, as if to cross their bows. (See diagram.) The Gneisenau and Scharnhorst, though fighting gamely, were now beaten ships, the latter with upper works a "shambles of torn and twisted iron," and holes in her sides through which could be seen the red glow of flames. She turned on her beam-ends at 4.17 and sank with every man an board. At 6 o'clock, after a fight of extraordinary persistence, the Gneisenau opened her sea-cocks and went down. All her 8-inch ammunition had been expended, and 600 of her 850 men were disabled or killed. Some 200 were saved.

Against ships with 12-inch guns and four times their weight of broadside the Gneisenau and Scharnhorst made a creditable record of over 20 hits. The British, however, suffered no casualties or material injury. While Admiral Sturdee's tactics are thus justified, the prolongation of the battle left him no time to join in the light cruiser chase, and even opened the possibility, in the rain squalls of the late afternoon, that one of the armored cruisers might get away. In spite of a calm sea and excellent visibility during most of the action, the gunnery of the battle cruisers appears to have been less accurate at long range than in the later engagement off the Dogger Bank.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF THE FALKLAND ISLANDS, DEC. 8, 1914

From Official British Naval History, Vol. I.

British Squadron Name Type Guns Speed Invincible Battle Cruiser 8—12", 16—4" 26.5 Inflexible Battle Cruiser 8—12", 16—4" 26.5 Carnarvon Armored Cruiser 4—7.5", 6—6" 23.0 Cornwall Armored Cruiser 14—6" 23.5 Kent Armored Cruiser 14—6" 23.0 Bristol Scout Cruiser 2—6", 10—4" 26.5 Glasgow Scout Cruiser 2—6", 10—4" 26.5 Canopus Coast Defense 4—12", 12—6" 16.5

German Squadron Scharnhorst Armored Cruiser 8—8.2", 6—6" 23.5 Gneisenau Armored Cruiser 8—8.2", 6—6" 23.5 Leipzig Protected Cruiser 10—4" 23.0 Nuernberg Scout Cruiser 10—4" 24.0 Dresden Scout Cruiser 10—4" 24.0]

Following similar tactics, the Glasgow and Cornwall overtook and finally silenced the Leipzig at 7 p.m., four hours after the Glasgow had first opened fire. Defiant to the last, like the Monmouth at Coronel, and with her ammunition gone, she sank at 9.25, carrying down all but 18 of her officers and crew. The Kent, stoking all her woodwork to increase steam, attained at 5 o'clock a position 12,000 yards from the Nuernberg, when the latter opened fire. At this late hour a long range action was out of the question. As the Nuernberg slowed down with two of her boilers burst, the Kent closed to 3000 yards and at 7.30 finished off her smaller opponent. The Dresden, making well above her schedule speed of 24 knots, had disappeared to southwestward early in the afternoon. Her escape entailed a long search, until, on March 14, 1915, she was destroyed by the Kent and Glasgow off Juan Fernandez, where she had taken refuge for repairs.

Cruise of the "Emden"

Among the German cruisers other than those of Admiral van Spee's squadron, the exploits of the Emden are best known, and reminiscent of the Alabama's famous cruise in the American Civil War. It may be noted, however, as indicative of changed conditions, that the Emden's depredations covered only two months instead of two years. A 3600 ton ship with a speed of 25 knots, the Emden left Kiao-chau on August 6, met von Spee's cruisers in the Ladrones on the 12th, and on September 10 appeared most unexpectedly on the west side of the Bay of Bengal. Here she sank five British merchantmen, all following the customary route with lights aglow. On the 18th she was off the Rangoon River, and 6 days later across the bay at Madras, where she set ablaze two tanks of the Burma Oil Company with half a million gallons of kerosene. From September 26 to 29 she was at the junction of trade routes west of Ceylon, and again, after an overhaul in the Chagos Archipelago to southward, spent October 16-19 in the same profitable field. Like most raiders, she planned to operate in one locality not more than three or four days, and then, avoiding all vessels on her course, strike suddenly elsewhere. During this period, British, Japanese, French, and Russian cruisers—the Germans assert there were 19 at one time—followed her trail.

The most daring adventure of Captain von Mueller, the Emden's skipper, was now carried out in the harbor of Penang, on the west side of the Malay Peninsula. With an additional false funnel to imitate British county-class cruisers, the Emden at daybreak of October 28 passed the picket-boat off the harbor unchallenged, destroyed the Russian cruiser Jemtchug by gunfire and two torpedoes, and, after sinking the French destroyer Mousquet outside, got safely away. The Russian commander was afterward condemned for letting his ship lie at anchor with open lights, with only an anchor watch, and with strangers at liberty to visit her.

Steaming southward, the raider made her next and last appearance on the morning of November 9 off the British cable and wireless station on the Cocos Islands. As she approached, word was promptly cabled to London, Adelaide, and Singapore, and—more profitably—was wirelessed to an Australian troop convoy then only 45 miles away. The Emden caught the message, but nevertheless sent a party ashore, and was standing outside when the armored cruiser Sydney came charging up. Against the Emden's ten 4.1-inch guns, the Sydney had eight 6-inch guns, and she was at least 4 knots faster. Outranged and outdone in speed, the German ship was soon driven ashore in a sinking condition, with a funnel down and steering gear disabled. During her two months' activity thus ended, the Emden had made 21 captures, destroying ships and cargoes to the value of over $10,000,000.

The other German cruisers were also short-lived. The Karlsruehe, after arming the liner Kronprinz Wilhelm off the Bahamas (August 6) and narrowly escaping the Suffolk and the Bristol by superior speed, operated with great success on the South American trade routes. Her disappearance—long a mystery to the Allies—was due to an internal explosion, just as she was about to crown her exploits by a raid on the island of Barbados. The Koenigsberg, on the east coast of Africa, surprised and sank the British light cruiser Pegasus while the latter lay at Mombasa, Zanzibar, making repairs. She was later bottled up in the Rufigi River (October 30) and finally destroyed there (July 11, 1915) by indirect fire from monitors, "spotted" by airplanes.



Of the auxiliary cruisers, the Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse was sunk by the Highflyer (August 26), and the Cap Trafalgar went down after a hard fight with the Carmania (September 14). The Prinz Eitel Friedrich, which had entered the Atlantic with von Spee, interned at Newport News, Virginia, in March, 1915, and was followed thither a month later by the Kronprinz Wilhelm.

The results of this surface warfare upon commerce amounted to 69 merchant vessels, totaling 280,000 tons. With more strict concentration upon commerce destruction, and further preparations for using German liners as auxiliaries, the campaign might have been prolonged and made somewhat more effective. But for the same purpose the superiority of the submarine was soon demonstrated. To take the later surface raiders: the Wolf sank or captured 20 ships in 15 months at sea; the Seeadler, 23 in 7 months; the Moewe 15 in 2 months. But many a submarine in one month made a better record than these. The opening of Germany's submarine campaign, to be treated later, was formally announced by her blockade proclamation of February 4, 1915.

The Dogger Bank Action

The strategic value of the battle cruiser, as a means of throwing strength quickly into distant fields, was brought out in the campaign against von Spee. As an outcome of German raids on the east coast of England, its tactical qualities, against units of equal strength, were soon put to a sharper trial. Aside from mere Schrecklichkeit—a desire to carry the terrors of war to English soil—these raids had the legitimate military objects of helping distant cruisers by holding British ships in home waters, of delaying troop movements to France, and of creating a popular clamor that might force a dislocation or division of the Grand Fleet. The first incursion, on November 3, inflicted trifling damage; the second, on December 16, was marked by the bombardment of Scarborough, Hartlepool, and Whitby, in which 99 civilians were killed and 500 wounded. The third, on January 24 following, brought on the Dogger Bank action, the first encounter between battle cruisers, and one of the two capital ship actions of the war.

