North Sea Battleground: The War at Sea 1914-1918

by Bryan Perrett

  Dreadnought battleships of Admiral Sir John Jellicoe’s Grand Fleet at sea. The fleet’s battle squadrons were generally eight strong and sailed in parallel columns. By turning to port or starboard as required, this enabled them to form a line of battle very quickly. (IWM Q18121)

  Battleships of the German High Seas Fleet were also formed into eight-strong battle squadrons, sub-divided into two equal divisions. When at sea, the fleet preferred the lineahead formation for tactical reasons based on its escape from a superior force. The manoeuvre was known as the Gefechtskehrtwendung or Battle Turn-About, which involved every ship in the line reversing course simultaneously away from the enemy. The leading ship is possibly the Helgoland, a dreadnought completed in 1909. The Imperial Navy made extensive use of Zeppelin rigid airships for scouting purposes, but these operations were not always successful. Admiral Reinhard Scheer, the fleet’s penultimate commander, once expressed a wish that they would tell him where the British were rather than where they weren’t!

  At Jutland the High Seas Fleet included three battle squadrons of which the Second consisted entirely of old pre-dreadnought battleships, led by the Deutschland, which had actually served as fleet flagship until 1912. Her armament consisted of four 11-inch guns, fourteen 6.7-inch guns and twenty 3.4-inch guns. The secondary armament ammunition was so heavy that mechanical assistance was required to handle it, resulting in a slow rate of fire. She is seen here at gunnery practice on a calm day, firing what appears to be a full broadside.

  HMS Lion in 1914 with an inset photo of Beatty.

  The light cruiser HMS Birmingham in 1913.

  HMS Lion.

  HMS Lion.

  HMS Southampton.

  HMS Queen Mary.

  The attack on undefended Scarborough created such shock and anger that a surge in the armed services’ recruiting was the immediate result. Typical of the recruiting posters produced shortly after the event was this painting by E. Kemp-Welch.

  Oblique picture maps were a popular method of describing the course of an action to the general public. Not a great deal has changed since this example was drawn, although the Scarborough–Whitby railway fell a victim to Dr Beeching’s axe and has long been lifted. The commentary is not altogether accurate but provides the reader with a reasonable summary of events.

  A general view of Scarborough’s South Bay during the bombardment. The large building to the left of centre is the Grand Hotel, which sustained several hits. The castle is on the headland to the right. Below it is the small fishing harbour. In his excitement the editor of the Berliner Lokalenanzeiger displayed his ignorance of British geography by describing Scarborough as ‘the most important harbour on the ease coast of England between the Humber and the Thames.’

  A drawing for the Illustrated London News by S. Begg showing shells striking the Grand Hotel’s restaurant on the sea front. More shells can be seen exploding near the ruined castle and among the houses of the town.

  A watercolour by James Clark painted shortly after the engagement shows the scene on Hartlepool waterfront just after the German warships had opened fire, inflicting casualties on the infantrymen of the Durham Light Infantry. The Lighthouse Battery, on the right of the picture, is replying and smoke from the guns of the Heugh Battery is drifting across the scene from the left.

  Some of Hipper’s ships, including the battle cruisers Derfflinger and Von Der Tann and the armoured cruiser Blucher, on their way home after the bombardment. Hipper was unaware that he had been abandoned by the rest of the High Seas Fleet which had returned to harbour following a skirmish with British destroyers. The photograph was taken from the light cruiser Kolberg, the bridge of which had been stove in by heavy seas.

