Chapter 36: The Death Ride Of The Battlecruisers

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Entry posted by Dreadnought · November 29, 2024

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SMS Moltke – guns blazing with a “bone in her teeth” (a pronounced bow wave) as she charges along at 27 knots – tactical #3 in the battlecruiser line during the “Death Ride”. Moltke, under utmost speed was capable of 28 knots, but by this time of the day, the German warships were suffering the effects of inferior coal. The low grade coal did not fully burn and the fire boxes were filling up with “clinkers”. The problem was especially acute on the smaller light cruisers and torpedo boats. (Willy Stower)

IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN

By: Dreadnought & AP

Chapter 36:

DEATH RIDE

OF THE

BATTLECRUISERS

The III Battle Squadron of the Hochseeflotte is under heavy fire and steering toward the British battle line during the “second encounter” of the Battle of Jutland. Left to right are the dreadnought battleships SMS Kronprinz, Markgraf, Grosser Kurfurst, and Konig leading the van. (Claus Bergen)

Far to the east, twilight was descending into darkness as the sun sank toward the western horizon. But Vizeadmiral Reinhard Scheer could not see the eastern horizon. Nor could he see the northern horizon, for that matter. All he could see from the bridge of SMS Friedrich der Grosse was a veritable forest of shell splashes from the enemy guns and rolling smoke from his own guns – and everything frequently lit a dull orange as a British shell found a target among his battleships. When he did manage to get a glimpse beyond the smoke and water columns, all he could see – from horizon to horizon -- was a churning bank of smoke, lit with the flickering muzzle flashes of more than two hundred big guns. Instead of slipping east across the wake of the Grand Fleet, Scheer had managed to stumble into the center of their battle fleet – for the second time. He knew the only solution was to disengage from the enemy – but it would have to be a quick and clean break. He needed to disrupt the British battle line long enough to escape back into the haze and smoke.

At 19:13, Scheer signaled Hartog’s battlecruisers with a flag hoist – “9R”. In any naval signal book of the day, flags denoted certain things with a variety of colors and symbols, which are explained in the signal book. In this case, #9 is the “series” and “R” is the instruction. The signals officer would scan down the pages until he hit series 9, and then look for the “R”. Beside “9R” in the Imperial Naval Signals book, it said...”ran an den Feind – voll einsetzen!”. Historically, the Imperial flag signal codes had originated in the old Prussian Navy of the 1860’s. In those days, many ranking naval officers had started military life in the Prussian Army, with the result that some instructions in the flag book were a bit archaic and sounded more like orders to a heavy cavalry regiment. Very “loosely translated”, “9R” said...”PANZERKREUZER AT THE ENEMY! GIVE IT EVERYTHING!” Scheer would hurl the battlecruisers at the enemy to draw their attention away from the battle line.

What transpired thereafter, was both the most splendid and the most foolhardy moment in, perhaps, the entire recorded history of the Dreadnought Era. The four remaining battlecruisers – Derfflinger, Seydlitz, Moltke, and Von der Tann – had sunk three British battlecruisers that day -- fought Beatty, Evan-Thomas, Hood, and then Jellicoe – and had been brutally battered by heavy shells. Von der Tann had only her 5.9-inch guns left in the fight, and all the ships and crews had been in a continuous high-speed gunnery action for nearly four hours.

When the signal was read out on Derfflinger’s bridge, Kapitan Hartog did not hesitate, he merely ordered...”Steady on course – ring for utmost speed”. Within seconds thick black smoke gushed from the funnels as the engineers sprayed oil on the boiler fires, and the big battlecruiser began to gather speed. With Vizeadmiral Hipper still aboard the torpedo boat G-39, it fell to Hartog and Derfflinger to lead the already badly damaged Imperial battlecruisers directly into "the greatest concentration of naval gunfire any fleet commander had ever faced" – at an insanely short range.

In Seydlitz, Kapitan von Egidy read Scheer’s signal and told the handset operators to pass the word to the crew. As the various stations acknowledged the message, there was a pause, then the sound of cheering came through the voice pipes, ventilation shafts, and the passageways. Soon the stirring strains of “Wacht am Rhein” could be heard. Down in the boiler rooms, the sweaty, grimy, exhausted stokers rang their shovels on the deck plates and shouted...”Drauf Seydlitz – Drauf Seydlitz!” (Attack Seydlitz! -- the battle cry of Frederick the Great’s cuirassier cavalry.) As the Panzerkreuzer gathered speed and steered for the British line, their crews hadn’t a thought their actions over the next few minutes would forever be enshrined in legend and glory.

