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SMS Konig – lead ship of a class of four – Grosser Kurfurst, Markgraf, Kronprinz – they were the most modern Imperial dreadnought battleships at the Battle of Jutland, 31 May 1916. Konig led the powerful III Battle Squadron in the van of the Hochseeflotte and suffered the most damage of all the German battleships. IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN By: Dreadnought & AP Chapter 40: IF THE TRUTH BE TOLD... With the damaged ships repaired, all traces of the traumatic battle were, for the most part, erased. But it took months of time and countless man-hours worked around the clock to make that happen. When the last rivet was hammered home and the last coat of paint applied, The Great War at sea returned to pretty much what it had been before the Battle of Jutland. But what remained was a question that has been contested by naval officers and debated by historians for over a century: Who won the Battle of Jutland? And the controversy surrounding this over-simplified question began almost as soon as the first returning ship’s anchor touched the seabed. At noon on 2 June, German authorities issued a press release claiming victory -- including sinking a British battleship, two battlecruisers, two armored cruisers, a light cruiser, a submarine, and several destroyers. (The claims are, of course, inaccurate – but probably honest. In confused battles it is possible to make such mistakes.) The statement also admitted to the loss of SMS Pommern and Wiesbaden (a pre-dreadnought battleship and a light cruiser). The scuttling of Lutzow, Elbing and Rostock was unknown to the British and withheld as a matter of military intelligence. The “Victory of the Skagerrak” was lauded in the press, school children were given a holiday, and the whole nation celebrated. The Kaiser addressed the fleet on 5 June, proudly showering “his” navy with Iron Crosses and announcing a new chapter in world history...”the magic of Trafalgar has been broken”. (The Imperial government originally claimed a victory on the basis of being the smaller battle fleet, while sinking more ships than the British. Post-war official Germany chose to hail the battle as a victory, and continued to celebrate it until the late 1960’s. The “Skaggerak Victory” was mainly used as a means to suppress the disgraceful memory of the German naval mutiny of 1918-1919, as well as a means to salvage wounded pride after defeat in World War I). His Majesty Kaiser Wilhelm II addresses the assembled officers of the Hochseeflotte from the deck of SMS Grosser Kurfurst (just aft of “B” turret). It should be noted he is wearing the uniform of a Grosseadmiral – complete with red sea boots and the “baton” of a GrosseAdmiral. He was overjoyed to think he had beaten the mighty Royal Navy. (A detail from a Claus Bergen painting.) In Britain, the first news came from boasting German wireless broadcasts..."The result of the fighting is a significant success for our forces against a much stronger adversary". Then, warships began to arrive in British ports, many damaged – some heavily and visibly -- and their crews had stories to tell. Slowly, the British public began to realize the Royal Navy had not delivered a “second Trafalgar”, and quickly became suspicious and angry as the Admiralty remained ominously silent. The government considered suppressing the news, but realized this was no longer possible. Late evening on 2 June, the Admiralty released a rather laconic statement containing nothing more than the losses on each side. The following day, based on that communique, British newspapers reported a German victory -- and the British population was thunder-struck. On 3 June, the Admiralty issued a statement expanding on German losses – with another the following day making grossly exaggerated claims. But they were far too late and no one believed the exaggerated claims anyway. At this point, it must be remembered both Britain and Germany had lavished billions in taxpayer funds on their battle fleets, and a victory (even a conditional one) was needed to justify those expenditures. But -- in an even more tragic development, the wrath of the British public would be shifted onto the Army when July brought horrific losses at the Battle of the Somme. However – there is some justification for both sides at Jutland to claim a victory, of one sort or another. For the Kaiserliche Marine there were several points in their favor: (1) The loss tables (previous chapter) clearly demonstrated the Germans sank more ships than did the British. The 99 ships of the Hochseeflotte sank 117,000 tons of British warships, while the 151 ships of the Grand Fleet sank only 63,000 tons of German warships. (2) It can be argued the Germans sank three modern battlecruisers for the loss of only one of their own. (The loss of Pommern was of no great consequence. It was certainly sad and tragic – but the pre-dreadnought battleship was obsolete, of little combat value, and had no business being at Jutland.) (3) All damaged German ships were repaired and returned to service with the fleet. (4) The British had been prevented from achieving a decisive victory comparable to Trafalgar. (5) The Germans had preserved their battle fleet and Alfred Thayer Mahan’s strategic doctrine of “a fleet in being”. (6) An intact Hochseeflotte in the Jade discouraged the British from making amphibious landings on the German coast – either the North Sea or the Pomeranian beaches of the Baltic. (7) Scheer’s withdrawal from the battle was not viewed as a mark of defeat. The Admiralstab had always known Britain’s margin of superiority was too great to challenge in a stand-up fleet engagement. When surprised by Jellicoe, Scheer merely followed strategic doctrine and withdrew in the face of superior numbers. However, the destruction of 3 British battlecruisers could be considered an “ambush victory”. (The very thing Jellicoe had warned Beatty against.) (8) By mid-1916, German leadership (including the Kaiser) had begun to think in terms of a “negotiated” peace. A largely intact Hochseeflotte would be a powerful bargaining chip at the negotiating table. Scheer’s withdrawal at Jutland preserved that option. SMS Von der Tann as she would have appeared circa 1915. Von der Tann was the first “Grosse Kreuzer” commissioned into the Kaiserliche Marine and the progenitor of the “so-called” battlecruisers of the Imperial Navy. She was, in fact, the first warship to demonstrate the successful merger between the large cruiser and the battleship – the “fast-battleship”. The detail in this superb 3-D graphic is well worth careful examination. On the British side: (1) The “risk theory” was discounted. Admiral Tirpitz had built the Hochseeflotte based on the “risk theory”. He hoped to build enough battleships to threaten the British with unacceptable losses -- possibly reducing Britain to a second or third class naval power. At Jutland, British capital ships outnumbered the Germans nearly 2 to 1. The British were not the ones “at risk” – the Germans were. So much for the “risk theory”. (2) The Germans failed in their tactical objective of destroying a substantial portion of the Grand Fleet. (Though sinking three battlecruisers is a pretty good start.) (3) The British prevented the Germans from breaking the economic blockade of Germany, which would eventually strangle their “home front” and bring the war to a close in late 1918. (4) The Royal Navy maintained control of the sea lanes, exercising Alfred Thayer Mahan’s dictum of “sea control” to Britain’s fullest benefit – while Germany was confined to the Heligoland Bight and the Baltic Sea. HMS Lion leading the “Splendid Cats” into battle. Based on the facts, and in light of subsequent actions by the British and German fleets, it is obvious there was no clear-cut victor. In this instance, both the Grand Fleet and the Hochseeflotte could claim to have partially satisfied their objectives – notably without crippling losses. The Germans clearly won a “tactical” victory. Everything they accomplished had either limited political ramifications, or was directly tied to the operation of a battle fleet at a tactical level. The Imperial battlecruisers were magnificent weapons superbly handled by Hipper, and accounted for all three capital ships lost by the British. German gunnery, as a whole, was far superior to that of the British. The battle line of the Hochseeflotte was a tight and well-controlled formation that responded quickly to command signals. And through it all, the various German squadrons worked in close cooperation with one another. The British lost the “tactical” Battle of Jutland for a number of reasons. Beatty and his battlecruisers managed to perform brilliantly in the last few minutes before the battleships opened fire on one another – but those were the only few minutes. Early in the battle, Beatty nullified the advantage of longer range guns by allowing Hipper to close to a range suited to him – and then open fire first. Then he threw away his greatest advantage in failing to coordinate his two squadrons (only ten ships) during “the run to the south” and “the run to the north”. And after Scheer’s second “battle turn away” he failed to reestablish contact with the enemy. At age 57, Jellicoe was undoubtedly a creature of the Victorian Era navy. Regardless of his innate intelligence and abundance of technical knowledge, he and his captains were finely crafted products of the rigid and class-conscious hierarchy of the Royal Navy. None above the rank of captain could be called dashing, bold, or heroic – but they had spent a lifetime perfecting the craft of handling ships and men – and none would flinch at the