  A contemporary sketch by the artist Montague Dawson for The Sphere magazine showing the last moments of the Blucher with Indomitable steaming past in pursuit of the German battle cruisers. Attempts by British destroyers to rescue the Blucher’s survivors had to be abandoned when the destroyers themselves came under attack from an enemy Zeppelin and a seaplane. (The Mary Evans Picture Library)

  Most, but not all Zeppelin airships were operated by the Imperial Navy. It was believed, mistakenly, that by bombing targets in England they would break the civilians’ will to continue the war. This excellent study of Zeppelin L12 seem so have been taken as the ship was about to land, hence the cable seen dangling directly in front of the forward control gondola. A machine gun post for local defence is situated on top of the envelope. (IWM Q.58455)

  L12 was not a lucky ship. On the night of 9/10 August, in company with Zeppelins L9, L10, L11 and L13, it set out to bomb London. In a typical demonstration of the Zeppelins’ poor navigational qualities, L9 attacked Goole, L10 unloaded its bombs over Eastchurch airfield and the Thames, L11’s Captain thought that Lowestoft was Harwich and dropped all his bombs in the sea, and L13 turned for home with engine trouble. L12 arrived over Westcliffe-on-Sea believing that it was Great Yarmouth, was caught in searchlight beams, engaged by anti-aircraft guns and chased into the clouds by an Avro 504b fighter. It was again engaged by anti-aircraft guns over Dover and was brought down with a broken back into the sea between Ostend and Zeebrugge. The wreck was towed ashore by a German destroyer and broken up. (IWM Q.20358)

  The Zeppelins were expensive to produce and the results they produced in the strategic bomber role were disappointing. As the war progressed this role was increasingly taken over by the Imperial German Air Service’s Gotha and Staaken heavy bombers. This example is a Gotha Vb, manned by a crew of three and powered by two 250-hp Mercedes engines. It had a maximum speed of 87.5 mph and could reach a height of 19,500 feet. Its normal bomb load was one 500lb bomb with local defence supplied to two 7.9mm machine guns. In their day, these aircraft considered to be monsters of their kind. (IWM Q.67123)

  One of the High Seas Fleet’s battle squadrons making the Gefechtskehrtwendung or Battle Turn-About during the Battle of Jutland, photographed from a Zeppelin. Despite the naturally murky conditions of the evening, huge quantities of funnel smoke help to obscure the detail, but what was taking place is perfectly clear. This manoeuvre carried with it a high risk of collision and reflected the defeatist German view of any major encounter with the Grand Fleet, but at Jutland it saved the High Seas Fleet from destruction twice.

  The badly battered battle cruiser Seydlitz undergoing repair at Wilhelmshaven. If she had had to travel just a few more miles before reaching home there is no doubt that she would have foundered. As it was, her bows were almost awash and she was drawing 44 feet of water forward and listing heavily to port. With assistance from two pumping vessels she managed to stay afloat but in an attempt to lighten her the roof and some armour plate was removed from A turret, which was also stripped of its two 11-inch guns. Even then, it was necessary for the tug Albatross to drag her stern first across the Jade Bar. Her repairs were not completed until 16 September, three-and-a-half months after the battle. Despite being a great favourite of the German public, she never fought again. (IWM SP.2159)

  A fine-looking and superficially invulnerable ship armed with eight 13.5-inch and sixteen 4-inch guns, the battle cruiser Queen Mary gets under way. At Jutland she served in the 1st Battle Cruiser Squadron. Unfortunately, on British battle cruisers the danger of fire from an explosion within a turret spreading to the magazine below had not been eliminated, as it had on German battle cruisers and some battleships.

  Literally, gone in a flash. Some 29,700 tons of steel and armour plate vanish in a cloud of flame and smoke as flash penetrates one of Queen Mary’s magazines. Only eight men survived from a ship’s company of 1,266.

  German shells overfly HMS Malaya during the Battle of Jutland.

  Jutland hero Boy Cornwell.

  HMS Chester at Jutland. (Wylie)

  Damage to HMS Southampton after Jutland.

  Jutland 2.00pm. HMS Barham leading the 5th Battle Squadron.

  The 2nd Battle Squadron at Jutland.

  CHAPTER 4

  Off to Yarmouth
for the Day

  By the end of October Admiral Ingenohl was on the horns of a dilemma. The U-boat sinkings made excellent reading for the German public, but the High Seas Fleet had achieved very little and its morale was deteriorating as it swung idly around its anchors in obedience to the Kaiser’s diktat. What made the position even more difficult was the fact that those isolated German naval units still at sea were, so far, giving a good account of themselves. Off East Africa, for instance, the light cruiser Konigsberg had engaged and sunk the elderly British cruiser Pegasus in Zanzibar harbour. It had not been much of a fight as Pegasus was engaged in cleaning her boilers and was therefore nothing more than a stationary hulk whose guns were outranged by 1,000 yards. For the moment, Konigsberg had vanished as completely as if she had never existed.