At dawn on this date, the Derfflinger, Seydlitz (flagship of Admiral von Hipper), Moltke, and armored cruiser Bluecher, with 4 light cruisers and two destroyer flotillas, were moving westward about midway in the North Sea on a line between Heligoland and the scene of their former raids. Five battle cruisers under Admiral Beatty were at the same time approaching a rendezvous with the Harwich Force for one of their periodical sweeps in the southern area. The Harwich Force first came in contact with the enemy about 7 a.m. Fortunately for the Germans, they had already been warned of Beatty's approach by one of their light cruisers, and had just turned back at high speed when the British battle cruisers made them out to southeastward 14 miles away. The forces opposed were as follows:

- Dis- Best Dis- Best British place- Armor Guns recent German place- Armor Guns recent ment speed* ment speed - - - - - - Lion 26,350 9" 8 13.5" 31.7 Derfflinger 26,180 13" 8 12" 30 Tiger 28,500 9" 8 13.5" 32 Seydlitz 24,610 11" 10 11" 29 Princess 28,350 9" 8 13.5" 31.7 Moltke 22,640 11" 10 11" 28.4 Royal New Zealand 18,800 8" 8 12" 29 Bluecher 15,550 6" 12 8.2" 25.3 Indomitable 17,250 7" 8 12" 28.7 -

[Footnote *: Jane's FIGHTING SHIPS, 1914.]



Settling at once to a stern chase, the British ships increased speed to 28.5 knots; while the Germans, handicapped by the slower Bluecher, were held down to 25. At 8.52 the Lion was within 20,000 yards of the Bluecher, and, after deliberate ranging shots, scored her first hit at 9.09. As the range further decreased, the Tiger opened on the rear ship, and the Lion shifted to the third in line at 18,000 yards. The enemy returned the fire at 9.14. Thus the action continued, both squadrons in lines of bearing, and Beatty's ships engaged as a rule with their opposites in the enemy order.



At 9.45 the German armored cruiser had suffered severely, and ships ahead also showed the effects of the heavier enemy fire. Under cover of a thick smoke screen from destroyers on their starboard bow, and a subsequent destroyer attack, the Germans now shifted course away from the enemy and the rear ships hauled out on the port quarter of their leader to increase the range. The British cruisers, according to Admiral Beatty's report, "were ordered to form a line of bearing N.N.W., and proceed at their utmost speed." An hour later the Bluecher staggered away to northward. Badly crippled, she was assigned by Beatty to the Indomitable, and was sunk at 12.37. At 10.54 submarines were reported on the British starboard bows.

Just after 11 the flagship Lion, having received two hits under water which burst a feed tank and thus put the port engine out of commission, turned northward out of the line. Though the injury was spoken of as the result of a "chance shot," the Lion had been hit 15 times. About an hour later Admiral Beatty hoisted his flag in the Princess Royal, but during the remainder of the battle Rear Admiral Moore in the Tiger had command. Judging from the fact that the Tiger was hit only 8 times in the entire action and the Princess Royal and the New Zealand not at all, there seems to have been little effort at this time to press the attack. The British lost touch at 11.50, and turned back at noon.

In the lively discussion aroused by the battle, the question was raised why the Bluecher was included in the German line. Any encounter that developed on such an excursion was almost certain to be with superior forces, against which the armored cruiser would be of slight value. In a retreat, the "lame duck" would slow down the whole squadron, or else must be left behind.

During the first hour of the battle, the British gained about three knots, and brought the range to 17,500 yards. The range after 9.45 is not given, but was certainly not lowered in a corresponding degree. This may have been due to increased speed on the part of the German leaders, or to the interference of German destroyers, which now figured for the first time as important factors in day action. Two of these attacks were delivered, one at 9.40 and another about an hour later, and though repulsed by British flotillas, they both caused interference with the British course and fire.

The injury to the Lion, in the words of Admiral Beatty, "undoubtedly deprived us of a greater victory." The British wireless caught calls from Hipper to the High Seas Fleet, which (though this seems strange at the time of a battle cruiser sortie) is declared by the Germans to have been beyond reach at Kiel.[1] Worried by the danger to the Lion in case of retreat before superior forces, and in the belief that he was being led into submarine traps and mine fields, Admiral Moore gave up the chase. The distance to Heligoland was still at least 70 miles; the German ships were badly injured; the course since 9.45 had been more to the northward; the Grand Fleet was rapidly approaching the scene. The element of caution, seen again in the Jutland battle 15 months later, seems to have prevented pressing the engagement to more decisive results.

[Footnote 1: Capt. Persius, Naval and Military Record, Dec. 10, 1919.]

The conditions of flight and pursuit obtaining at the Dogger Bank emphasized the importance of speed and long range fire. Owing to the fact that they had twice the angle of elevation (30 degrees), the German 11-inch and 12-inch guns were not outranged by the British 13.5-inch guns; and at 17,000 yards their projectiles had no greater angle of fall. The chief superiority of the larger ordnance therefore lay in their heavier bursting charges and greater striking energy, 12,800 foot-tons to 8,900 foot-tons. According to a German report, the first salvo that hit the Seydlitz knocked out both after-turrets and annihilated their crews; and the ship was saved only by flooding the magazines.[1]

[Footnote 1: Admiral van Scheer, quoted in Naval and Military Record, London, March 24, 1920.]

The Dardanelles Campaign

Throughout the war a difference of opinion existed in Allied councils as to whether it was better to concentrate all efforts in the western sphere of operations, or to assail the Central Powers in the Near East as well, where the accession of Turkey (and later of Bulgaria) threatened to put the resources of all southeastern Europe under Teutonic control, and even opened a gateway into Asia. Such a division of effort was suggested not only by the necessity of protecting the Suez Canal, Egypt, and Mesopotamia, but by the difficulty of breaking the stalemate on the western front, and by the opportunity that would be offered of utilizing Allied control of sea communications. Furthermore, the Allies had a margin of predreadnoughts and cruisers ready for action and of no obvious value elsewhere.

On November 3, 1914, three days after Turkey entered the war, an Allied naval force that had been watching off the Dardanelles engaged the outer forts in a 10-minute bombardment, of no significance save perhaps as a warning to the Turks of trouble later on. In the same month the First Lord of the British Admiralty, Mr. Winston Churchill, proposed an attack on the Straits as "an ideal method of defending Egypt"; but it was not seriously considered until, on January 2, Russia sent an urgent appeal for a diversion to relieve her forces in the Caucasus. Lord Kitchener, the British Minister of War, answered favorably, but, feeling that he had no troops to spare, turned the solution over to the Navy.

From the first the decision was influenced by political considerations. Russia needed assurance of Allied solidarity—and it is significant that in February Lord Grey announced that England no longer opposed Russia's ambition to control Constantinople. Nine-tenths of Russia's exports were blocked by the closing of the Straits; their reopening would afford not only access to her vast stores of foodstuffs, but an entry—infinitely more convenient than Vladivostok or Archangel—for munitions and essential supplies. The Balkan States were wavering. In Turkey there was a strong neutral or pro-Ally sentiment. Victory would give an enormous material advantage, help Russia in the impending German drive on her southwestern frontier, and bolster Allied prestige throughout the eastern world.

Faced with the problem, the Admiralty sent an inquiry to Admiral Carden, in command on the scene, as to the practicability of forcing the Dardanelles by the use of ships alone, assuming that old ships would be employed, and "that the importance of the results would justify severe loss." He replied on January 5: "I do not think the Dardanelles can be rushed, but they might be forced by extended operations with a large number of ships." In answer to further inquiries, accompanied by not altogether warranted assurance from the First Lord that "High authorities here concur in your opinion," Admiral Carden outlined four successive operations:

(a) The destruction of defenses at the entrance to the Dardanelles.

(b) Action inside the Straits, so as to clear the defenses up to and including Cephez Point battery N8.



(c) Destruction of defenses of the Narrows.

(d) Sweeping of a dear channel through the mine-field and advance through the Narrows; followed by a reduction of the forts further up, and advance into the Sea of Marmora.