sound of the guns. Jellicoe handled his battle fleet with a calm and considered skill, outmaneuvered Scheer twice, and overwhelmed his enemy with “fire superiority”. But the Grand Fleet was cumbersome and not nearly as agile or responsive as the Hochseeflotte – so there were no bold plans nor elaborate maneuvers. And Jellicoe’s captains had not been sufficiently impressed with the need to keep the flagship informed. But I can say with all confidence that no man in the Royal Navy could have handled the fleet better than Jellicoe. Unlike Beatty, Jellicoe knew a simple “tactical” victory would not be enough. Due to his quick thinking and cool judgment, the British won the all-important “strategic” victory at Jutland. When the smoke cleared, Britannia still ruled the waves and controlled the North Sea – more or less. The day after the battle, Jellicoe was ready to put to sea with a powerful battle fleet – and the Germans were beginning to think it might not be wise to run such risks. Grand Fleet at sea, early 1914. There is, perhaps, a more pertinent question than who won the Battle of Jutland. Most historians have approached the subject from a simple and uncomplicated viewpoint: there was a battle – so there MUST be a winner. But there is more to be considered. Was it possible in 1916 to achieve any sort of decisive result between two modern dreadnought battle fleets? Or was it, in fact, impossible for two such technically advanced battle fleets to achieve any result remotely resembling Trafalgar? There were approximately 260 ships engaged at Jutland, spread over many miles of ocean. Were the means of communication then available to the two commanders capable of controlling long battle lines and far-flung cruiser groups? And what about the unanticipated effect of poor visibility on the “command” function? The vast quantity of funnel and gunsmoke from nearly 300 warships made it impossible for either Admiral to see more than ten or twelve ships at any given moment. The Hochseeflotte did a fairly professional job with their flag signals, searchlights, and wireless traffic – and managed a fairly tight formation. But Jellicoe’s line-ahead formation for his long and ponderous battle fleet was more necessity than choice. Any effort at a complicated envelopment of the German fleet was beyond his limited visibility and signaling capabilities. In the decade before The Great War, dreadnought technology and tactics had developed by leaps and bounds – forced along at a mind-boggling, frantic, pace. Jutland may be the proof it had exceeded human capabilities to control it. The years after Jutland produced many volumes of literature – especially between the wars. Most books were written by one major player or another, some staunchly defending their actions, while others tried to blame someone else for their failings. After WW II, the senior commanders were dead, and an entirely new generation of writers began examining Jutland with unbiased eyes. Though there is a new Jutland book every few years, none have yet produced a clear consensus as to who was victorious – or if there was a victor at all. The battle is now widely viewed as indecisive, and this view remains influential. There has, of late, been a literary trend proclaiming the battle the “last hurrah” of the Dreadnought Era, and therefore of little significance. (There is always a “new school of thought”, every five or ten years, that feel it necessary to rewrite the knowledge on Robert E. Lee, Erwin Rommel, or the Battle of Waterloo.) The “new school” believes battleships became irrelevant with the coming of mines, torpedoes, and submarines, and Jutland merely proved it. That is simply WRONG. By 1916 the floating mine had come of age, but the submarine and torpedo were still primitive and unreliable. Neither weapon, though useful, proved particularly deadly at Jutland. The battleship coexisted alongside mines, torpedoes, and submarines for the first four decades of the 20th Century and continued to be the measure of a nation’s naval power. Numbers of battleships were built between the wars -- largely due to the “old school” influence of the “battleship admirals”. And it was only in 1940 at the Battle of Taranto, 1941 at Pearl Harbor -- and the loss of HMS Prince of Wales and Repluse in the South China Sea -- that the battleship was supplanted by the aircraft carrier. But in 1916, submarines and torpedoes were both new and largely untried, proved difficult to operate, and were frequently unreliable. For the record – was the Battle of Jutland indecisive? Quite possibly – because the status quo hardly changed. But the dreadnought battleship and the Battle of Jutland – were ABSOLUTELY relevant to their time and place. The 5th Battle Squadron at sea during the Jutland sortie – HMS Barham leading Warspite, Valiant, and Malaya. LESSONS LEARNED There were a great many lessons learned from the battle of Jutland – most of them the hard way. The two worst lessons learned by the Kaiserliche Marine could be attributed directly to Admiral von Tirpitz. Promoted to Grosseadmiral by 1911, he had dominated the Kaiserliche Marine for very nearly 20 years -- strategic and tactical thought – and more importantly, warship design. Once war broke out in 1914, his design decisions and compromises came back to haunt the capital ships of the Hochseeflotte. Beginning with the first battlecruiser, SMS Von der Tann, the armor suite was a brilliant piece of work. But Tirpitz, ever mindful of the financial limitations imposed by the Reichstag, did everything in his power to keep the costs down. With each new battlecruiser, the size, tonnage, speed, and armament increased – dramatically raising the price tag. Eventually, it became standard practice on both battleships and battlecruisers to reduce the waterline armor belt as it neared the bow and stern. The standard pattern became a 12-inch main belt running from “A” turret to “D” turret. Beyond that, the armor belt extended to the bow and stern, but only with a 4-inch thickness. At the time, Tirpitz deemed that to be sufficient protection. By 1910, building costs had skyrocketed and the Derfflinger Class, still on the drawing boards, was overweight and over budget. It was suggested the armor on the bow section might be reduced below the standard 4-inch thickness. Herr Hullmann of the design bureau counseled against such a move…… “With a reduction in belt armor thickness on the bow, it should be understood large caliber shells will inevitably strike the ship there. One must then expect the ship will fill with water forward. If the damage is sufficient, leaks will occur that cannot be sealed with the means available onboard. The ship’s outer hull, to which the armor is secured, will undoubtedly leak, and the forecastle ahead of the citadel transverse bulkhead will certainly fill, and could not be kept drained with the means available onboard”. Herr Hullmann’s explanation stopped them from reducing the armor thickness, but none of them realized he had put his finger on the “Achilles Heel” of all Imperial battlecruisers. The midships sections of German armor belts extended vertically up to the main deck, but at the bow and stern they did not. In effect, the bow armor protection was not thick enough, nor did it cover a large enough area. At Jutland, three of Hipper’s five battlecruisers were heavily damaged by gunfire -- in the bow, above and below the waterline. SMS Lutzow could not be saved and was abandoned and scuttled. SMS Derfflinger, her sister-ship, was heavily damaged in exactly the same manner, but managed to reach the Jade. SMS Seydlitz took devastating damage to the bow and forecastle and arrived in the Jade more sunk than afloat. It should be noted both Moltke and Von der Tann suffered large caliber hits and flooding in the equally lightly armored stern section. It is, indeed, ironic that after all that careful planning and design, all those adjustments to the complicated armored suite, and the tremendous amount of damage they were able to absorb – Hipper’s magnificent battlecruisers had a “glass jaw”. SMS Derfflinger taking on ammunition while moored in Schillig Roads. Derfflinger is seen as she might have looked in early 1915 – after the Battle of Dogger Bank. Upon returning from battle, the Panzerkreuzer was assigned to picket duty, but the job of making the ship “battle ready” went on regardless. While minor repairs were being made by the crew, the gunnery crews were tasked with restocking the ship’s magazines. In order to speed-up the process, lighters have come alongside both the seaward (port) side, as well as the shallow, inshore side. Same scene, view from astern. The beautifully detailed model of Derfflinger is courtesy of "Barroco Hispano", and the tugs, lighters, and mooring buoys are from “AP”. The second lesson learned also applied to design decisions made by Tirpitz – the gun caliber of the Panzerkreuzer. The chosen main battery guns of the Kaiserliche Marine were the 11-inch SK-L/45, and later, the 11-inch SK-L/50, followed by the 12-inch SK-L/50. The long-barreled, high velocity weapons were, indeed, excellent – and their higher velocity reduced the time of flight of the shells, while imparting greater accuracy and armor penetration through increased kinetic energy. This was especially so with the 11-inch weapon, while the greater weight of the 12-inch shell improved penetration. At the time of Von der Tann’s design, the Admiralstab became aware 12-inch guns would be mounted on the British Invincible Class battlecruisers. Tirpitz was urged to change Von der Tann’s 11-inch armament to the excellent and available Krupp 12-inch gun. Taken at face value, the request for a larger gun, equal to your