It was, in fact, the single “greatest concentration of naval gunfire” ever seen in all of history. The low and sleek cruisers, pale gray against the blue-gray sea erupting and boiling around them, steered east at speed – their Imperial battle ensigns whipping straight and stiff at the masthead. Kapitan Hartog did not have time to savor the grand and gallant action of his ships – nor, perhaps, would his warrior’s mind have grasped the symbolism. He was fully absorbed in hurling at the British, the best science, technology, and metallurgy the German analytical mind could devise. And opposing him was the steel-sided, fire-breathing embodiment of victory – a British battle fleet with a naval tradition stretching back to Sir Francis Drake and the Spanish Armada. Actually, the symbolism might not have been lost on Hartog – he was known to be well-read in European military history. But he knew the “grand gesture” he and his ships were making was far more important that any symbolism that might be attributed to it in later years. And so began what came to be known as...“The Death Ride Of The Battlecruisers”.

This rather “romanticized” phrase only came into use after The Great War, when Korvettenkapitan von Hase, Derfflinger’s gunnery officer, wrote his book. But it does capture the courage and determination of the officers and men who manned the Imperial battlecruisers. All the Panzerkreuzer, with the exception of SMS Moltke, were seriously damaged. Nevertheless, they increased speed and surged toward the enemy battle line, their gunners firing at any target they could see. Even Von der Tann, with only her 5.9-inch guns left, steamed toward the flaming maw of the Grand Fleet’s guns.

As the gun action heated up, III Torpedo Boat Flotilla, retiring from their battle around Wiesbaden, cut through Scheer’s battle line and regrouped on the light cruiser SMS Rostock (on the starboard flank). With their torpedoes expended, they would take up screening duty. At 19:15, Scheer sent a wireless message to his remaining flotillas to charge the British line and launch torpedoes. The light cruiser SMS Regensburg rallied the II, VI, VII, and IX Flotillas and steered to the NE. The little torpedo craft began laying a thick smokescreen as they advanced, fanning out so the smoke would cover Scheer’s maneuver. The attack was utterly reckless, but absolutely essential. Scheer’s battle fleet was within 10,000 yards of the enemy and still closing. If he was going to make good his escape, he would have to thoroughly disrupt the enemy battle line.

SMS Derfflinger, battered and down by the bow, leads the Imperial battlecruisers on “The Death Ride” against the British Grand Fleet. Thick black smoke gushes from her funnels as the engines strain at full speed. Though heavily damaged, she will do her duty and help save Scheer’s battle fleet.

THE Imperial battlecruisers approached the British line at high speed and Derfflinger, as lead ship, came under a particularly galling fire. There is no way to tell with any certainty how many enemy ships concentrated their fire on the “Iron Dog”, but it was certainly no fewer than 12 battleships -- the British 3^rd, 4^th, 5^th, and 6^th Battleship Divisions were the nearest to her with a clear line of sight. And the 15-inch-gunned HMS Royal Oak and Revenge were well placed to bring their massive guns into action. Derfflinger and Seydlitz (just astern) frequently disappeared from view as a dozen shell splashes leapt high into the air and rained down tons of water onto their decks. Near misses plunged into the water alongside and exploded, shaking the battlecruisers as if they had been struck by a giant hammer. And then, there were the shells that struck home.

When Richard Wagner composed “Der Ring des Nibelungen”, he could not have foreseen the death and destruction of Jutland – but surely this last act of the Imperial battlecruisers was their own “Gotterdammerung” (Twilight Of The Gods).

As “point ship” of the German battle line, SMS Derfflinger was the “target of choice”, and her luck ran out around 19:15, when a 15-inch shell fired by HMS Revenge penetrated the roof of “D” turret. The huge shell detonated on the right hand powder hoist, set fire to the charges in the hoist, and completely burned-out the turret. There was no danger of an explosion, but 75 men were killed and “D” magazine was flooded as a precaution. Between 19:16 and 19:17 (yes – just two minutes) four more hits were scored by Revenge. One 15-inch shell penetrated the barbette of “C” turret just below the gun house and exploded -- just below and between the gun breeches. Again, the powder charges in the hoists ignited, killed 68 men, and burned-out the turret. Derfflinger had lost both stern turrets in the space of two minutes. Two of the big shells plunged into the quarter deck and exploded below, blasting a pair of 15-foot holes in the deck, while causing extensive damage to the compartments below, and starting a raging fire. The final shell from Revenge went through Derfflinger’s forward funnel about three feet above the bridge. A short time later, two 15-inch shells from HMS Royal Oak passed through the aft funnel, while a 12-inch round from HMS Bellerophon plowed into the forward armored conning tower. Korvettenkapitan von Hase was directing his guns from inside the upper level…

“Suddenly, it was as if we had heard the crack of Doom. A terrific roar, a tremendous explosion, and then darkness. The whole conning tower seemed to rise into the air, only to fall back into position. We tumbled about like stones in a bucket, then poisonous yellow-green gases filled the tower and we managed to get the heavy door open with great difficulty to breath fresh air. To our great relief, the heavy shell had failed to penetrate the thick steel.”