This plan was presented at a meeting of the British War Council on January 13. It may be noted at this point that the War Council, though composed of 7 members of the Cabinet, was at this time dominated by a triumvirate—the Premier (Mr. Asquith), the Minister of War (General Kitchener), and the First Lord of the Admiralty (Mr. Churchill); and in this triumvirate, despite the fact that England's strength was primarily naval, the head of the War Office played a leading role. The First Sea Lord (Admiral Fisher) and one or two other military experts attended the Council meetings, but they were not members, and their function, at least as they saw it, was "to open their mouths when told to." Staff organizations existed also at both the War Office and the Admiralty, at the latter consisting of the First Lord, First Sea Lord and three other officers not on the Admiralty Board. The working of this improvised and not altogether ideal machinery for the supreme task of conducting the war is interestingly revealed in the report[1] of the commission subsequently, appointed to investigate the Dardanelles Campaign.

[Footnote 1: British ANNUAL REGISTER, 1918, Appendix, pp. 24 ff., from which quotations here are taken.]

"Mr. Churchill," according to this report, "appears to have advocated the attack by ships alone before the War Council on a certain amount of half-hearted and hesitating expert opinion." Encouraged by his sanguine and aggressive spirit, the Council decided that "the Admiralty should prepare for a naval expedition in February to bombard and take the Gallipoli Peninsula with Constantinople as its objective." In view of the fact that the operation as then conceived was to be purely naval, the word "take" suggests an initial misconception of what the navy could do. The support for the decision, especially from the naval experts, was chiefly on the assumption that if Admiral Carden's first operation were unpromising, the whole plan might be dropped.

Admiral Fisher's misgivings as to the wisdom of the enterprise soon increased, owing primarily to his desire to employ the full naval strength in the home field. He did not believe that "cutting off the enemy's big toe in the East was better than stabbing him to the heart." He had begun the construction of 612 new vessels ranging from "hush-hush" ships of 33 knots and 20-inch guns to 200 motor-boats, and he wished to strike for access to the Baltic, with a threat of invasion on Germany's Baltic coast. The validity of his objections to the Dardanelles plan appears to depend on the practicability of this alternative, which was not attempted later in the war. The First Lord and the First Sea Lord presented their difference of opinion to the Premier, but it appears that there was no ill feeling; Admiral Fisher later writes that "Churchill had courage and imagination—he was a war man."

At a Council meeting on January 28, when the decision was made definite, Admiral Fisher was not asked for an opinion and expressed none. (The Investigation Commission declare that the naval experts should have been asked, and should have expressed their views whether asked or not.) But there was a dramatic moment when, after rising as if to leave the Council, he was quickly followed by Lord Kitchener, who pointed out that all the others were in favor of the plan, and induced him once more to take his seat. After the decision, Mr. Churchill testifies, "I never looked back. We had left the region of discussion and consultation, of balancings and misgivings. The matter had now passed into the domain of action."

To turn to the scene of operations, there were now assembled at the Dardanelles 10 British and 4 French predreadnoughts, together with the new battleship Queen Elizabeth, the battle cruiser Inflexible, and many cruisers and torpedo craft. On February 19, 1915, again on February 25-26, and on March 1-7, this force bombarded the outer forts at Kum Kale and Sedd-el-Bahr and the batteries 10 miles further up at Cephez Point. These were in part silenced and demolished by landing parties. Bad weather, however, interfered with operations, and there was also some shortage of ammunition. The batteries, and especially the mobile artillery of the Turks, still greatly hampered the work of mine sweeping, which at terrible hazards was carried on at night within the Straits.

In the meantime the Government, to quote General Callwell, the Director of Military Operations, had "drifted into a big military attack." But the despatch from England of the 29th Division, which was to join the forces available in Egypt, was delayed; owing to Lord Kitchener's concern about the western situation, from Feb. 22 to March 16—an unfortunate loss of time. By March 17, however, the troops from Egypt and most of the French contingent were assembled at the island of Lemnos, and General Sir Ian Hamilton had arrived to take command. His instructions included the statement that "employment of military forces on any large scale at this juncture is only contemplated in the event of the fleet failing to get through after every effort has been exhausted. Having entered on the project of forcing the Straits, there can be no idea of abandoning the scheme."

On March 11 the First Lord sent to Admiral Carden a despatch asking whether the time had not arrived when "you will have to press hard for a decision," and adding: "Every well-conceived action for forcing a decision, even should regrettable losses be entailed, will receive our support." The Admiral replied concurring, but expressing the opinion that "in order to insure my communication line immediately fleet enters Sea of Marmora, military operations should be opened at once." On March 16 he resigned owing to ill health, and his second in command, Admiral de Robeck, succeeded, with the feeling that he had orders to force the Straits.

The attack of March 18 was the crucial and, as it proved, the final action of the purely naval campaign. At this time the mines had been swept as far up as Cephez Point, and a clear channel opened for some distance beyond. During the morning the Queen Elizabeth and 5 other ships bombarded the Narrows forts at 14,000 yards. Then at 12.22 the French predreadnoughts Suffren, Gaulois, Charlemagne, and Bouvet approached to about 9000 yards and by 1.25 had for the time being silenced the batteries of the Narrows. Six British battleships now advanced (2.36) to relieve the French. In the maneuvering and withdrawal, the Biouvet was sunk by a drifting mine[1] with a loss of over 600 men, and the Gaulois was hit twice under water and had to be beached on an island outside the Straits. About 4 o'clock the Irresistible also ran foul of a mine and was run ashore on the Asiatic side, where most of her men were taken off under fire. The Ocean, after going to her assistance, struck a mine and went down about 6 o'clock. Not more than 40 per cent. of the injuries sustained in the action were attributable to gunfire, the rest to mines sent adrift from the Narrows. Of the 16 capital ships engaged, three were sunk, one had to be beached, and some of the others were hardly ready for continuing the action next day.

[Footnote 1: It is stated that an ingenious device caused these mines to sink after a certain time and come back on an under-current that flows up the Dardanelles, and then rise at the Narrows for recovery. This may have enabled the Turks to keep up their presumably limited supply of mines; but how well the automatic control worked is not known.]



There is some military support for the opinion that if, on the 18th or at some more suitable time, the fleet had acted in the spirit of Farragut's "Damn the torpedoes! Full steam ahead!" and, protected by dummy ships, bumpers, or whatever other devices naval ingenuity could devise, had steamed up to and through the Narrows in column, it would not have suffered much more severely than during the complicated maneuvering below. Of such an attack General von der Goltz, in command of the Turkish army, said that, "Although he thought it was almost impossible to force the Dardanelles, if the English thought it an important move in the general war, they could by sacrificing ten ships force the entrance, and do it very fast, and be up in Marmora within 10 hours from the time they forced it."[l] Admiral Fisher estimated that the loss would be 12 ships.

[Footnote 1: Repeated by Baron van Wangenheim to Ambassador Morgenthau, prior to the attack of March 18, AMBASSADOR MORGENTHAU'S STORY, World's Work, September, 1918. See also Col. F. N. Maude, Royal Engineers, Contemporary Review, June, 1915.]

After such deductions, there would be no great surplus to deal with the Goeben, which would fight desperately, and with the defenses of Constantinople. Indeed, such losses would seem absolutely prohibitive, if viewed only from the narrow standpoint of the force engaged, and without taking into fullest account the limited value of the older ships and the fact that the Government was fully committed to a prosecution of the campaign. It is of course easy to see that victory purchased by the loss of 10 predreadnoughts and 10,000 men would be cheap, as compared with the sacrifice of over 100,000 men killed and wounded and 10,000 invalided in the later campaign on land.