enemy, only makes sense. Tirpitz, however, believed in the “volume of fire” theory -- smaller shells, fired faster, would do the job. This theory did not take into account the weight of shell and the size of the bursting charge. The increase in gun size was declined on the grounds of additional cost and a delay in construction time. The request to jump to 12-inch guns was again made when the Motlke Class was designed – and again with SMS Seydlitz. Each time the request was refused for the same reasons – increased costs and delays in the design or construction process. When the Derfflinger Class design was undertaken, the British had already armed a number of battlecruisers and battleships with 13.5-inch weapons, which outclassed the German 11-inch gun. The disparity was so painfully obvious it could no longer be ignored – so the Derfflinger Class got 12-inch weapons. But during the discussion, the point was raised that there was talk in Britain of going to a 15-inch weapon. This, alone, should have been an “alarm bell” to Tirpitz. If there was “talk” in Britain of a 15-inch gun, that meant Vickers already had one under development – and the Royal Navy would most certainly use it. British pre-war Admiralty memorandum can actually shed some light on this subject. Jellicoe, as Second Sea Lord and Controller of the Navy, produced a 1909 study on the comparison of armor and gun calibers between the Royal Navy and the Imperial Navy. Even then, German ships were known to be better armored than comparable British warships – because of their high quality armor and internal subdivision. Because German technology produced a savings of weight in the propulsion plant, it could be directly applied to additional armor. Just one comparison (and there are others) will illustrate this point. HMS Queen Mary was given 3,900 tons of armor plate on a total displacement of 27,200 tons. Her German contemporary, SMS Seydlitz carried 5,200 tons of armor plate on a displacement of only 24,593 tons. Seydlitz held a small advantage in speed. The Germans had gained a distinct technological advantage over the British because their turbines and boilers were custom-made with weight-saving materials and designs. Their boilers were smaller and more efficient because they used small water tubes as opposed to the larger British “steam box” method. German turbines were just as sturdy and efficient – but used less steel of a higher quality. And Krupp rifles were much lighter than British weapons of an equivalent performance. Jellicoe’s memorandum went on to point out the superiority of German guns. For example: the standard German 11-inch gun weighed considerably less than its’ British counterpart and had better ballistics, with a penetrating force equivalent to the British 12-inch weapon. The newly developed German 12-inch rifle was an unknown quantity at the time of the memorandum, but Jellicoe prudently recommended new construction for the Fleet be armed with a 13.5-inch weapon developed by Vickers. It was later found that Krupp’s 12-inch gun exceeded the performance of the Vickers weapon. The Vickers 13.5-inch gun tube weighed in at 76 tons – Krupp’s 12-inch rifle weighed only 48 tons. The reason for the difference in weight and performance is simple (and I will keep this short and simple). The British armaments industry had adopted a “wire-wound” gun tube for heavy artillery and naval guns in the 1890’s. A central core is cast and then bored out to form the gun barrel. In Britain, it was discovered that the steel “bore-tube” was prone to failure due to impurities in the metal. British steel was manufactured with the Siemens-Martin “open-hearth” process. Consequently, the cast “bore-tube” was tightly wrapped with several layers of steel wire cable as reinforcement, then “cased” by an outer steel jacket (which is what you see poking out of a gun turret). These guns were not suited to “enhancement”. If better performance was needed – the British had to build bigger, longer, and heavier guns to obtain it. Krupp guns were made of steel produced in special electric furnaces (the “crucible” method) which provided an exceptionally fine metal free of impurities. The process produces a high-strength steel with less weight. German designers opted for the “built-up” naval gun. This was a solid, bored-out, central gun tube, encased with as many as five, high-tensile strength, layered outer tubes of reducing size toward the muzzle. (If you look at a German gun tube, you will see they usually have “segments” that reduce in size as they approach the muzzle.) These tubes were precision tooled and fit tightly around the central core as reinforcement. This is the forward main battery turret of SMS Helgoland (mentioned above). This is a classic view of the German 12-inch SK-L/50 gun. These guns were “built-up” as opposed to “wire-wound”. The difference between the two can be seen easily. If you look closely, there are three “segments” in each of the gun barrels. Each successive segment (or tube) increases in diameter as it approaches the breech of the gun, located inside the turret. There would be several reinforcing tubes layered over the shell chamber inside the gun tube -- where the explosive power of the firing charges would be greatest. The strength and rigidity of this method allowed for much longer barrels. German guns tended to be 50 calibers in length, whereas British guns were no more than 42 to 45 calibers in length (wire-wound gun tubes always “droop” beyond 45 calibers). The added strength of the Krupp gun allowed a larger firing charge, which increased velocity -- while the lengthened gun tube, with its longer rifled bore, imparted greater spin on the shell – providing much greater accuracy. The strength and length of the Krupp rifles is largely responsible for the phenomenally accurate, and tightly grouped salvos seen at Jutland. The Krupp steel also showed less wear on the rifled grooves in the barrel, giving the guns a long service life before requiring a new liner (about 200 rounds). British gun accuracy tended to degrade considerably after 70 rounds. It was clear to anyone interested – German science, innovation, and metallurgy had jumped far ahead. Jellicoe’s memorandum showed remarkable foresight and, oddly enough, the Admiralty adopted the 13.5-inch gun while going a step further and encouraging Vickers to develop a 15-inch weapon. The Ordnance Chief of the Admiralstab recommended designing Derfflinger to accommodate a new 15-inch Krupp weapon that would be ready for use about the time the battlecruiser was launched. Tirpitz flatly refused the more powerful weapon. He agreed to 12-inch guns because the British had opted for the 13.5-inch weapon, and they were equal to the German battleship guns. But he balked at putting a weapon on a battlecruiser that was more powerful than those of the battle fleet. It is possible Tirpitz was reluctant to up-gun the battlecruisers because of the German Naval Laws. The laws fixed building rates at three battleships and one large cruiser per year. The armor suite of a battlecruiser was already approaching that of a battleship, and if he armed them with 15-inch guns they would be more powerful than the current German battleships. The Reichstag might well accuse him of building an entirely new and unauthorized ship type while disguising it as a large cruiser. Peacetime politics were the same in Berlin and London – admirals had to watch their political backsides. There was yet another possible reason for not up-gunning. Tirpitz always indicated the 11-inch was adequate to destroy the British battlecruisers, and he only went along with the 12-inch weapon because the British had forced his hand. It is just possible his purpose in clinging to the lower caliber gun was to ensure battlecruisers would be employed as fleet scouts and “cruiser killers” – not to fight in the line of battle. He may have feared the Panzerkreuzer with 12-inch or 15-inch guns would tempt the Hochseeflotte officers to use them just as they would any battleship. Whatever the reason, Tirpitz habitually designed under-gunned battlecruisers regardless of the wishes of his line officers and department heads. The British built their first six battlecruisers between 1908 and 1913 with 12-inch guns, then increased to 13.5-inch caliber in 1910. Tirpitz did not see the need to increase to the 12-inch gun until 1912 – and at that time he declined to jump ahead of the British with a 15-inch caliber for the Derfflinger Class. British shells kept getting larger, but it’s as though Tirpitz gave no consideration to the weight of shell. It’s really quite simple – the bigger shell meant more penetrating power on impact – and more weight meant a larger bursting charge on detonation. That adds up to a much greater destructive force – outside and inside the target’s hull. No one in the Kaiserliche Marine had any actual knowledge or experience with the destructive power of British 13.5-inch Lyddite shells prior to the war, and they came as something of a surprise at Dogger Bank. But German line officers had absolutely zero comprehension of the destructive force of the 15-inch shells they encountered at Jutland. It was, literally, difficult to believe the devastation wrought by a 15-inch shell weighing 1,900 pounds. A starboard side view of Derfflinger taking ammunition aboard. Inshore, abaft the stern turrets, a Sophia Class paddle tug has positioned two lighters – one with yellow-tipped armor-piercing shells, and another with brass-cased powder charges. Up forward is a Thor Class tug with two similar lighters in position. On the port side, astern, another Thor Class tug is pushing a shell lighter (diagonal model) up against