Hammered by large caliber shells, with her aft turrets enveloped in a raging inferno, Derfflinger shouldered her way through the towering water columns and held course for the British battle fleet.

SMS Seydlitz, battered and with smoldering fires, follows Derfflinger on “the Death Ride” against the British Grand Fleet. (Claus Bergen)

Next astern of Derfflinger was SMS Seydlitz and, she too, came in for her share of attention. At 19:17 a 15-inch shell disabled the right hand gun barrel of “E” turret. And around 19:20, a 12-inch shell fired by HMS St. Vincent impacted the gun house of the burnt-out “C” turret, igniting a furious powder fire from charges still in the loading trays. Both Seydlitz and Derfflinger would burn for hours. Moltke, with her luck holding, managed to avoid any damage during the “Death Ride”. Little Von der Tann, expertly handled by Kapitan Zenker, continued to dodge salvos and took only one hit during the “second encounter” with the Grand Fleet. A 15-inch shell from HMS Revenge struck the rear of the aft conning tower, and though it failed to penetrate, it exploded on contact and splinters entered through the vision slits, killing four men. Unfortunately, the massive spray of splinters also penetrated the fantail deck and knocked-out a dynamo, plunging the below-decks compartments into darkness.

SMS Seydlitz on fire in several places and burning fiercely from the second hit on the burnt-out “C” turret. Seydlitz would be the most heavily damaged capital ship in the Hochseeflotte to survive the Battle Of Jutland. This picture was taken the day after the battle, and in the end, it was a miracle she managed to make Wilhelmshaven.

Hartog’s Panzerkreuzer continued their reckless charge, closing the range to under 7,700 yards – so close, no armor in existence could prevent shell penetration. Though battered, the Imperial battlecruisers held their course, maintained their speed, and kept up a steady fire against the enemy line. But no amount of courage and determination was going to overcome the odds they faced. Around 19:16, there was unexpected relief from the madness. Derfflinger’s lookouts spotted a flag signal on Friedrich der Grosse’s halyards ordering a course change...”Operate against the enemy’s van”. Kapitan Hartog went out on the bridge wing, verified the signal, and only then did he order a four point turn to starboard. Hartog swung his battlecruisers onto a southerly course, parallel to the British battle line and continued to engage – but he now had leeway to maneuver. As he fought a running gun duel to the south, Hartog gradually opened the range to something less suicidal.

To his credit Scheer, during his later audience with the Kaiser, regaled His Majesty with the heroism of the Panzerkreuzer…,,,

“When the signal was given to attack the British line with the utmost ferocity, the battlecruisers threw themselves at the enemy without regard to their own safety. The sight of our battlecruisers steaming at full speed against the enemy, while their shells fell all about, was an inspiration to the entire fleet. Although a number of their guns were unable to fire, and some of the ships were severely damaged, they did not hesitate to advance recklessly towards the enemy. Their conduct is especially deserving of the highest possible praise...”

The Kaiser was nearly overcome with the very thought of the scene.

Seydlitz in the heat of battle as “the Death Ride” nears its climax. Notice how the ship is closed-in on all sides by rolling gun smoke and towering water columns from near misses. As many as a dozen British battleships have taken her under fire and at slightly more than 7,000 yards, her upper works have been shredded by 6-inch shells and splinter damage. Her blackened “C” turret was hit and burnt-out early in the battle and the gun tubes are still elevated over the starboard side. Numerous shell casings ejected from the rear of “D” turret lie among the battle debris strewn about the decks. (Claus Bergen)

About the same time Hartog made his turn to the south (around 19:20), the massed flotillas of the Hochseeflotte threw themselves at the British battle line. Five flotillas struggled through the fusillade of shells hurled at them -- thick smoke churning from their funnels trailed astern -- laying the smoke screen Scheer so desperately needed to conceal his dreadnoughts. The little torpedo boats spread out into attack mode and formed up in “waves”. They were having difficulty working into an attack position and were, for the most part, operating at reduced speeds. The small boats only had a few boilers in their slim hulls, and the inferior German coal was “playing-up” in the fireboxes. The low grade coal burned slowly and not even fully. This resulted in a build-up of “clinkers” in the fireboxes – seriously hampering efforts to maintain steam pressure. The little craft had been in constant motion for several hours, and mostly at high speed – they simply did not have the time nor opportunity to “trim their fires” and keep them hot. At the same time, the ever-present British destroyers emerged from between the columns of dreadnoughts and sought to blunt the German attack. Torpedo boats from several flotillas had no remaining torpedoes, and they peeled off to engage the enemy. The torpedo boats moving to the attack simply fended off the English destroyers with gunfire as they rushed past, leaving them to be dealt with by their flotilla mates.

A British destroyer flotilla coming out from behind the British battle line to repel the mass attack of the German torpedo boats.