General Callwell has pointed out that the naval commanders were properly worried about what would happen after they got through the Straits, if the Sublime Porte should not promptly "throw up the sponge." "The communications would have remained closed to colliers and small craft by movable armament, if not also by mines. Forcing the pass would in fact have resembled bursting through a swing door. Sailors and soldiers alike have an instinctive horror of a trap, and they are in the habit of looking behind them as well as before them."[1] But according to Ambassador Morgenthau, who was probably in a better position than any one else to form an opinion, "The whole Ottoman State on the 18th day of March, 1915, was on the brink of dissolution." The Turkish Government was divided into factions and restive under German domination, and there was thus an excellent prospect that it would have capitulated under the guns of the Allied fleet. If not, then there might have been nothing left for the latter but to try to get back the way it came.

[Footnote 1: NINETEENTH CENTURY AND AFTER, March, 1919, p. 486.]

Feeling in Constantinople during the month from February 19th to March 19th has already been suggested; it was nervous in the extreme. Neither Turks nor Germans felt assured that the Dardanelles could withstand British naval power. Plans were made for a general exit to Asia Minor, and there was a conviction that in a few days Allied ships would be in the Golden Horn. At the forts, if we may believe evidence not as yet definitely disproved, affairs were still more desperate. The guns, though manned largely by Germans, were not of the latest type, and for a month had been engaged in almost daily bombardment. Ammunition was running short. "Fort Hamadie, the most powerful defense on the Asiatic side, had just 17 armor-piercing projectiles left, while at Killid-ul-Bahr, the main defense on the European side, there were precisely 10."[2] To this evidence may be added the statement of Enver Pasha: "If the English had only had the courage to rush more ships through the Dardanelles they could have got to Constantinople, but their delay enabled us to fortify the peninsula, and in 6 weeks' time we had taken down there over 200 Austrian Skoda guns."

[Footnote 2: AMBASSADOR MORGENTHAU'S STORY, World's Work, September, 1918, p. 433, corroborating the statement of the correspondent G. A. Schreiner, in FROM BERLIN TO BAGDAD.]

If Mr. Churchill was chiefly responsible for undertaking the campaign, he was not responsible for the delay after March 18. "It never occurred to me," he states, "that we should not go on." Admiral de Robeck in his first despatches appeared to share this view. On March 26, however, he telegraphed: "The check on March 18 is not, in my opinion, decisive, but on March 22 I met General Hamilton and heard his views, and I now think that, to obtain important results and to achieve the object of the campaign, a combined operation will be essential." This despatch, Mr. Churchill says, "involved a complete change of plan and was a vital decision. I regretted it very much. I believed then, as I believe now, that we were separated by very little from complete success." He proposed that the Admiral should be directed to renew the attack; but the First Sea Lord did not agree, nor did Admiral Sir Arthur Wilson, nor Admiral Sir Henry Jackson. So it was decided to wait for the army, and some satire has been directed at Mr. Churchill and those other "acknowledged experts in the technicalities of amphibious warfare," Mr. Balfour and Mr. Asquith, who were inclined to share his views. The verdict of the Dardanelles Commission was that, "Had the attack been renewed within a day or two there is no reason to suppose that the proportion of casualties would have been less; and, if so, even had the second attack succeeded, a very weak force would have been left for subsequent naval operations."

Once decided upon, it was highly essential that the combined operation should begin without further delay. But it was now found that the army transports had been loaded, so to speak, up-side-down, with guns and munitions buried under tents and supplies. Sending them back to Alexandria for reloading involved a six weeks' delay, though Lord Kitchener wired, "I think you had better know at once that I regard such postponement as far too long." The landing on the tip of the Gallipoli Peninsula, which was nearest the forts in the Straits and said to be the only feasible place, actually began on April 25, and was achieved under the guns of the fleet, and by almost unexampled feats of heroism by boats' crews and the first parties on shore.

Henceforth the navy played a subordinate though not insignificant part in the campaign. "By our navy we went there and were kept there," writes Mr. John Masefield in Gallipoli, "and by our navy we came away. During the nine months of our hold on the peninsula over 300,000 men were brought by the navy from places three, four, or even six thousand miles away. During the operations some half of these were removed by our navy, as sick and wounded, to ports from 800 to 3000 miles away. Every day, for 11 months, ships of our navy moved up and down the Gallipoli coast bombarding the Turk positions. Every day during the operations our navy kept our armies in food, drink and supplies. Every day, in all that time, if weather permitted, ships of our navy cruised in the Narrows and off Constantinople, and the seaplanes of our navy raided and scouted within the Turk lines."

On May 12 the predreadnought Goliath was torpedoed by a Turkish destroyer; and on May 25-26 the German submarine U 23, which had made the long voyage by way of Gibraltar, sank the Triumph and the Majestic. It was upon a forewarning of this attack that Admiral Fisher, according to his own statement, resigned as a protest against the retention of the Queen Elizabeth and other capital units in this unpromising field. British and French submarines, on the other hand, worked their way into the Sea of Marmora, entered the harbor of Constantinople, and inflicted heavy losses, including two Turkish battleships, 8 transports, and 197 supply vessels.

So almost unprecedented were the problems of a naval attack on the Dardanelles that it appears rash to condemn either the initiation or the conduct of an operation that ended in failure when seemingly on the verge of success. Clearly, the campaign was handicapped by lack of unanimous support and whole-hearted faith on the part of authorities at home. It was not thoroughly thought out at the start, and was subjected to trying delays. No advantage was ever taken of the invaluable factor of surprise. Even so, it was not wholly barren of results. It undoubtedly relieved Russia, kept Bulgaria neutral for at least five months, and immobilized 300,000 Turks, according to Lord Kitchener's estimate, for nine months' time. Nevertheless, the final failure was a tremendous blow to Allied prestige. Upon the withdrawal, in January of 1916, some of the troops were transferred to Salonika; and it is noteworthy that in Macedonia, as at Gallipoli, the army was dependent on the navy for the transport of troops, munitions, and in fact virtually everything needed in the campaign.

Aside from the Dardanelles failure, the naval situation at the end of 1915 was such as to give assurance to the Western Powers. They had converted potential control of the sea into actual control, save in limited areas on the enemies' sea frontiers. Germany had lost her cruisers and her colonies, and her shipping had been destroyed or driven from the seas. Though losses from submarines averaged 150,000 tons a month in 1915, they had not yet caused genuine alarm. The German fleet was still a menace, but, in spite of attrition warfare, the Grand Fleet was decidedly stronger than in 1914.

REFERENCES

BRITISH OFFICIAL NAVAL HISTORY, Sir Julian Corbett, London, 1920. THE GRAND FLEET, Admiral Jellicoe, London, 1918. THE BRITISH NAVY IN BATTLE, Arthur H. Pollen, London, 1919. MY MEMOIRS, Admiral van Tirpitz, 1919. THE GERMAN HIGH SEAS FLEET IN THE WORLD WAR, Vice Admiral van Scheer, 1920. U. S. NAVAL INSTITUTE PROCEEDINGS, WAR NOTES, 1914-1918. LES ENSEIGNEMENTS MARITIMES DE LA GUERRE ANTI-GERMANIQUE, Admiral Daveluy, Paris, 1919. IL POTERE MARITTIMO NELLA GRANDE GUERRA, Captain Romeo Bernotti, Leghorn, 1920. NAVAL POWER IN THE WAR, Commander C. C. Gill, New York, 1918.



CHAPTER XVII

THE WORLD WAR [Continued]: THE BATTLE OF JUTLAND

There was only one action between the British Grand Fleet and the German High Seas Fleet in the World War, the battle of Jutland. This was indecisive, but even in a history with the limits of this book it deserves a chapter of its own. In the magnitude of the forces engaged, a magnitude less in numbers of ships—great as that was—than in the enormous destructive power concentrated in those ships, it was by far the greatest naval battle in history. Moreover, this was the one fleet battle fought with the weapons of to-day. Any discussion of modern tactics, therefore, must be based for some time to come on an analysis of Jutland. Finally, the indecisiveness of the action has resulted in a controversy among naval critics that is likely to continue indefinitely. Meanwhile the debatable points are rich in interest and suggestion.