the battlecruiser’s hull, while near the bow, a Helena Class paddle tug (diagonal) has positioned her two lighters and is standing by. Same scene, bow view. Note the sleek lines of the battlecruiser’s hull. German battlecruisers had been designed to withstand 12-inch gunfire, and the armor suite was supposed to keep them afloat long enough for their 11-inch guns to sink a British battlecruiser. It turned out the armor suite was capable of absorbing far more punishment than expected, but the 11-inch guns took longer than anticipated to dispose of their enemy. As the battle wore on, damage to Hipper’s battlecruisers continued to accumulate. But the real problem showed itself when the British 15-inch guns came into action. The destructive power of the British 15-inch shell was capable of overwhelming the German armor long before their 11-inch guns could inflict fatal damage to their opponent. Tirpitz’ stubborn refusal to upgrade main gun caliber ended up sending the Imperial battlecruisers into action with one arm tied behind their back. The larger 12-inch gun would have evened the odds a little, and inflicted more damage on the British battlecruisers – perhaps even sinking one or two more. Equipping Lutzow and Derfflinger with 15-inch weapons would have evened the odds considerably – and the superior gunnery skills of the Hochseeflotte would have conveyed a distinct edge. The Battle of Jutland was not lost at sea. It was lost years before -- on the drafting boards of the Reichsmarineamt. The 1st Battlecruiser Squadron, Battlecruiser Fleet, of the Grand Fleet. Top to bottom – HMS Lion (flagship) – Princess Royal, Queen Mary, and HMS Tiger – collectively known as “The Splendid Cats”. A tug is positioning two lighters against the stern of Lion, preparing to unload – paint – to keep her bright and shiny. And a motor launch is approaching her bow – possibly with Admiralty despatches. Princess Royal is “coaling ship”, and a tug has arrived alongside Tiger with fresh provisions and ship’s stores. This is what they might have looked like just days before sailing for Jutland. The battlecruiser models are courtesy of “Barroco Hispano”. The tugs, lighters, motor launches, boat booms, and mooring buoys are by "AP". The white steam tug alongside Tiger was “gifted” by “WolfZe”. The British, too, learned many lessons from Jutland, but not as many as they should have. Some “lessons” were merely excuses for poor design, poor training, or poor tactical performance. One such problem was defective ammunition. British shells tended to break up on impact – or failed to penetrate when they struck at an oblique angle. This serious issue only came to light quite by chance. Beatty had hosted a luncheon (more of a public relations event) aboard HMS Lion in August 1916. One guest was a Swedish naval attache recently attached to his embassy in Berlin. During conversation with Ernle Chatfield (Beatty’s Flag Captain) the attache explained the Germans considered British shells more the object of comic relief than fear. Of course, the matter was investigated and new shells designed. (Jellicoe had already pointed this out when he was Second Sea Lord, before the war.) But the munitions were not delivered to the fleet in sufficient quantity until April 1918. All 12,000 of them were duly loaded into magazines and never fired in anger. But – I will not go into all of the problems discovered by the British, since our subject matter is focused on the Imperial battlecruisers. Though -- there is one more point worth mentioning. A closer look at HMS Lion, name ship of the Lion Class battlecruisers. Note the exceptionally wide spacing between the aft turrets. Both Jellicoe and Beatty blamed the loss of HMS Indefatigable, Queen Mary, and Invincible on their inherently thin armor – and that was quite accurate. But recent information obtained by wreck divers found excessive numbers of bagged powder charges stacked outside the magazines in the working chambers and barbette trunks of the ship’s main gun turrets. This negligent handling of powder was discovered earlier, at Dogger Bank, when HMS Lion was nearly lost to a magazine explosion. New handling procedures were immediately put in place to prevent such a disaster. Apparently, the ammunition handling parties on Beatty’s battlecruisers reverted to their bad habits at Jutland in an attempt to increase their rate of fire. German shells caused flash fires in the turrets and barbette trunks, blowing up each of the lost battlecruisers – not to mention damaging several ships that did not explode. Current authors have decided the British armor was more than sufficient – it was actually the powder handling procedures that caused the loss of the ships. After the battle, an urgent investigation was made and the British powder handling arrangements were, indeed, found to be deficient. Older flash-proof scuttles in the magazine bulkheads were found to be less than safe, while some had actually been removed by turret crews to speed up the rate of fire. New “revolving door” scuttles were designed and hastily installed to prevent future disasters. Poor procedures may be technically true – but it rather “puts the cart before the horse”. Let me ask a simple question. If the armor was sufficient to keep the German shells out – how did the flash of a detonating shell get inside a turret or barbette trunk to start the fire? The German shells had to penetrate turret armor or barbette armor – or – fracture the armor badly enough to admit detonation flash into the interior and set off the powder. There is no other way. The British armor was NOT sufficient to keep the shells out. A closer view of HMS Tiger – the most handsome of all the British battlecruisers at Jutland. Note the armor plate “apron” designed around the three main battery turrets installed at deck level. One rather gruesome revelation resulted from the “finger-pointing” and petulant accusations of “The Jutland Scandal”. “The Scandal” was a thoroughly ugly business, and during the numerous examinations and investigations of every moment of the battle, the signaling failures of Flag-Lieutenant Ralph Seymour came to light. Needless to say, the facts did not bode well for his career. Prone to bad luck, he tried to marry a young lady who stood to inherit a large sum of money from wealthy relatives – Beatty’s step-niece, and Beatty’s wife’s money. The Admiral forthwith ordered young Ralph to direct his amorous attentions elsewhere. Seymour, completely disgraced, eventually flung himself off the cliffs at Beachy Head in 1922. And that brings us back to the original question – “Who won the Battle of Jutland?” The short answer is – nobody. But -- if anyone could be said to have been beaten – it was Beatty. He led six battlecruisers and four fast battleships against Hipper’s five Panzerkreuzer in a foolhardy dash without coordinating the movements of his battleships. Hipper sank two battlecruisers and thoroughly mauled the other four. Only the timely arrival of the fast battleships saved Beatty from utter destruction. Scheer could not possibly have won the battle, so it seems difficult to “lose” something you never intended – or attempted -- to win. Finally – considering the poor visibility, lack of sighting reports, and shells that didn’t penetrate – Jellicoe did not actually “win” the battle. But he did manage to avoid losing it – and that was vastly more important. The day after the battle, a New York City newspaper columnist summed-up the battle rather neatly…...”The German Fleet has assaulted its jailer – but it is still in jail.” A detail view of SMS Derfflinger taking ammunition aboard. The battlecruiser model by “Barroco Hispano” is, of course, a thing of beauty – but I mainly wanted to show a close-up of the amazing detail @AP has put into his tugboats and lighters. Each shell lighter has the projectiles laid out in neat rows, with each shell individually crafted. And each powder lighter has four rows of clearly visible brass cartridge cases. And if you look behind the Helena Class paddle tug, he has even made a powder lighter with the hatch covers still battened-down. This is the kind of detail that really brings a model to life. Vice-Admiral John Rushworth Jellicoe was promoted to 1st Sea Lord in November 1916. In essence, he was “kicked upstairs” to the Admiralty -- promoted so the fleet could be turned over to a more aggressive man. Jellicoe’s prudent handling of the Grand Fleet was hardly heroic, but it was sure and certain. And it preserved British naval supremacy for another generation. The failure to deliver a “second Trafalgar” was blamed on Jellicoe – determined mostly on the basis of criticism in a letter-writing campaign aimed at Jellicoe’s supposed “timidity”. The letter writer, Vice-Admiral David Beatty was appointed in his place as C.