German torpedo boats closing with the British battle line to deliver a diversionary torpedo attack while Scheer extricates his fleet from a critical situation. The little torpedo boats closed, in some cases, to less than 6,500 yards to launch their torpedoes – an insanely close range for a daylight torpedo attack.

The VI and IX Flotillas worked their way in to about 8,000 yards, then started their attack run. The British dreadnoughts shifted fire onto the attacking torpedo boats and opened with both main and secondary batteries. The battleships kept up a rapid fire, the big guns aimed in the enemy’s general direction. Even if they did not obtain a direct hit, a near miss with a heavy caliber shell might be enough to disable the flimsy torpedo boats. The German “first wave” pressed in to 6,500 yards, twisting and turning to avoid the heavy fire. Shell splashes towered high into the air before crashing down on the torpedo boat’s exposed decks. Shell splinters from near misses whirred through the air like angry hornets, punching holes in funnels, the thin hull plates, and the torpedo crews working their weapons mounts. When human endurance could bear no more, the small boats swerved to port, loosed their torpedoes, and zig-zagged back into their own smoke. The “second wave” was supposed to be made up of the II and VII Flotillas, but the II Flotilla lost their way in the thick smoke, and by the time their eleven boats located the enemy, they were no longer in a position to delivered their 63 torpedoes against the British battle line. (The other German flotillas had already retired from the fight, and the British battle line was well out of range and steaming out of danger. A major “lost” opportunity for the Germans.)

Meanwhile, the VII Flotilla had gamely followed their predecessors to a little less than 7,000 yards before unleashing their torpedoes. The third wave of boats went in right behind them, joined by three stragglers from III Flotilla that still had torpedoes. They had to struggle to get into an attack position, because the Grand Fleet had already begun to turn away from the danger. The boats in the third wave finally fired their torpedoes in the general direction of the retreating dreadnoughts on the theory that with so many targets they had to hit something. (This was a then-current tactical theory held by both the British and US navies – referred to as a “browning shot”. With an enemy arrayed in a line-ahead formation, you massed the torpedo craft, fired the torpedoes, and about 30% of them would likely strike a target. As with most theories, it worked better on paper than in practice.)

German torpedo boats have launched their torpedoes at the British battle line and are taking evasive action as they begin a zig-zag withdrawal under murderous fire.

Lookouts aboard HMS Iron Duke spotted the mass of enemy torpedo boats rushing toward the fleet and alerted Jellicoe. He immediately ordered the signal officer to hoist the pennant for an “emergency turn-away”. The Grand Fleet first turned away two points to port, then two minutes later, Jellicoe ordered them back to starboard, mistakenly believing he had avoided the torpedoes. Swinging back into the path of oncoming torpedoes, Jellicoe was forced to order a three point turn to port, putting them on a SE course. The Germans launched a number of torpedoes despite the British destroyer attacks and the chaos of heavy gunfire from the battle line. The quoted number varies from 21 to 41 torpedoes – so it is impossible to say how many were actually fired. And though the turn-away was executed promptly, it was not nearly enough helm to get out of danger -- and the torpedoes only had a short distance to cover. HMS Marlborough, Colossus, Hercules, and Agincourt (5^th and 6^th Battleship Divisions), all had to put their helms hard over to avoid numerous torpedoes. HMS Marlborough seemed to attract the German torpedoes, with one each passing ahead and astern, and a third traveling beneath the battleship without exploding. Another torpedo passed between Iron Duke and Thunderer – one each passed ahead and astern of both HMS Collingwood and HMS Temeraire. And HMS Revenge had to put her helm over twice in succession as two pairs of torpedoes sped past.

But the nearness of these “known” torpedoes does not imply a failure on the part of the Germans or their torpedoes. The goal of the torpedo boats was to disrupt the British battle line – and they had certainly done that. But if Jellicoe had chosen not to turn away from the torpedoes, there is every possibility he could have had eight dreadnoughts torpedoed and withdrawn from the battle line – including his own flagship. Out of those eight, five could easily have gone to the bottom. HMS Marlborough, having already taken one torpedo, would most certainly have succumbed to a second hit. In the end, there were no torpedo hits on the dreadnoughts of the Grand Fleet – and it was entirely due to Jellicoe’s prompt signal to turn away from the danger. The Germans had two torpedo boats badly damaged, while HMS Iron Duke sent a third boat to the bottom with two 13.5-inch shells. Within hours of returning to Scapa Flow, Vice-Admiral Jellicoe was being criticized for turning away from the enemy torpedoes instead of turning toward them. Why? Because, unknowingly, it was at this moment of chaos that he lost contact with the Hochseeflotte. He was steaming away from the enemy while his enemy was steaming away from him.