In earlier wars the nation with a more powerful fleet blockaded the ports of the enemy. In this war the sea mine, the submarine, the aircraft and the long-range gun of coast defenses made the old-fashioned close blockade impossible. Such blockade as could be maintained under modern conditions had to be "distant." The British made a base in the Orkneys, Scapa Flow, which had central position with relation to a possible sortie of the German fleet toward either the North Atlantic or the Channel. The intervening space of North Sea was patrolled by a scouting force of light vessels of various sorts and periodical sweeps by the Grand Fleet. On May 30, 1916, the Grand Fleet, under Admiral Jellicoe, set out from its base at Scapa Flow for one of these patrolling cruises. On the same day Vice Admiral Beatty left his base at Rosyth (in the Firth of Forth) with his advance force of battle cruisers and battleships, under orders to join Jellicoe at sea. On the following day the High Seas Fleet took the sea and the two great forces came together in battle.

It is not certain why the German fleet should have been cruising at this time. Having declined to offer battle in the summer of 1914, on account of the British superiority of force, the High Command could hardly have contemplated attacking in 1916 when the odds were much heavier. From statements published by German officers since the war, the objects seem to have been, first, to prevent a suspected attempt to force an entrance into the Baltic; secondly, to fall upon Beatty's Battle Cruiser Squadron, during its frequent patrolling cruises, when it was detached from the main force; and, thirdly, to destroy the British trading fleets which were conducting an important volume of commerce from the ports of Norway with England and Russia. It is not easy to see, however, why the High Seas Fleet should be sent out on a mere commerce destroying raid. The Germans had been out twice before, since April 1st of that year, and probably it was considered good policy to send the fleet to sea every now and then for the moral effect. The people could not relish the idea of their navy being condemned to inaction in their own harbors, and there was bad feeling over the fact that the government had just yielded to President Wilson's protest on ruthless submarine warfare. A victory over Beatty's battle cruisers, or some other detached unit of the British fleet, would have been very opportune in bracing German morale. At the same time Admiral von Scheer had probably reckoned on being able to avoid battle with the Grand Fleet by means of a swift retreat under cover of smoke screens and torpedo attacks. Certainly the odds were too heavy to permit of any other policy on his part.

The First Phase



At 2 p. m. of the 31st of May, 1916, the British main fleet, under Admiral Jellicoe, was in Latitude 57 deg. 57' N., Longitude 3 deg. 45' E. (off the coast of Norway), holding a south-easterly course. It consisted of 24 battleships formed in a line of six divisions screened by destroyers and light cruisers, as indicated in the accompanying diagram. Sixteen miles ahead of the battle fleet was the First Cruiser Squadron under Rear Admiral Arbuthnot and the Second Cruiser Squadron under Rear Admiral Heath; these consisted of four armored cruisers each. They were spread out at intervals of six miles, with the Hampshire six miles astern of the Minotaur to serve as link ship for signals to and from the main fleet. Four miles ahead was the Third Battle Cruiser Squadron of three ships under Rear Admiral Hood. These were steaming in column, screened by four destroyers and two light cruisers (Chester and Canterbury). The diagram on p. 388 shows the complete formation of the Battle Fleet and Cruiser Squadrons, under Admiral Jellicoe's personal command. It is interesting as an example of the extreme complexity of fleet formation under modern conditions, especially when it is realized that the whole fleet was proceeding on its base course by zigzagging.



Seventy-seven miles to the southward Vice Admiral Beatty, commanding the scouting force, was heading on a northeasterly course. His force was spread out in scouting formation. The First Battle Cruiser Squadron of four ships, headed by the flagship Lion, was flanked three miles to the eastward by the Second Battle Cruiser Squadron of two ships, and five miles to the north by the Fifth Battle Squadron, consisting of four of the finest battleships in the fleet, 25-knot Queen Elizabeths, under Rear Admiral Evan-Thomas. Each of these squadrons had its screen of destroyers and light cruisers. Eight miles to the south the First, Second, and Third Light Cruiser Squadrons were spread out in line at five-mile intervals. The formation is made clear by the accompanying diagram.

At the same hour, 2 p. m., Vice Admiral Hipper, with the German scouting force, was heading north about 15 to 20 miles to the southeast of Beatty. Hipper commanded the First Battle Cruiser Squadron, consisting of the Luetzow (flag), Derflinger, Seydlitz, Moltke, and Van der Tann, accompanied by a screening force of four or five light cruisers and about 15 destroyers. Fifty miles south of this advance force was the main body of the High Seas Fleet under Vice Admiral von Scheer. It consisted of three battle squadrons arranged apparently in one long column of 22 ships escorted by a screen of 62 destroyers, eight or ten light cruisers, and the one remaining armored cruiser in the German navy, the Roon.

Thus the stage was set and the characters disposed for the great naval drama of that day.



At 2.20 the light cruiser Galatea (v. diagram), which lay farthest to the east of Beatty's force, reported two German light cruisers engaged in boarding a neutral steamer. Beatty thereupon changed course toward Horn Reef Lightship in order to cut them off from their base, his light cruisers of the first and third divisions spreading out as a screen to the eastward. It would be interesting to know why, at this point, he did not draw in his battleships and thus concentrate his force, for when he did establish contact with the Germans, Evan-Thomas's squadron was too far away for effective support. Ten minutes later Hipper got word of British light cruisers and destroyers sighted to the westward and, changing course to northwest, he headed for them at high speed. At 2.45 Beatty sent out a seaplane from the Engadine to ascertain the enemy's position. This is the first instance in naval history of a fleet scouting by means of aircraft. The airplane came close enough to the enemy to draw the fire of four light cruisers, and returning reported their position. Meanwhile the Galatea had reported heavy smoke "as from a fleet."

At the first report from the Galatea, which had been intercepted on the flagship, Iron Duke, Jellicoe ordered full speed, and despatched ahead the Third Battle Cruiser Squadron, under Hood, to cut off the escape of the Germans to the Skagerrak, as Beatty was then heading to cut them off from their bases to the south. Admiral Scheer, also, on getting report of the English cruisers, quickened the speed of his main fleet.

At 3.30 Beatty and Hipper discovered each other's battle cruiser forces. Hipper turned about and headed on a southerly course to lead the British toward the advancing main fleet. Beatty also turned, forming his battle cruisers on a line of bearing to clear the smoke, and the two forces approached each other on converging courses as indicated in the diagram.

At this point it is worth while to compare the two battle cruiser forces:[1]

BRITISH GERMAN Displace- Displace- Name Armor ment Guns Name Armor ment Guns Queen Mary 9" 26,350 8 13.5" Luetzow 13" 26,180 8 12" Lion 9" 26,350 8 13.5" Derfflinger 13" 26,180 8 12" Tiger 9" 28,500 8 13.5" Seydlitz 11" 24,610 10 11" Princess Royal 9" 28,350 8 13.5" Moltke 11" 22,640 10 11" Indefatigable 8" 18,800 8 12" VonderTann 10" 19,100 11" New Zealand 8" 18,800 8 12" ———- ———- 145,150 118,710

[Footnote 1: Table from Lieut. Comdr. H. H. Frost, U. S. N., U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, Nov., 1919, p. 850.]

A glance shows the superiority of the British in guns and the German superiority in armor. The British had six ships to the German five, and if the four new battleships of Evan-Thomas's division could be effectively brought into action, the British superiority in force would be reckoned as considerably more than two to one. These battleships had 13" armor, eight 15" guns each, and a speed of 25 knots. They were the most powerful ships afloat.



In speed, Beatty had a marked advantage. He could make 29 knots with all six of his cruisers and 32 knots with his four best,—Queen Mary, Tiger, Lion, and Princess Royal. Hipper's squadron could make but 28 knots, though the Luetzow and Derfflinger were probably capable of 30.