-in-C. of the Grand Fleet. Jellicoe was rudely sacked from the Admiralty in January 1918 by Lloyd George’s administration for his failure to find a “miracle cure” for German U-boat attacks on British merchant shipping. There was, in fact, hardly any way to prevent submarine attacks in those days – though a “convoy system” seemed to intimidate U-Boat commanders. But the simple fact is -- Lloyd George simply needed a scapegoat to cover his own political backside. (Despite whatever good he may have accomplished -- in politics, Lloyd George was a creature not to be trusted.) Jellicoe was created Viscount Jellicoe of Scapa Flow in March 1918, and promoted Admiral Of The Fleet in April 1919. He was appointed Governor-General of New Zealand in 1920 and upon his return to England was created 1st Earl Jellicoe (hereditary) and Viscount Brocas of Southampton in 1925. Though lavished with honors, he never again served in a military capacity. There was a great deal of intrigue and back-stabbing over the Battle of Jutland – mostly Beatty trying to shift the blame for his poor performance onto Jellicoe’s shoulders. Each admiral had a number of their own supporters and the situation elicited a great many letters in the newspapers – and even involved deliberate alterations to the official Admiralty reports of the battle (ordered by Beatty while serving as First Sea Lord). I suggest you Google “The Jutland Scandal” for full details – it’s far too complicated to cover here. Admiral Of The Fleet, Lord John Rushworth Jellicoe, died aged 75, at his London home in 1935 and was buried with full military honors in St. Paul’s Cathedral. Vice-Admiral Sir David Richard Beatty was appointed to command of the Grand Fleet in November 1916, but never got another crack at the High Sea Fleet. Ironically, the “Hell for leather” battlecruiser admiral immediately adopted the cautious operational strategy of his predecessor (Jellicoe) and never fought a fleet engagement on his own. (The man couldn’t coordinate ten ships at Jutland – what would he have done with nearly 200?) Beatty brought out the entire Grand Fleet in November 1918 to escort the Hochseeflotte to internment in Scapa Flow. (But it should be noted he guarded what he considered “his” victory like a miser’s hoard. He could have invited both Admirals Fisher and Jellicoe aboard Queen Elizabeth to attend the ceremonies – but he did not.) He was promoted full Admiral in January 1919, and to Admiral Of The Fleet in May 1919. In October 1919 he was created 1st Earl Beatty, Viscount Borodale, and Baron Beatty of the North Sea and Brooksby. In November 1919 he was appointed First Sea Lord of the Admiralty and served in that capacity until his retirement in 1927. His main goal as a peacetime First Sea Lord seems to have been trying to prevent the United States from supplanting Britain as the foremost seapower – though that “claim to fame” seems dubious. He was considered for the post of Governor-General of Canada in 1926, but Colonial Secretary Leo Amery rejected the notion...”no manners and an impossible American wife”. (In 1901, Beatty had married Ethel Tree – the wealthy heiress to Chicago’s Marshall Field Department stores.) Admiral Of The Fleet, Sir David Richard Beatty died in March 1936 and was interred in St. Paul’s Cathedral. Vizeadmiral Reinhard Scheer was lauded as a hero upon his return to Wilhelmshaven and was decorated by the Kaiser with Germany’s highest military honor -- the Pour le Merite (sometimes called “The Blue Max”). He remained in command of the Hochseeflotte and made several sorties into the North Sea to attack convoys and shipping concentrations, but to little effect. He could not afford to risk his small fleet – so there was little chance of a “safe” operation producing impressive results. In August 1918, Scheer was promoted to full Admiral and appointed Chief of Naval Staff to replace an ailing Admiral Holtzendorff. Scheer lobbied heavily for unrestricted submarine warfare because he saw little opportunity for the Hochseeflotte to achieve any significant results. He retired from the navy after the war and wrote his memoirs in 1919, but his life after the war was not pleasant. An insane intruder broke into his home in 1920 and murdered his wife, his maid, and injured his daughter, before committing suicide in the cellar. Scheer withdrew into solitude and wrote an autobiography published in 1925. In 1928 Scheer accepted an invitation from Earl Jellicoe to visit England, but died aged 65 before he could make the journey. He is buried in the municipal cemetery in Weimar. The inscription on the stone reads “Here rests Admiral Reinhard Scheer” with the single word “Skagerrak” carved below. The last warship built by the Reichsmarine of the Weimar Republic was the pocket-battleship Admiral Scheer launched in 1933. As a matter of some interest: Books and articles about the battle began to appear as early as late 1916 – mostly written by British or American authors – all in English – and all based on the British accounts of the action. None of them paid very much (if any) attention to the German literature or their available official records. Up until the 1970’s, it was not unusual to see Admiral Scheer referred to as “von Scheer”. This is a simple, but obvious, proof of how little fact actually appeared in books written in the first 50 years after the battle. Reinhard Scheer was born to a middle-class family in lower Saxony – certainly not the nobility. Upon his return from Jutland, Kaiser Wilhelm did offer to raise him to the Imperial nobility. But, for reasons known only to him, Scheer declined the offer and never received the much-coveted “von” before his name. Vizeadmiral Franz Ritter von Hipper also returned to a hero’s welcome – and justly so. His performance at Jutland was nothing short of magnificent. On 5 June 1916, for his conduct in the battle, Hipper received the Pour le Merite from the Kaiser’s own hand and a kiss on both cheeks. He was also awarded the Royal Bavarian Military Order Of Max Joseph, Commander’s Cross, by His Majesty, King Ludwig III of Bavaria – including elevation to Bavarian nobility and the title “Ritter” (knight). He was presented with several other awards, including the Royal Saxon Order of Albrecht, and all three Hanseatic League Crosses from Lubeck, Bremen, and Hamburg. On 12 August 1918, he was promoted full Admiral and appointed to command the Hochseeflotte -- but his time in command was short and unpleasant. The war was all but lost and within weeks, the crews of the Hochseeflotte began to demonstrate mutinous tendencies. By 29 October several battleship crews had mutinied, so the fleet was dispersed to various ports. On 9 November, Hipper personally hauled down his flag and departed the battleship Baden. Just twelve days later, on 21 November 1918, Hipper watched as his cherished battlecruisers led the Hochseeflotte to sea one last time – headed for internment at Scapa Flow as part of the Armistice agreement. With no fleet to command, there would be no more battles to fight, and Hipper retired in December 1918 after 37 years of service at sea. For the next year, he hid from the radical elements of the 1918-1919 revolutionaries that overturned the monarchy, then settled in a comfortable home in Altona, near Hamburg. Unlike Scheer, Hipper never wrote his memoirs or anything concerning his service during the war – he was confident the heroism of his men and battlecruisers spoke for him. Of the four senior admirals (on both sides) present at Jutland, Hipper made no mistakes that day – and was the only one to come away with his reputation burnished. In May 1932, Admiral Franz Ritter von Hipper died and was buried in his hometown of Weilheim. The Kriegsmarine later named their Hipper Class heavy cruisers after him. Upon hearing of Hipper's death, David Beatty said..."I am very sorry. One would like to express one's regrets for the passing of a gallant officer and a great sailor.” It would, no doubt, have pleased Hipper, and certainly – after the rough handling he had given Beatty – it would have made the old Bavarian buccaneer laugh. Elements of the German III Battle Squadron steaming past Heligoland Island. Painting by Claus Bergen. NEXT TIME…… THE THIRD SISTER MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his beautiful warship models. SPECIAL THANKS to my friend and partner, @AP, for his talents, meticulous models, colorful imagination, and extreme dedication. If you enjoyed anything – please punch the “like” button so WE will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of our ability. THANK YOU for your visit! You may wish to visit these CJ’s as well…… SERIES I: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: WILHELMSHAVEN SERIES II: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN Appearing – Work In Publication SERIES III: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: BREMERHAVEN Appearing -- ??? And please feel free to drop in at… THE SIMTROPOLIS SHIPYARD https://community.simtropolis.com/forums/topic/761469-simtropolis-shipyard/?tab=comments#comment-1766496

The French armored cruiser Dupuy de Lome in the early stages of construction at the Brest Arsenal Shipyard – circa 1888. She was not a large vessel by modern standards, but she would make a big impact on world-wide naval policy. IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN By: Dreadnought & AP Chapter 03: THE ADVENT OF THE ARMORED CRUISER French cruiser Dupuy de Lome seen after fitting out – circa 1891. BIRTH OF A CONCEPT At the same time the German construction plans were mired in indecision, the French were trying to formulate a naval strategy as well. They kept a wary eye on German construction, but their real problem was Great Britain. After more than two centuries of unsatisfactory naval conflict with Britain, the French Treasury bureaucrats, several admirals, and the naval constructors, had come to the conclusion that they could never out-build the British – battleship-for-battleship. Fortunately, the young firebrands in the fleet had long been promoting a revival of the “Jeune Ecole” (the Young School). This “school” of strategic thought shunned the battleship and espoused the cruiser as the “arm of decision”. The idea was to build a greater number of less expensive, fast, heavily armed cruisers to cover the globe and decimate English trade – a commerce war. The heavily armed French cruisers could destroy any enemy cruisers sent against them, forcing the British to detach battleships from the Home Fleet to deal with the problem. With British battleships scattered all over the