With the Imperial battlecruisers and the massed torpedo boat flotillas fully engaged, and the smoke screen across the bows of his battle line -- Vizeadmiral Scheer seized the moment of maximum confusion. At 19:18 he signaled his third “battle turn-away” of the day. This time the maneuver was not executed with the same precision as the others. During the second encounter with the English battle fleet, the German ships had strayed from their careful formation – some to open the firing arcs of their guns – others to dodge salvos. Some of the German dreadnoughts had been damaged and were having difficulty maintaining their station in the battle line. Some were “bunched-up”, and still others had slowed down to avoid collision. But the “cluster” gradually sorted itself out, and by 19:30 the Hochseeflotte was making best speed to the west – completely unobserved by the British.

When Kapitan Hartog received Scheer’s signal to turn away, he immediately swung the battlecruisers SW and began making smoke. Once the smoke covered his wake, the enemy firing stopped, and the badly battered 1^st Scouting Group altered course to WSW, and later to west. By 19:26 Derfflinger’s lookouts sighted the lead elements of the Hochseeflotte. As they drew nearer, Scheer signaled a course change to SW, and ordered the battlecruisers to take station off I Battle Squadron’s port beam.

During the approximately ten minutes of the “second encounter”, the German battleships suffered some 108 dead, while SMS Konig had been hit 10 times, Grosser Kurfurst-8, Markgraf-5, and Kaiser-2. SMS Helgoland had been hit once, Oldenburg-1, Rheinland-1, Nassau-2, and Westfalen-1 (all medium caliber shells). Kronprinz, Prinzregent Luitpold, Kaiserin, Friedrich der Grosse, Ostfriesland, Thuringen, and Posen received no damage during the second encounter. Understandably, the first three ships leading the battle line had suffered the most damage, but for all the “steel” that had been thrown at them, there were surprisingly few hits – and none of them critical. Of course, during the entire day of battle, the dreadnought battleships of the Hochseeflotte had only been directly engaged for just under an hour. The Imperial battlecruisers, on the other hand, had been closely engaged for all of five hours – and they were in bad shape.

SMS Lutzow was struck by 25 large caliber shells and suffered 128 dead. Too badly damaged to continue, she had already been detached to make for Wilhelmshaven (but would eventually founder). SMS Derfflinger lost 158 dead, was struck by 18 large caliber shells (10 of which, were 15-inch), and still had one operational main battery turret. She had taken on some water, but was capable of maintaining her place in the line. SMS Seydlitz was hit by 21 large caliber shells (source BundesArchive) and one torpedo, lost 98 dead, and though heavily damaged and down by the bow, she could make 18 knots. SMS Moltke, miraculously, had received only 4 hits during the course of the day (by 15-inch shells) and took on about 1,000 tons of water, but with no significant damage and only 16 dead. While striking HMS Tiger 13 times, Moltke emerged from the maelstrom virtually intact. SMS Von der Tann was hit by 4 large caliber shells during the day (two of them 15-inch) and only lost 11 dead. Both “A” and “C” turrets were jammed by shell fire, while the guns of both “B” and “D” turrets overheated and jammed in their slides. One 15-inch shell struck her aft below the waterline and caused serious flooding. Through the Herculean efforts of the damage control and repair parties, Von der Tann maintained her place in the line. Turret crews and mechanics worked tirelessly to repair and replenish the recoil systems on the midships gun turrets, while artificers had even used explosive charges to clear the twisted metal jamming the stern turret. Soon after nightfall, three of Von der Tann’s turrets were restored to operation.

It is late in the day, and 2^nd Battleship Division of the Grand Fleet is steaming SW in parallel pursuit of the Hochseeflotte. Note the very hazy visibility at the end of the column.

As the Hochseeflotte steered SW at 17 knots, Jellicoe turned the Grand Fleet SSW and maintained speed at 18 knots. He was determined to hold onto his tactical advantage by keeping between Scheer and his escape routes to the east. But though they were no longer at each other’s throats, the shipboard routine was anything but “business as usual”. As dusk deepened into night, a pause in the action from roughly 20:20 to 21:00 allowed the German crews to tend to immediate needs. With darkness approaching, men were hurriedly detailed to prepare the big searchlights for nighttime action – making good splinter damage where possible, and restoring severed power leads. Turret crews and mechanics worked in the dim light, tending to the big guns they served -- cutting away wreckage, replacing broken instruments, and restoring power leads and voice tubes. There were, of course, casualties that had to be dealt with – and the gun crews had been confined to their turrets under a great deal of stress – they needed fresh air and rest. The shot-away signal halyards and wireless aerials needed to be replaced and there were still fires to put out. And there were hundreds of splinter holes to be plugged, shell holes to be patched, and weakened bulkheads to be shored-up. Most important of all, the drain inlets to the pumps had to be regularly cleared of blast debris so the seawater in the flooded compartments could be held in check. The engine room crews had been hard at it since early afternoon – the engines running at full revolutions – gauges to be watched, valves to be adjusted -- and the sudden flurry of activity when orders came from the bridge. On the other side of the watertight bulkhead, the back-breaking effort to maintain a full head of steam had taken its toll. Stokers on a coal-fired ship -- steaming at high speed -- had the never-ending job of feeding the boilers. With the forced-draft fans whirring at full speed, the fireboxes devoured coal just about as fast as a man could shovel it. At the height of the battle, the teams of stokers had to be changed out regularly, and replacements were kept handy if someone fell out in the stoke hold. Stripped to the waist and sweating like pigs, they were covered head to toe with the coal dust that hung in the air. Nearing the limits of human endurance, they too, would have to be relieved, fed, provided with a “pint”, and allowed topside for fresh air.