At 3.48 British and German battle cruisers opened fire. According to Beatty's report the range at this moment was 18,500 yards. Beatty then turned to starboard, assuming a course nearly parallel to that of Hipper. Almost immediately, three minutes after the first salvo, the Lion, the Tiger, and the Princess Royal were hit by shells. In these opening minutes the fire of the Germans seems to have been fast and astonishingly accurate. The Lion was hit repeatedly, and at four o'clock the roof of one of her turrets was blown off. It is said that the presence of mind and heroic self-sacrifice of an officer saved the ship from the fate that subsequently overwhelmed two of her consorts. By this time the range had decreased to 16,000 yards (British reckoning) and Beatty shifted his course more to the south to confuse the enemy's fire control. Apparently this move did not succeed in its purpose for at 4.06 a salvo struck the Indefatigable on a line with her after turret, and exploded a magazine. As she staggered out of column and began sinking, another salvo smashed into her forward decks and she rolled over and sank like a stone.

About this time the Fifth Battle Squadron came into action, but it was not able to do effective service. The range was extreme, about 20,000 yards, and being some distance astern of the battle cruisers, on account of its inferior speed, it had to contend with the battle smoke of the squadron ahead as well as the gradually thickening atmospheric conditions. In addition the Germans frequently laid smoke screens and zigzagged. Evan-Thomas's division never saw more than two enemy ships at a time.

The shift of course taken by Beatty at four o'clock, accompanied possibly by a corresponding shift of Hipper, opened the range so far in a few minutes that fire slackened on both sides. Beatty then swung to port in order to close to effective range. At 4.15 twelve of his destroyers, acting on the general order to attack when conditions were favorable, dashed out toward the German line. At the same instant German destroyers, to the number of fifteen accompanied by the light cruiser Regensburg, advanced toward the British line, both forces maneuvering to get on the bows of the opposing battle cruisers. For this purpose the British flotilla was better placed because their battle cruisers were well ahead of the Germans. The German destroyers, therefore, concentrated their efforts on the battleship division, which turned away to avoid the torpedoes. In numbers the advantage lay with the Germans, and a fiercely contested action took place between the lines conducted with superb gallantry on both sides. The Germans succeeded in breaking up the British attack at a cost of two destroyers. Two of the British destroyers also were rendered unmanageable and sank later when the High Seas Fleet arrived on the scene.



Meanwhile, at 4.26, just before the destroyers clashed, a salvo struck the Queen Mary, blew up a magazine, and she disappeared with practically all on board. Thus the second of Beatty's battle cruisers was sent to the bottom with tragic suddenness.

At 4.38, Commodore Goodenough, commanding the Second Light Cruiser Squadron, who was scouting ahead of the battle cruisers, reported that the German battle fleet was in sight steering north, and gave its position. Beatty at once called in his destroyers and turned his ships in succession, sixteen points to starboard, ordering Evan-Thomas to turn similarly. Thus the capital ships turned right about on the opposite course, the battleships following the cruisers as before, and all heading for the main fleet which was then about fifty miles away to the north. Commodore Goodenough at this point used his initiative in commendable fashion. Without orders he kept on to the south to establish contact with the German battle fleet and hung on its flanks near enough to report its position to the commander in chief. He underwent a heavy fire, but handled his frail ships so skillfully as to escape serious loss. At the same time the constant maneuvering he was forced to perform or a defect in the British system of communication made his reports of bearing seriously inaccurate. Whatever the cause, this error created a difficulty for the commander in chief, who, fifty miles away, was trying to locate the enemy for attack by the Grand Fleet.

The Second Phase

The northward run of the British advance force and the German advance force, followed by their main fleet, was uneventful. The situation was at this stage exactly reversed. Beatty was endeavoring to lead the German forces into the guns of the Grand Fleet, while ostensibly he was attempting to escape from a superior force, much as Hipper had been doing with relation to Scheer during the first phase. Beatty's four remaining battle cruisers continued to engage the five German battle cruisers, at a range of 14,000 yards, assisted by the two leading ships of Evan-Thomas's Battle Squadron. The other two battleships engaged the head of the advancing German battle fleet at the extreme range of 19,000 yards as often as they could make out their enemy. The visibility grew worse and apparently neither side scored on the other.

As the British main fleet was reported somewhat to the east of Beatty's position, he bore toward that quarter; and Hipper, to avoid being "T-d" by his enemy, turned to the eastward correspondingly. The mistiness increased to such a degree that shortly after five o'clock Beatty lost sight of the enemy's battle cruisers and ceased fire for half an hour. Between 5.40 and six o'clock, however, conditions were better and firing was opened again by the British ships, apparently with good effect. Meanwhile clashes had already taken place between the light cruiser Chester, attached to the Third Battle Squadron of the main fleet, and the light cruisers of the enemy, which were far in advance of their battle cruisers.

The Third Phase

We have already noted that as soon as Jellicoe learned of the presence of the enemy he ordered Hood, with the Third Battle Cruiser Squadron, to cut off the German retreat to the Skagerrak and to support Beatty. Hood's course had taken him well to the east of where the action was in progress. At 5.40 he saw the flashes of guns far to the northwest, and immediately changed course in that direction. Fifteen minutes later he was able to open fire on German light cruisers, with his four destroyers darting ahead to attack with torpedoes. These light cruisers, which had just driven off the Chester with heavy losses, discharged torpedoes at Hood's battle cruisers and turned away. The latter shifted helm to avoid them and narrowly missed being hit. One torpedo indeed passed under the Invincible.

At this point another group of four German light cruisers appeared and Hood's destroyers advanced to attack them. The fire of the cruisers damaged two destroyers though not before one of them, the Shark, had torpedoed the German cruiser Rostock. The Shark herself was in turn torpedoed and sunk by a German destroyer. At about the same time action had begun between the ships of the armored cruiser squadron under Arbuthnot and another squadron of German light cruisers.

A moment later (at 5.56) Beatty sighted the leaders of the Grand Fleet and knew that contact with his support was established. At once he changed course to about due east and put on full speed in order to head off the German line, and by taking position to the eastward, allow the battle fleet to form line astern of his battle cruisers. Such an overwhelming force was now concentrated on the German light cruisers that they turned back. Of their number the Wiesbaden had been disabled by a concentration of fire and the Rostock torpedoed. Hipper then made a turn of 180 deg. with his battle cruisers in order to get back to the support of the battleships which he had left far to the rear. Then he turned round again, and continued to lead the German advance. All this time he seems to have had no suspicion that the Grand Fleet was in the neighborhood.



As Beatty dashed across the front of the approaching battle fleet he sighted Hood's Third Battle Cruiser Squadron ahead of him and signaled him to take station ahead. Accordingly Hood countermarched and led Beatty's line in the Invincible. Evan-Thomas was by this time so far in the rear of the speedier battle cruisers that he was unable to follow with Beatty, and in order to avoid confusion with the oncoming battle fleet he turned left 90 deg. in order to form astern of the Sixth Battle Division, by this move, however, leaving Beatty's cruisers unsupported. Meanwhile the armored cruisers of Arbuthnot were already under fire from Hipper's squadron and suffering severely. At 6.16 the Defense, the flagship of the squadron, blew up; the Warrior was badly disabled, and the Black Prince was so crippled as to be sunk during the night action. As Evan-Thomas made his turn, one of his battleships, the Warspite, was struck by a shell that jammed her steering gear in such a way as to send her head on toward the Germans. She served to shield the Warrior from destruction, but suffered thirty hits from heavy projectiles before she was brought under control and taken out of action.