globe, the French battle line might hope to achieve parity in home waters – and a crushing victory. The plan did have an elegant, simple subtlety – and certainly appealed to the dashing, young captains of the fleet (who otherwise might never rise to the command of a battleship). But “protected cruisers” were no longer the best warship for the job. The developments in quick-firing guns, new propellant powders, and armor-piercing explosive shells made some sort of side armor an absolute necessity. The development of the lighter, tougher, face-hardened Krupp steel (and similar armor compounds made by other nations) made it possible by the early 1890’s to reintroduce belt armor as an option. This made the concept of the “armored cruiser” a possibility. And the French naval architects seized it. (If you’re #2 – you’re always looking for an edge!) THE DUPUY de LOME INNOVATION The cruiser Dupuy de Lome (named for her designer – Henri Dupuy de Lome) was laid down in 1888. She was intended to be an “experimental” ship, specifically built to incorporate the advancing technologies of modern guns, more efficient engines, and especially the new face-hardened (and lighter) armor. Much trial and error ensued as different types of engines, boilers, guns, and hull forms were tested, accepted, or rejected. Commissioned for “experimental service” in 1890, she would remain largely experimental until stricken in 1910 as obsolete. But she led the way, and proved the problem of balancing speed, armor, and armament could be overcome. Dupuy de Lome had a full load displacement of 6,800 tons, a length of 400 feet, and her propulsion plant could outrun any contemporary battleship at a top speed of 19.5 knots. She was very fine-lined, with armor of variable thickness distributed throughout the hull. Her armament consisted of two 7.6 inch and six 6.4 inch guns in turrets on the main deck, along with four 17.7 inch torpedo tubes in swivel mounts, two on either broadside. The entire ship’s side was protected by 3.9 inches of steel, from the weather deck to the bottom edge of the “protective armor deck” (4.5 feet below the waterline). The curved “protective deck” was 1.2 inches thick and did not rise above the waterline. Between the “protective deck” and the boilers, engines, and magazines below, was a “splinter deck” 0.31 inches thick. The space between the two decks could be filled with coal to increase protection from shell fire and shrapnel splinters. The hull below the armored deck was divided into thirteen watertight compartments, with three more above the protective deck. The conning tower was 4.9 inches thick and the turrets had 4 inches. With a cruising radius of 4,000 miles at 12.5 knots, she was ideally suited to the role of a commerce raider – a point the British were quick to recognize. Having shattered the “glass ceiling” of balancing speed, armor, and guns, Dupuy de Lome was, in fact, the first modern armored cruiser. She vaulted onto the World’s naval stage while other powers were still building “protected cruisers”. And – despite a few performance issues – she did impress many foreign navies. Dupuy de Lome – circa 1895. France’s European rivals instantly saw the possible havoc that could be wreaked on the global shipping lanes by such a ship. They just as quickly came to the conclusion that deploying battleships to protect the trade routes would not be cost-effective – and might even fail due to their slow speed. The only possible answer to a commerce-raiding armored cruiser, was to build your own armored cruiser – preferably -- bigger, faster, and meaner. Designers the world over worked long nights producing designs as fast as possible. Japan, Russia, Italy, and of course, Great Britain – who had the most to fear from commerce raiders. Even the United States built 15 armored cruisers between 1891 and 1906, of which, the Tennessee Class are regarded by naval analysts as the best of their type ever built. USS Tennessee, armored cruiser, 1906 – 14,500 tons – 504 feet length – 22 knots – 4x10 inch – 16x6 inch – 4x21 inch torpedo tubes (submerged). USS Tennessee – profile plan. ARMORED CRUISERS OF THE IMPERIAL GERMAN NAVY SMS Furst Bismarck – 1900. The first armored cruiser commissioned into the Kaiserliche Marine. Meanwhile, back in Berlin, the various departments of the Imperial Navy Office were watching the developments in France with keen interest. The construction of Dupuy de Lome was hardly “top secret” and all the necessary information could be gathered quite easily by an embassy naval attache. The disturbing part was the implications of all that information. A squadron of fast, heavily armed, French commerce raiders could not only cause havoc on German trade routes, but they could also bombard colonial ports, and possibly attack wireless transmission stations. And – the not so obvious bad news -- the Kaiserliche Marine did not have a cruiser capable of confronting such a threat. The newest “protected cruisers” in the Hochseeflotte were simply no match for Dupuy de Lome or the cruisers that would follow her. Admiral Hollman, State Secretary of the Naval Office, realized the other naval powers were no more prepared to deal with the French cruiser than Germany. Very soon, a building frenzy of bigger, more powerful cruisers would begin in Britain, Russia, and Italy. And Germany, hampered by a financially reluctant Reichstag, would also have to begin building these big cruisers – not only to protect their colonies and trade routes, but to keep pace with rival navies. These large cruisers, if not employed in commerce raiding, would find their way into the battle fleet soon enough. So the armored cruiser came to the Kaiserliche Marine – unexpected, unwanted, and – quite possibly – unfunded. SMS FURST BISMARCK Armored cruiser Furst Bismarck laying at anchor – circa 1900. Note that she has tied off to a mooring buoy, or “barrel buoy” described in the preceding chapter. Armored cruisers from this period were sometimes bigger, and often more expensive, than the existing pre-dreadnought battleships. This was largely due to increases in gun caliber, the additional side armor, and the larger propulsion plants needed for high speeds. This was very nearly the case with the Kaiserliche Marine’s first armored cruiser – SMS Furst Bismarck. Despite considerable political opposition in the Reichstag, the ship was approved in 1896, and construction began at the Kaiserliche Werft in Kiel. SMS Furst Bismarck – profile plan. Furst Bismarck was, as something of an experiment, a single ship class. It was not uncommon when designing a radical departure from previous ships, for the Kaiserliche Marine to build one, evaluate it, and then decide where to go from there. But the main reason was because the Reichstag kept a strangle-hold on the purse strings, and they hardly ever authorized more than one or two warships at a time. SMS Furst Bismarck is being nudged into her berth at mooring points in the West Loch. A Nordwind Class tug is approaching from the left, and a Passat Class from the bottom. Furst Bismarck was a big and powerful cruiser for her day – in excess of 10,000 tons – and the Kaiserliche Marine would have none bigger until the Scharnhorst Class. The breakwaters are by “Uki” and the mooring points are by “Mattb325”. The two tugs are scratch-built by @AP. And this magnificently crafted, textured, and detailed armored cruiser is the scratch-built carftsmanship of @AP. She was named after the famed “Iron Chancellor”, Prince Otto von Bismarck. The design was a scaled-up version of the previous Victoria Louise Class protected cruisers, with nearly twice the displacement and a significantly more powerful armament. If you examine previous pictures in this chapter, you will readily see the profiles of Hansa and Furst Bismarck are remarkably similar. When faced with new challenges, or “rush jobs”, German naval architects invariably went back to their nearest successful design and altered it to suit the situation. Believe it or not, this method was quite successful and produced a more homogeneous fleet with highly reliable warships. The new cruiser would be quite capable of operations with the Hochseeflotte, but was primarily intended for trade protection and support of the Asian and Pacific colonies. The increase in guns and armor would allow Furst Bismarck to deal with rival armored cruisers, while making her a lethal threat to the smaller “protected” and “unprotected” cruisers she might encounter. She was, for all intents and purposes, meant to be a “cruiser killer”. In this view of Furst Bismarck, you can see the fine lines of her new hull form. Along the side of the hull, between the rows of port holes, you can see the slight “tumblehome” of her hull (captured expertly by AP). The tumblehome narrows the wider lower hull into a smaller upper deck area – a feature commonly found in warships of the late 1800’s. This provides a wider hull at the waterline and increases her stability and value as a gun platform. Furst Bismarck was 412 feet long at the waterline, with a beam of 67 feet, and a displacement of 10,690 tons. She was steel-framed, both transverse and longitudinal, with a hull composed of a single layer of wooden planks, covered by Muntz Metal sheathing extending three feet above the waterline. Interestingly, the lower portions of the ship, from stem to stern, were covered with bronze plating. The hull had 13 watertight compartments with a double bottom running 59% of the ship’s length. The armored cruiser was driven by three vertical-stroke, four-cylinder, triple-expansion engines, powered by four Thornycroft boilers (built under license by Germaniawerft) and 8 cylindrical boilers, with a total of 32 