In the descending darkness, while all this feverish work was going on, Scheer altered course to the south around 19:50 and began “getting his house in order”. The Hochseeflotte had taken something of a pounding, and was a bit strung-out as a result. The Flottenchef did his best to gather his squadrons and tighten-up the formation before darkness made it impossible. Kommodore von Reuter’s light cruisers of the 4^th Scouting Group (Stettin, Munchen, Frauenlob, Stuttgart, Hamburg) were scouting about two miles in advance of the battle fleet. The pre-dreadnoughts of Konteradmiral Mauve’s II Battle Squadron (Hannover, Pommern, Schlesien, Schleswig-Holstein, Hessen, Deutschland) were at the head of the main body. About a half mile off their port quarter, Kapitan Hartog’s four remaining battlecruisers were guarding the eastern flank of the two leading battle squadrons (II and I). Vizeadmiral Schmidt followed on a parallel course about two miles to the north with the I Battle Squadron (Westfalen, Nassau, Rheinland, Posen, Oldenburg, Helgoland, Thuringen, Ostfriesland). Scheer’s flagship, Friedrich der Grosse was attached to the tail of I Battle Squadron. About a half mile astern was, Konteradmiral Behncke and the III Battle Squadron (Prinzregent Luitpold, Kaiserin, Kronprinz, Markgraf, Grosser Kurfurst, Konig). With her battle damage, SMS Markgraf was having trouble keeping up, but Behncke was making best possible speed to try and close the gap before darkness set in. It was vitally important that he maintain contact with the battle line at this point. When the sun dipped below the western horizon, the night would be pitch-black. Everyone’s nerves were on edge, and it would be only too easy to open fire on friendly ships.

During the last hour and a half of daylight, while Scheer’s ships were repairing battle damage and making preparations for a possible night engagement – they did so unmolested. Though he had twice beaten Scheer in battle, Jellicoe showed no sense of urgency about tracking him down to finish the job. His battle fleet was positioned to cut Scheer off from his base, and he was reluctant to jeopardize his blocking position by going off on a potentially fruitless search. It was, in fact, the job of Beatty’s battlecruisers to hunt down the Hochseeflotte – but he had tamely assumed the traditional scouting task about six miles ahead of the battle fleet. Beatty occasionally -- through the smoke, mist, and gathering twilight – saw German capital ships steaming SW until 19:45, but his later biographer wrote…

”He wished to close the enemy van, but in poor visibility, felt it would be unwise to press the enemy too closely without battleship support.”

With diplomatic language of that sort, his biographer could have filled a posting to the Foreign Office.

The whole “raison d’etre” of the battlecruiser was to hunt down the enemy, report on him, and if necessary, engage him until the fleet could come up in support. The sound tactical reasons why Jellicoe did not go swanning about searching for the enemy in no way applied to Beatty – and Kapitan Hartog had just given a magnificent demonstration of how to take battlecruisers into close action with a battle fleet. Beatty’s sudden prudence contrasts sharply with the rash eagerness he had shown when first closing with Hipper – without the support of Evan-Thomas’ battleships. But then – Beatty had since put in four hard hours and lost three battlecruisers trying to sink just one of Hipper’s ships. Around 19:47, his newly acquired caution resulted in the now famous (or infamous) signal...”Submit van of battleships follow battlecruisers. We can then cut off whole of enemy’s battle fleet.” Notably, Beatty declined to act on his own initiative and waited the 23 minutes it took to send the signal to HMS Iron Duke and receive the answer – by which time the Imperial battle fleet had disappeared into the approaching gloom and all opportunity was lost. For some reason, neither Beatty nor Jellicoe ordered their light cruisers to search for Scheer until around 20:00.

With his dispositions made, Scheer steamed south – completely unaware Jellicoe had already altered his course to the SW. Jellicoe’s intention was to force Scheer farther away from the swept minefield channels south of Horns Reef. With barely half an hour of dim light remaining, the two mighty fleets were on a converging course, yet again. And the first indication of this potentially explosive situation came just minutes before “last light”.