Between six and 6.15 Jellicoe received bearings from Vice Admiral Burney (of the Sixth Battle Division), Evan-Thomas, and Beatty which enabled him for the first time to plot accurately the position of the German battle fleet. This information revealed the fact that previous plotting based on bearings coming from Goodenough and others was seriously wrong. The Germans were twelve miles to the west of where they were supposed to be. Jellicoe then formed line of battle, not on the starboard wing, which was nearest the head of the German advance, but on the port wing, which was farthest away, and speed was reduced to 14 knots in order to enable the battle cruisers to take station at the head of the line. Indeed some of the ships in the rear or sixth division had to stop their engines to avoid collision during deployment. By this time the ships of the sixth division began to come under the shells of the German battle fleet and they returned the fire. By half past six all sixteen of the German dreadnoughts were firing at the British lines, the slow predreadnoughts being so far to the rear as to be unable to take part. The battleship fire, however, neither at this point nor later showed the extraordinary accuracy displayed by the battle cruisers at the beginning, but this may possibly be attributed to the gathering mistiness that hung over the sea, darkened by the low-lying smoke from the host of ships.

As soon as Scheer realized that he had not only run right into the arms of the Grand Fleet, but lay in the worst tactical position imaginable with an overwhelming force concentrated on the head of his line, he turned away to escape. The battle cruisers (at 6.30) swung away sharply from east to south, the ships turning in succession. Meanwhile the torpedo flotillas tried to cover the turn by a gallant attack on the British battle line. At the same time smoke screens also were laid to cover the retirement. The Invincible, Hood's flagship, which was leading the British line, was at this juncture struck by a shell that penetrated her armor and exploded a magazine. The ship instantly broke in two and went to the bottom, and only four officers and two men were saved. Almost at the same instant the German battle cruiser Luetzow, Hipper's flagship, was so badly disabled by shells and torpedo that she fell out of line helpless. Hipper managed, however, to board a destroyer and two hours later succeeded in shifting his flag to the Moltke.



At 6.35 Scheer performed a difficult maneuver that the fleet had practiced for just the situation that existed at this time. He wheeled his battleships simultaneously to starboard, forming line again on a westerly course. Twenty minutes later, finding that he was no longer under fire from the Grand Fleet, he repeated the maneuver, the ships turning again to starboard and forming line ahead again on an easterly, then southerly course. These changes of course were made under cover of smoke screens and were not observed by the British.

By this time the Grand Fleet had formed line of battle on a southeasterly course and by 7.10 its leaders were concentrating their fire on the head of the German line, which was now caught under an overwhelming superiority of force. Unfortunately for the Germans the visibility conditions at this time were worse for them than for their enemy, for while the British ships were nearly or quite invisible, the Germans every now and then stood silhouetted against the western sky. The British fire at this time was heavy and accurate. The German fleet seemed marked for destruction.

For Scheer it was now imperative to withdraw if he could. Accordingly at this juncture he sent out a flotilla of destroyers in a desperate effort to cover the retreat of his fleet. They fired a number of torpedoes at the English battle line, and retired with the loss of one boat. Their stroke succeeded, for Jellicoe turned his whole line of battleships away to avoid the torpedoes. Beatty, holding his course at the head of the line, signaled Admiral Jerram of the King George V to follow astern, but he was evidently bound to the orders of his commander in chief. For the second time that day Beatty was left unsupported in his fight at the head of the line.

Meanwhile Scheer's capital ships had simultaneously wheeled away in line to the westward under cover of the torpedo attacks and smoke screens made by the destroyers. This was the third time within an hour that they had effected this maneuver, and the skill with which the battleships managed these turns in line under a rain of fire speaks well for German seamanship. Meanwhile, to reenforce the covering movement made by the destroyers, Scheer sent out his battle cruisers in a sortie against Beatty, who was pressing hard on the head of the German line. The following account from Commander von Hase of the Derfflinger, which led this sortie, is interesting not only for its description of what occurred at this time but also as a picture of a personal experience of the terrific fire that the battle cruisers of both sides had to sustain throughout the greater part of the engagement. It was on them that the brunt of the fighting fell. The narrative is quoted from the pages of the Naval and Military Record:

"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 Luetzow 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 debris. 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 Luetzow 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.

Jellicoe had avoided a night pursuit for the sake of fighting on better terms the next morning, but at dawn he found his destroyers scattered far and wide. Judging it unwise to pursue the High Seas Fleet without a screening force, and discovering by directional wireless that it was already south of Horn Reef and in the neighborhood of the mine fields, he gave up the idea of renewing the engagement and turned north. He spent the forenoon in sweeping the scene of the previous day's fighting, collecting his dispersed units, and then returned to his bases.

The claim of victory, which was promptly and loudly made by the German press, is absurd enough. After the Grand Fleet arrived there could be only one thought for the Germans and that was a fighting retreat. Nevertheless, they had every reason to be proud of what they had done. They had met a force superior by a ratio of about 8 to 5 and had escaped after inflicting nearly twice as much damage as they had sustained. These losses may be compared by means of the following table[1]:

BRITISH, Three Battle Cruisers, QUEEN MARY 26,350 tons INDEFATIGABLE 18,800 " INVINCIBLE 17,250 "

Three Armored Cruisers, DEFENSE 14,600 " WARRIOR 13,550 " BLACK PRINCE 13,350 "

Eight Destroyers, TIPPERARY 1,430 " NESTOR 890 " NOMAD 890 " TURBULENT 1,100 " FORTUNE 965 " ARDENT 935 " SHARK 935 " SPARROWHAWK 935 " —————— Total 111,980 tons

GERMANS, One Battle Cruiser LUETZOW 26,180 tons One Pre-dreadnought, POMMERN 13,200 " Four Light Cruisers, WIESBADEN 5,400 " ELBING 4,500 " ROSTOCK 4,900 " FRAUENLOB 2,700 "

Five Destroyers, V-4 570 " V-48 750 " V-27 640 " V-29 640 " S-33 700 " —————— Total 60,180 tons

Personnel, killed and wounded: BRITISH, about 6,600: GERMANS, 3,076.

[Footnote 1: Figures in these tables taken from Lieut. Comdr. H. H. Frost, U. S. N., U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, Jan., 1920, p. 84.]

With all allowance for the poor visibility conditions and the deepening twilight, it must be admitted also that Scheer handled his ships with great skill. Caught in a noose by an overwhelming force, he disentangled himself by means of the torpedo attacks of his destroyer flotillas and turned away under cover of their smoke screens. After nightfall he boldly cut through the rear of the British fleet in battle line, and reached his base in safety with the great bulk of his ships. Meanwhile at practically all stages of the fighting German gunnery was both rapid and accurate, the seamanship was admirable, and there was no lack of courage of the highest order.

As to material, Admiral Jellicoe notes the superiority of the German fleet in range-finding devices, searchlights, smoke screens, a star shell—unknown to the British and invaluable for night fighting—and in the armor piercing quality of the shells. Moreover the Germans were completely equipped with systems of director firing, while the British were not. According to Admiral Sir Percy Scott,[1] "at the Battle of Jutland ... the commander in chief had only six ships of his fleet completely fitted with director firing ... he had not a single cruiser in the fleet fitted for director firing."

[Footnote 1: FIFTY YEARS IN THE ROYAL NAVY, p. 278.]

The greatest superiority of all probably lay in the structural features of the newer German ships. For some years prior to the war Admiral von Tirpitz had devoted himself to the problem of under water protection, to localize the effect of torpedo and mine on the hull of a ship. To quote the words of von Tirpitz:[2]

[Footnote 2: MY MEMOIRS, Vol. I, p. 171.]

"We built a section of a modern ship by itself and carried out experimental explosions on it with torpedo heads, carefully testing the result every time. We tested the possibility of weakening the force of the explosion by letting the explosive gases burst in empty compartments without meeting any resistance. We ascertained the most suitable steel for the different structural parts, and found further that the effect of the explosion was nullified if we compelled it to pulverize coal in any considerable quantity. This resulted in a special arrangement of the coal bunkers. We were then able to meet the force of the explosion ... by a strong, carefully constructed steel wall which finally secured the safety of the interior of the ship."