fire boxes. Needless to say, she shipped a large compliment of stokers. She was given the new triple screw arrangement for maximum power output and achieved, with maximum effort, 18.7 knots on trials. Electrical needs were met by five generators providing a total of 325 kilowatts at 110 volts. Another view, from the bow. Again, you can see the “tumblehome” along the hull as well as the efficient layout of the “weather decks” – making use of every square inch of the reduced upper deck area. The beautiful little Sophia Class paddle tug, at left, is pulling a “double tow” of lighters loaded with various crates and boxes of “ship’s stores”. Once again, the tow lines between the tug and the lighters would be much longer in the “real world” – but I chose to shorten the towing hawsers for in-game visual appearance. The big cruiser’s main battery consisted of four 9.4 inch, SK-L/40 guns, mounted in twin turrets, one fore and one aft, “book-ending” the central superstructure. The “C/98” turrets were hydraulically operated and of an unusual, but interesting, elongated-oval shape with a very low silhouette. Produced by Krupp, the guns used a brass-cased powder charge to fire a 310 pound shell out to approximately 18,500 yards (10.5 miles). The rate of fire was three rounds per minute with magazine space for 78 rounds per gun. I think I need to explain the “SK-L/40” designation at this point – you will be seeing many such designations as we go along. The “L/40” refers to the caliber and length of the gun tube. The “SK” is an abbreviation for “schnelladekanone”, which loosely translated means “fast loading gun” – or what the naval scholars call a “quick-firing” (QF) gun. In this broadside view of Furst Bismarck you get a good view of the uniquely-shaped main battery turrets fore and aft, as well as the secondary casemated turrets arranged in the forward and aft superstructure, as well as in the typical “pyramid arrangement” amidships. The two large “tower masts” are referred to as “military masts”, and though different in every navy, they were a common feature at the turn of the century. If you look closely, you will even see “AP’s” creative placement of the crew – they are “closed-up” at their “sailing stations”. This shot also gives you a close-up of the paddle tug Sophia and her tow. The secondary battery was twelve 5.9 inch SK-L/40 (QF) guns in turreted casemates. They fired armor-piercing shell at a rate of 5 rounds per minute, out to a range of 15,000 yards, with magazine storage for 120 shells per gun. They were pedestal mounted and manually trained and elevated. Torpedo boat defense was provided by ten 3.5 inch SK-L/30 (QF) guns mounted in both casemates and pedestal mounts with shields – all manually operated. These smaller guns could throw out a blizzard of shells, at 15 rounds per minute, to a range of 7,500 yards. The “hitting power” was rounded out with six 17.7 inch torpedo tubes, with a total of 16 torpedoes. One tube was a swivel mount on the stern, two were submerged on either broadside, and the sixth was submerged in the bow. This is a close-up of Furst Bismarck’s bow. Note the detail built into something as simple as the anchor chains and capstans and even the small boats secured on either side of the bow. The degree of work on the main battery turrets is amazing. The heavy, segmented, gun barrels are depicted accurately, rather than simply glossed-over as a “gun”. The amount of detail on the roof of the main battery turret is meticulous. The slightly weathered look of the hull and upper works is fantastic – even the tone and texture of a weathered Teak deck that has been “holy-stoned” for countless hours. One of the most significant advances over the protected cruiser was Furst Bismarck’s armor scheme. And -- the inclusion of an “armored belt” was the radical step forward from previous classes. “Krupp Steel” was used throughout which was, as mentioned earlier – pound for pound -- tougher and more shot resistant than other armor of the period. Furst Bismarck’s belt was an amazing 7.9 inches thick amidships, tapering to 3.9 inches at bow and stern. Most foreign cruisers started with a 4 inch belt that tapered to 0.75 inches at the ends, and usually only covered the center portion of the ship – leaving most of the forecastle and stern portions unprotected. Behind the midships portion of the new cruiser’s belt, the designers placed additional 3.9 inch plates to cover critical areas – turret barbettes, magazines, boilers, and engines. The main protected armor deck (at the waterline) was 1.2 inches thick, with 2 inch sloping sides. The forward conning tower had 8 inch sides and a 1.6 inch roof, while the aft conning tower had 4 inch sides with a 1.6 inch roof. The main battery turrets were 8 inches on the sides with 3.9 inch roofs, while the 5.9 inch gun turrets had 3.9 inch sides and 2.8 inch gun shields. All casemated guns were protected with 3.9 inch shields. A stern close-up. Since Furst Bismarck was destined to be the flagship of the East Asiatic Squadron, she had been designed with “flag-officer” quarters beneath the fantail deck. Note the admiral’s private stern-walk wrapped around the hull. Since some of you may be wondering about the word “Furst” in the cruiser’s name – loosely translated, it means “Prince”. As in -- Otto, Prince of Bismarck, Count of Bismarck-Schonhausen, Duke of Lauenburg -- (In German -- Otto Furst von Bismarck, Graf von Bismarck-Schonhausen, Herzog zu Lauenburg.) In a nutshell, Furst Bismarck had, roughly, three times the armor protection of her contemporaries! While this might sound like a good thing, we have to go back to a basic and recurring problem in ship design; the need to balance guns, armor, and speed. We could get into a very long and complicated discussion about balancing a warship design – but it all comes down to the weight of the materials in each of the three categories. It’s all about the weight. If you “invest” too heavily in one category – you must reduce the weight in the other two categories. The excessive amount of armor in Furst Bismarck may very well account for the fact that she could only make 18.7 knots at maximum effort. In 1900 that might be acceptable – but by 1910 – it would be a liability in combat. It is almost certain her disappointing speed trials resulted in less armor and more speed in the follow-on classes of armored cruisers. By 1909, SMS Blucher would be capable of 25.4 knots. Since harbors are crowded and bustling with activity, they are difficult places to maneuver big warships. And all large ships find that shallow water effects their rudder control. Consequently, you see Furst Bismarck (a diagonal model) being moved toward the Munitions Replenishment Basin by a Passat Class tug, escorted by two Nordwind Class to assist with difficult turns. On the left, you see groups of lighters and sailing luggers tied-up at mooring “dolphins”. Tugs, lighters, luggers, mooring dolphins, and the excellent cruiser -- are courtesy of “AP”. Her hull was launched in September, 1897, and her “fitting-out” work began. (See previous chapters for “fitting-out” details.) In early March 1900, while the shipyard was completing the job, the ironclad SMS Sachsen accidentally collided with the new cruiser, slightly damaging her stern. The accident delayed the start of sea trials until 19 March. Initial testing revealed Furst Bismarck to be an excellent sea boat in heavy weather and very quick to answer the helm. But she did have an excessive roll in beam seas and her massive propulsion plant set up a heavy vibration at high speed. There was a need for alterations to the ship, but the Chinese Boxer Uprising had broken out in late 1899, and the East Asiatic Squadron needed reinforcements. The alterations would have to wait. Here you see a close-up of Furst Bismarck’s bow. Notice the placement of the officers and crew. They are at their “sailing stations”. You have an excellent view of the “tumblehome” built into the hull design and masterfully portrayed by “AP’s model work. Another area in which he excels, are the gun turrets. Note the detail on the roof – the round sighting hood in the center, the two square exhaust fans, and the individual riveted armored roof plates. The canvas jackets where the gun tubes enter the turret form a seal to protect the turret interior against smoke and gases when firing. Each of the 9.4-inch barrels has three progressively smaller segments – just as they were manufactured at the Krupp gun works. And they are not just “little sticks” poking out of the turret – they’ve got girth and “heft” – just as in real life. The lower picture is a bit blurry – but you can see the impression of power in those gun barrels. OPERATIONAL HISTORY At the end of June, 1900, Furst Bismarck slipped her moorings and steamed out of Kiel on what would become an eight year tour of duty in the Far East. She stopped to coal in Gibralter, and again at Port Said, made the transit of the Suez Canal, and coaled before leaving, at Port Tewfik. She anchored for a day or two off Perim Island, at the southern end of the Red Sea, to allow the crew to recuperate from the effects of heat exhaustion, then put in at Colombo (Ceylon) before pressing on to Singapore. Arriving in Singapore on 4 August, Furst Bismarck received orders to escort the troop ships Frankfurt and Wittekind to Tsingtao, where Vice Admiral von Bendemann transferred his flag aboard. The next few weeks were spent awaiting additional troop ships and warships from Germany, including a “Detached Division” of the four pre-dreadnought battleships of the Brandenburg Class. Eventually, the German Empire would contribute 17,000 soldiers and 24 warships to the “Eight Nation Alliance”. The