About a half mile ahead of Jellicoe’s battleships, the British 4^th Light Cruiser Squadron (Calliope, Constance, Caroline, Royalist, Comus) and 11^th Destroyer Flotilla stumbled upon the German V Torpedo Boat Flotilla and unwittingly chased them west, across the wake of Hartog’s battlecruisers. In a few more minutes, the British scouting group ran up against Scheer’s battle line. About the time Commodore Le Mesurier realized what he had run into, his light cruisers were taken under fire by SMS Prinzregent Luitpold, Markgraf, and Kaiser. The German dreadnoughts obviously thought it was an enemy torpedo attack and they opened a rapid and accurate fire with both their main and secondary batteries. Startled by the tightly grouped enemy salvos, the British quickly turned away, but not before HMS Calliope launched a torpedo at the battleships. The torpedo missed, but Calliope was hit by five 5.9-inch shells and suffered 33 casualties before she could get clear.

Some four miles ahead, just after 20:00, the advance screen of both fleets stumbled into each other and fought a rather spirited engagement. Kommodore von Reuter’s 4^th Scouting Group (Stettin, Munchen, Frauenlob, Stuttgart, Hamburg) was steering south ahead of the German battle fleet, when Rear-Admiral Napier’s 3^rd Light Cruiser Squadron (Falmouth, Yarmouth, Birkenhead, Gloucester) steamed out of the murky dusk. Von Reuter turned to attack, and both sides opened simultaneously, exchanging rapid fire for three or four minutes. Barely able to see their enemy, von Reuter’s squadron sustained several hits – two on Munchen – one of which destroyed the casings on the aft four boilers, making it difficult to maintain steam pressure. Von Reuter turned away sharply to the west – coming back to a southerly course after a mile or two. Napier, not wishing to press his luck in the near-darkness, turned his cruisers due south. Oddly enough, Konteradmiral Boedicker’s 2^nd Scouting Group (light cruisers Frankfurt, Pillau, Elbing) was trailing von Reuter about a quarter mile astern when the skirmish erupted. Instead of moving to support von Reuter, Boedicker turned away sharply to the west – later claiming he did not wish to mask the fire of II Battle Squadron approaching a mile astern. (A somewhat flimsy excuse for not supporting von Reuter, but Boedicker was not relieved of his command.)

The muzzle flashes and sounds of gunfire attracted the attention of everyone on HMS Lion’s bridge. Beatty swung his battlecruisers west to investigate and within a few minutes (20:18), Hartog’s battlecruisers were sighted on the starboard beam at roughly 8,500 yards. (Visual range was falling as the evening grew darker.) Vizeadmiral Hipper, in the torpedo boat G-39, was just pulling alongside SMS Moltke, preparing to transfer to the battlecruiser, when Beatty opened fire. Oberleutnant von Loefen shouted for full speed, and as G-39 shot forward, he sheered away from the battlecruiser and disappeared into the gathering darkness. Beatty’s first few shells landed among Boedicker’s scouting group, but fire was quickly concentrated on the German battlecruisers. The Panzerkreuzer instantly replied with what cannon they still had available. SMS Derfflinger had been taken under fire by HMS Lion and Princess Royal. HMS Tiger was shooting at SMS Pillau as Boedicker withdrew to the west, and SMS Seydlitz was under fire from HMS New Zealand and Indomitable. The falling darkness seriously interfered with the German gunnery, making it difficult to range on a target, but they opened fire just seconds behind the British and fought back all the same. Both Lion and Princess Royal were struck once apiece, but the German ships suffered far worse. Derfflinger was hit twice by 13.5-inch shells at short range, one of which jammed “A” turret, leaving the big cruiser with no serviceable main battery guns. But the already heavily damaged Seydlitz was struck five more times in the space of just a few minutes.

At 21:27, with most of his battlecruisers unable to return fire, Hartog swung sharply to starboard and the column steered west and away from Beatty. As British salvos continued to fall about the battlecruisers, Hartog cut through the gap between II Battle Squadron (to the south) and I Battle Squadron (to the north). Vizeadmiral Schmidt (I Battle Squadron) held his course and speed as Hartog crossed his bow headed west. SMS Westfalen and Nassau, leading Schmidt’s column, were showered with splinters from near misses, and Westfalen was even forced to reduce speed and haul out to starboard to avoid colliding with Von der Tann as she passed ahead. The first of Schmidt’s ships to open fire was SMS Posen, followed by Westfalen, Nassau, and Rheinland. But after a few salvos, they lost their targets in the billowing smoke and darkness, and ceased firing.

Konteradmiral Mauve’s old pre-dreadnoughts of II Battle Squadron open fire on Beatty’s battlecruisers while covering the withdrawal of the heavily damaged Imperial battlecruisers. SMS Hannover leads the squadron and is shown here straddled by 13.5-inch shell splashes. Too small and obsolete to stand in the line of battle, they earned their battle honors in the early hours of darkness when their sudden appearance dissuaded Beatty from chasing Hartog’s crippled Panzerkreuzer. (Superb painting by Claus Bergen.)