The only German armored ship that succumbed to the blow of a single torpedo was the Pommern, an old vessel, built before the fruits of these experiments were embodied in the German fleet. The labor of von Tirpitz was well justified by the results, as may be seen by the instantaneous fashion in which the three British battle cruisers went to the bottom, compared with the ability of the German battle cruisers to stand terrific pounding and yet stay afloat and keep going. According to the testimony of a German officer,[1] the Luetzow was literally shot to pieces in the battle and even then it took three torpedoes to settle her. Actually she was sunk by opening her seacocks to prevent her possible capture. The remarkable ability of the battle cruiser Goeben, in Turkish waters, to survive shell, mines, and torpedo, bears the same testimony, as does the Mainz, which, in the action of the Heligoland Bight had to be sunk by one of her own officers, as in the case of the Luetzow. It is possible that Jellicoe assumed an inferiority of the British armor piercing shell because of this power of the German ships to stay afloat. But photographs published after the armistice showed that British shells penetrated the 11-inch turret armor of the Seydlitz and the 13-inch of the Derfflinger with frightful effect. The difference was in the fact that they did not succeed in sinking those ships, which, after all is the chief object of a shell, and this must be attributed to better under-water construction.

[Footnote 1: Quoted in Naval and Military Record, Dec. 24, 1919, p. 822.]

The only criticism it seems possible to suggest on Scheer's tactics is the unwariness of his pursuit, which might so easily have led to the total destruction of the German fleet. Strangely enough, although a Zeppelin hovered over the British fleet at dawn of the day after the battle, no aircraft of any kind scouted ahead of the Germans the day before. In pursuing Beatty, Scheer had to take a chance, well aware that if the Grand Fleet were within reach, Beatty's wireless would bring it upon him. But Scheer was evidently perfectly willing to risk the encounter. Such criticism as arose in Germany—from Captain Persius, for example—centered on "Tirpitz's faulty constructional methods"; which, in the light of the facts of the battle would seem to be the very last thing to hit upon.

As for types and weapons it is clear that the armored cruisers served only as good targets and death traps. The British would have been better off if every armored cruiser had been left at home. The dominating feature of the story is the influence of the torpedo on Jellicoe's tactics. It is fair to say that it was the Parthian tactics of the German destroyer, both actual and potential, that saved the High Seas Fleet and robbed the British of a greater Trafalgar. At every crisis in the battle it was either what the German destroyer did or might do that governed the British commander's maneuvers. At the time of deployment he formed on the farthest rather than on the nearest division because of what German destroyers might do. When the Grand Fleet swung away to the east and lost all contact with their enemy for the rest of the battle, it was because of a destroyer attack. At this time eleven destroyers accomplished the feat of driving 27 dreadnoughts from the field! Again, the pursuit was called off at nightfall because of the peril of destroyer attacks under cover of darkness, and finally Jellicoe decided not to risk an action the following morning because his capital ships had no screening forces against the torpedo of the enemy. It is worth noting in this connection that although the Admiralty were aware of the battle in progress, they held back the Harwich force of destroyers and light cruisers which would have proved a welcome reenforcement in pursuing the retreating fleet. The reason for this decision has never been published.

In connection with the important part played by the German destroyers at Jutland it is worth remarking that before the war it was the Admiralty doctrine that destroyers could not operate successfully by day, and they were accordingly painted black for night service. The German destroyers were painted gray. After Jutland the British flotillas also were painted the battleship gray.

Naturally the failure of the superior fleet to crush the inferior one aroused a storm of criticism, the most severe emanating from English naval writers. The sum and substance is the charge of overcaution on the part of the British Commander in Chief. It is held that Jellicoe should have formed his battle line on his starboard instead of his port wing, thus turning toward the enemy and concentrating on the head of their column at once. Forming on the port division caused the battle fleet to swerve away from the enemy and open the range just at the critical moment of contact, leaving Beatty unsupported in his dash across the head of the enemy's line. It is said that the latter even sent a signal to the Marlborough for the battleships to fall in astern of him, and the failure to do so made his maneuver fruitless. Apparently this message was not transmitted to the flagship at the time. In answer Jellicoe explains in great detail that the preliminary reports received from Goodenough and others as to the position of the High Seas Fleet were so meager and conflicting that he could not form line of battle earlier than he did, and secondly that deploying on the starboard division at the moment of sighting the enemy would have thrown the entire battle fleet into confusion, blanketed their fire, and created a dangerous opening for torpedo attack from the destroyers at the head of the German column. On this point Scheer agrees with the critics. Deploying on the starboard division instead of the port, he says, "would have greatly impeded our movements and rendered a fresh attack on the enemy's line extremely difficult."

The second point of criticism rested on the turning away of the battleships at the critical point of the torpedo attack at 7.20, under cover of which the German battleships wheeled to westward and disappeared. Jellicoe's reply is that if he had swung to starboard, turning toward the enemy, he would have headed into streams of approaching torpedoes under conditions of mist and smoke that were ideal for torpedo attack, and if he had maintained position in line ahead he would have courted heavy losses. In connection with this turn he calls attention to the fact that British light cruisers and destroyers could not be used to deliver a counter attack because, on account of the rapid changes of course and formation made by the battlefleet, they had been unable to reach their proper station in the van.

Thirdly, if conditions for night battle were too risky why did the Grand Fleet fail to keep sufficient touch with the enemy by means of its light flotillas so as to be informed of his movements and prevent his escape? There were frequent contacts during that short night, and the Germans were sighted steering southeast. The attacks made by British destroyers certainly threw the German line into confusion, and some of the light vessels were driven to the north, reaching German bases by way of the Baltic. Nevertheless the fleet succeeded in cutting through without serious loss. To this there seems to be no answer.

Lastly, to the query why Jellicoe did not seek another action in the morning, as originally intended, he replies that he discovered by directional wireless that the Germans were already safe between the mine fields and the coast, and that he could not safely proceed without his screening force of destroyers and light cruisers, which, after their night operations, were widely scattered. From German accounts, however, we find no mention of a shelter behind mine fields, but astonishment at the fact that they were permitted to go on their way unmolested. Morning found the two fleets only twenty miles apart, and the Germans had a half day's steaming before they could reach port. They were in no condition to fight. The battleship Ostfriesland had struck a mine and had to be towed. The battle cruiser Seydlitz had to be beached to keep her from sinking, and other units were limping along with their gun decks almost awash.

Certainly the tactics of Jellicoe do not suggest those of Blake, Hawke, or Nelson. They do not fit Farragut's motto—borrowed from Danton[1]—"l'audace, encore l'audace, et toujours l'audace," or Napoleon's "frappez vite, frappez fort." War, as has been observed before, cannot be waged without taking risks. The British had a heavy margin to gamble on. As it happened, 23 out of the entire 28 battleships came out of the fight without so much as a scratch on their paint; and, after deployment, only one out of the battle line of 27 dreadnoughts received a single hit. This was the Colossus, which had four men wounded by a shell.

[Footnote 1: And borrowed by Danton from Cicero.]

The touchstone of naval excellence is Nelson. As Mahan has so ably pointed out, while weapons change principles remain. Dewey, in deciding to take the chances involved in a night entry of Manila Bay did so in answer to his own question, "What would Farragut do?" Hence in considering Jutland one may take a broader view than merely a criticism of tactics. In a word, does the whole conduct of the affair reveal the method and spirit of Nelson?

At Trafalgar there was no need for a deployment after the enemy was sighted because in the words of the famous Memorandum, "the order of sailing is to be the order of battle." The tactics to be followed when the French appeared had been carefully explained by Nelson to his commanders. No signal was needed—except the fine touch of inspiration in "England expects every man to do his duty." In brief, the British fleet had been so thoroughly indoctrinated, and the plan was so simple, that there was no room for hesitation, uncertainty, or dependence on the flagship for orders at the last minute. It is hard to see evidence of any such indoctrination of the Grand Fleet before Jutland.