force ultimately fielded 70,000 men and 250 warships to fight the “Boxers”. Among that ground force was a sizable Royal Navy contingent commanded by Captain John Rushworth Jellicoe. The young captain was seriously wounded during the fighting and was appointed a “Companion of the Order of the Bath” by Her Majesty Queen Victoria – and awarded the “Order of the Red Eagle with Crossed Swords” by His Imperial Majesty Kaiser Wilhelm II. More about Captain Jellicoe later. Furst Bismarck participated in troop landings, bombardments, the blockade of the Yangtze, and dozens of other tasks and duties. By July, 1901, the fighting had nearly ceased and the East Asiatic Squadron returned to its normal peacetime footing. In September, the Chinese signed the “Boxer Protocol”, ending all fighting. But the experience convinced the Reichsmarineamt (Imperial Navy Office) of the importance of logistics in projecting naval power over great distances, and a maritime transport department was created in 1902. Between the forward bridge and the aft control position, lies the midships section of the cruiser. Here you can see how the area has a “sunken” deck, with elevated “cat-walks” leading to gun positions, accessing the ship’s boats, and connecting the bridge forward with the aft control position. You also have an excellent view of the 5.9-inch secondary battery, deployed in two ocher colored turrets and two casemated turrets below and amidships. This was the beginning of that “slab-sided” look that came to be standard in all German armored cruisers. The largest part of Furst Bismarck’s tour in the Far East was an endless string of port calls in Tokyo, Yokohama, and Kobe, with regular dry-docking in Nagasaki to repair the leaky stern that had been damaged in the fitting-out basin. More port calls to the Russian concession in Port Arthur, with side trips to Sydney and Melbourne, Australia. And the occasional formal diplomatic call to Hong Kong and Singapore to celebrate King Edward VII’s birthday, or by Royal Navy invitation to attend social functions. There was a formal diplomatic call at Tokyo where Vice Admiral Geissler (then commanding) was received by Emperor Meiji. A tour of East Asian ports even included a rare visit to the Dutch East Indies in 1902. When necessary, the big cruiser would lay at anchor off a port or river mouth (Yangtze) to protect German nationals and their property, if there was unrest ashore. At the same time, the warship conducted regular drills and participated in group training exercises. Furst Bismarck won Kaiser Wilhelm II’s Schiesspreis (Shooting Trophy) four years in a row. In 1903 a special squadron visit was paid to the Russian Pacific Fleet based in Vladivostok, in honor of the Tsar’s birthday. This is a close-up of Furst Bismarck’s stern detail. The thick military mast with the large “fighting top” is a feature common to several navies at the turn of the last century. They quickly fell out of favor as naval technology advanced and the excessive weight of metal could be put to better uses. Note the red and green cones on the signal halyards. These are used to indicate to the next ship astern the position of the rudder on this ship. The green cone raised indicates a turn to starboard – red raised, to port. In their current position, they indicate rudder amidships. You will see these cones in many photographs of the period. You can clearly see the fine detail of the searchlight atop the aft control position. In the right of the picture, you can even see two seamen “larking-about” on the admiral’s stern walk. Risky business, that. Early 1904 saw tensions running high between Russia and Japan over their disputed interests in the Korean Peninsula. Orders from the Admiralstab (Admiralty Staff) directed the East Asiatic Squadron to remain strictly neutral in the event of hostilities. Small cruisers were sent to Port Arthur and Chemulpo to evacuate German and Austro-Hungarian nationals, and war finally broke out in February. After the engagement in the Yellow Sea, on August 10th, the damaged Russian battleship Tsesarevich and cruiser Novik managed to reach Tsingtao, where they were interned for the remainder of the Russo-Japanese War. The rest of 1904 was spent by Furst Bismarck and the squadron enforcing the internment of the Russian ships, while destroying Russian naval mines endangering German shipping. Early 1905 saw riots in China, forcing most of the squadron to remain in Chinese ports until March. All ships were recalled to Tsingtao as the Russian Second Pacific Squadron approached the area, but normal routine was resumed after the Russians were annihilated at the Battle Of Tsushima. In August, a floating dry dock had been completed in Tsingtao, and Furst Bismarck underwent repairs in October. In December the squadron embarked on a tour of the southern East Asia Station, but the cruise had to be cut short due to unrest in Shanghai, necessitating Furst Bismarck's presence. The ship sent a landing party ashore, along with men from the gunboats Jaguar, Tiger, and Vaterland. They patrolled the city center and protected the German consulate, but took no active role in the unrest. This is another fine view of the detailed craftsmanship of the stern main battery turret and an excellent view of the two aft 5.9-inch guns in their turrets. There is a nice view of the stern detail outboard of the hull and the admiral’s stern walk. And, again, the “tumblehome” of the hull is clearly visible. The skylights in the fantail are located above the spacious quarters of the flag officer commanding the squadron. The next few years passed much as the others had – with the exception that these were largely peaceful. Furst Bismarck, as the largest ship on station, kept busy with port calls, diplomatic trips, “state” calls on Heads Of State, onboard tours for foreign dignitaries, the occasional spell in the floating dry dock at Tsingtao, and simply “showing the flag”. The presence offshore of a large cruiser always reminded a foreign ruler that peace was more desirable than a dozen of these steel beasts blockading his coastline and shelling his ports. At last, in early 1909 Furst Bismarck received orders to return to Germany for repairs. The ship had been overseas for just over eight years, and the amount and scale of work necessary could not be accomplished in Tsingtao’s floating dock, nor was it financially practical to do it in a dry dock anywhere in Asia. On April 8th, with an Army band playing ashore, and her crew manning the side, the big cruiser slipped her mooring buoy and steamed south into the Yellow Sea. On the 29th, she paused long enough to rendezvous in Colombo with the “new flagship” of the East Asiatic Squadron arriving from Germany – the new armored cruiser SMS Scharnhorst. Furst Bismarck arrived in Kiel on 13 June, and decommissioned on 26 June. This is another view of the midships area showing how the ship’s boats are stowed. You will also notice the many portholes in the ship’s hull. Since Furst Bismarck was designed to operate on foreign stations, they would most likely be in the tropics, so ventilation of the interior spaces would be of critical importance. Portholes were permitted in thinner-skinned cruisers, but only in certain positions aboard heavily armored capital ships – usually the thinly-armored bow and stern sections. Portholes were an instant indicator of thin armor plate on a warship. In 1910, Furst Bismarck was taken into Kiel’s Kaiserliche Werft Shipyard for an extensive modernization. Part of the work included conversion into a torpedo training ship. The work lasted four years, and was completed after the outbreak of WW I. Recommissioned on 28 November, 1914, she was used as a training ship due to her low combat value. Decommissioned once again in December of 1918, she served as a floating office until stricken from the Naval Register in 1919. She was sold for scrap and broken up in 1919-1920. At the time of her conception, there was a general lack of enthusiasm at higher command levels for the construction of Furst Bismarck. Admiral Hollman, the State Secretary of the Naval Office at the time, more or less accepted the dominance of the Royal Navy at sea. And he was well aware of Britain’s many shipyards, so he saw no need to compete with them. But he also understood Germany’s colonial possessions and trade routes had to be defended against marauding enemy cruisers. So -- despite significant political opposition in the Reichstag, the funds were appropriated and the Imperial Navy’s first armored cruiser was built. Fast enough for her day, Furst Bismarck had traded her speed potential for heavy guns and an impressive armor suite. But her true contribution was in providing design and building experience – and another step up the ladder of evolution. NEXT TIME…… INNOVATION ON A BUDGET MY MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his generously given time and talent providing so many beautiful warships for this series. MY SPECIAL THANKS to my partner and “maritime advisor” -- @AP -- for his considerable talents, valuable time, imagination, and hard work in providing so many beautiful and highly detailed models. If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit…... You may wish to visit these CJ’s as well…… SERIES I: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: WILHELMSHAVEN SERIES II: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN Appearing – Work In Publication SERIES III: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: BREMERHAVEN Appearing -- ??? And please feel free to drop in at… THE SIMTROPOLIS SHIPYARD https://community.simtropolis.com/forums/topic/761469-simtropolis-shipyard/?tab=comments#comment-1766496