At almost the same moment, Konteradmiral Mauve (II Battle Squadron) became aware of the commotion astern of his squadron and swung the old pre-dreadnoughts SW to open their firing arcs. In the gathering gloom and mist, Schleswig-Holstein and Pommern could see nothing, though the later eventually opened fire on a target. But Deutschland, Hannover, Schlesien, and Hessen spotted HMS Lion and Princess Royal. Visibility was poor and deteriorating quickly, but they opened fire on the “fuzzy” targets, nonetheless. Once again, Lion, Princess Royal, and now Indomitable, were struck by 11-inch shells. Beatty’s battlecruisers switched fire to the new targets and opened on the elderly “five minute ships”. Gamely returning fire, Mauve’s pre-dreadnoughts “diced with the Devil” as British shells began to fall around them. SMS Hannover, leading II Battle Squadron, was straddled aft on the third salvo. The next salvo straddled the bow. The concussion of the 13.5-inch shells shook Hannover as splinters tore into her hull above and below the waterline, causing minor flooding. The range could not have been more than 8,000 yards and the British were getting the better of the bargain. Pommern was repeatedly straddled and began dodging salvos while remaining in the line. On the sixth salvo, the old battleship was struck with a 12-inch shell fired by HMS Indomitable. The shell hit the citadel armor a glancing blow, and slammed into the belt armor below, detonating on impact. The armor plate was fractured and forced back some seven inches, causing heavy structural damage and minor flooding.

The pre-dreadnought battleship SMS Pommern, II Battle Squadron, Hochseeflotte: Commissioned 1907 – 13,200 tons – 18 knots – 4x11-inch guns – 14x6.7-inch guns – 20x3.5-inch guns – 6x17.7-inch torpedo tubes – belt armor 9 inches.

Technically obsolete the day she was launched, Pommern “earned her keep” at Jutland when she helped cover the withdrawal of the Imperial battlecruisers. Here you see her opening fire on HMS Lion around 20:20.

Over the course of just a few minutes, it was all darkness, smoke, and muzzle flashes as shells fell all about. HMS New Zealand hit Schleswig-Holstein with a 12-inch shell on the casemate armor. The shell did not actually penetrate the plate, but detonated and blew a large piece inboard, wrecking a 5.9-inch gun and injuring several men. SMS Schlesien was hit as well, though the damage was mostly splinters from a near miss. Having engaged the British in battle, and covered the withdrawal of Hartog’s wounded battlecruisers, Admiral Mauve decided not to tempt the “Gods of Battle” – and ordered an eight-point turn to starboard – disappearing into the dark of night around 20:35. Beatty, for his part, thought he had finally “bagged” the German battle cruisers, and was somewhat rudely surprised when -- out of the darkness -- battleships had fired on him from both his starboard beam and his starboard quarter. He was also keenly aware he was alone and unsupported. Beatty chose not to press his luck and steamed on to the SW – oblivious of the fact he had just steamed across the path of the approaching Hochseeflotte. By 21:00, Beatty had altered course to SSE – still unaware that only ten miles astern, the Hochseeflotte followed in his wake. And Konteradmiral Mauve could not have known his old pre-dreadnoughts had just fought the last capital ship action of The Great War.

Off to the west, hidden by the shroud of darkness, Vizeadmiral Hipper finally managed to board SMS Moltke and once again hoist his flag. Kapitan von Karpf greeted Hipper when he came over the side, expressing his pleasure at having the Admiral aboard. Hipper merely raised an eyebrow and chuckled…”I assure you Kapitan, you are not half as pleased to have me aboard as I am to finally be aboard. I have spent a wild night in a torpedo boat that I shall not soon forget!” The “old buccaneer” had endured an unnerving night, but managed to keep his sense of humor.

Once again, for a bit of clarity, I have included a map track of the battle that might help tie some of the events together.

FLEET ACTION

(1) 18:00 Scouting forces rejoin their respective fleets.
(2) 18:15 British fleet deploys into battle line
(3) 18:30 German fleet under fire turns away
(4) 19:00 German fleet turns back
(5) 19:15 German fleet turns away for second time
(6) 20:00
(7) 21:00 Nightfall: Jellicoe assumes night cruising formation

NEXT TIME……

THINGS THAT GO

“BOOM”

IN THE NIGHT

My apologies for not including any in-game images with this chapter. We have not yet figured out how to show a model firing it’s guns – and virtually none of the warships have night-lighting on them – so it was impossible to work them into the text of the story line. Consequently, I felt compelled to include a selection of random pictures from the Cuxhaven map tile. I have numbered the pictures – so if you have any questions – just drop me a note and I will be happy to explain. I hope you enjoy them……

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