  In the Far East another light cruiser, the Emden, commanded by Captain Karl von Müller, had sunk the Russian cruiser Yemtschuk (sometimes spelled Zemchug) and the French destroyer Mousquet in Penang harbour. Müller had then gone on a rampage around the Indian Ocean, sinking 21 Allied merchant ships, destroying cargo valued at £3 million and even bombarding Madras. The Emden was still at large and was being hunted as a matter of urgency by the British and Australian navies. At large in the Pacific was Vice Admiral Maximilian Graf von Spee’s East Asiatic Squadron, consisting of the armoured cruisers Scharnhorst and Gneisenau and several light cruisers. In time of peace, the squadron was based at Tsingtao, which was then a German treaty port and naval base on the coast of China. It was now believed to be replenishing its coal somewhere off the west coast of South America prior to rounding Cape Horn and entering the Atlantic.

  In the circumstances, therefore, it was incumbent upon Ingenohl to devise one or more operations that would avoid placing the High Seas Fleet in danger yet have a profound effect on British and German public opinion. These would involve raids on England’s east coast towns using the fleet’s fast battle cruisers, cruisers and minlayers. The British Grand Fleet was not large enough to protect the entire coastline and many areas were covered by elderly or light naval units. Nevertheless, the Grand Fleet would have to react to such a raid and if part of it could be ambushed and destroyed, this would bring the respective strengths of the two fleets closer together. In time, Ingenohl hoped, sufficient parity would be achieved for the High Seas Fleet to win a significant victory. Moreover, even if major elements of the Grand Fleet could not be lured into an ambush after specific raids, the fact was that the High Seas Fleet was able to carry out such raids at all was proof that Britannia no longer ruled the waves and that the Royal Navy was incapable of doing its job. This aspect as much as any other appealed to the Kaiser, who gave Ingernohl permission to proceed.

  The first objective was the seaside resort and port of Great Yarmouth on the Norfolk coast. More commonly known simply as Yarmouth, the harbour also provided limited naval facilities. Commanding the raiding force was Vice Admiral Franz Hipper, a Bavarian who had been appointed commander of the High Seas Fleet’s Scouting Forces. On this occasion his force included the battle cruisers Seydlitz, Von der Tann and Moltke, the armoured cruiser Blücher and the four light cruisers Strassburg, Graudenz, Kolberg and Stralsund, the last with 100 mines aboard.

  The raiding force left the Jade River at 16:30 on 2 November, followed later by two battleship squadrons whose task was to ambush any British warships that were pursuing the battle cruisers on their return journey. At 06:30 the following morning the raiders swept past a buoy which was identified as the Smith’s Knoll marker and were able to confirm their precise position. As they closed in on Yarmouth, a flashing light challenged two of the German cruisers. They immediately opened fire on its source, the minesweeper Halcyon, which was soon surrounded by fountains of water thrown up by bursting German shells of all calibres, although the damage inflicted was slight and only three of her crew were injured. On this occasion German gunnery was extremely poor due to inefficient fire discipline. Instead of allowing one ship to fire ranging salvos, all the battle cruisers blazed away at once so that none of them were able to identify their own splashes. Consequently, they were unable to adjust their range settings with any degree of accuracy. At this point two British destroyers, Lively and Leopard, entered the scene, causing further confusion when Lively began to make smoke that concealed the target behind an oily black fog. At 07:40 Hipper ordered the battle cruisers to shift their fire from Lively to Yarmouth itself. The result resembled nothing so much as pure opera bouffe for, once again, gunnery officers failed to provide their gun crews with an accurate range. Explosions erupted along the shoreline and tons of sand were blown skywards, but little or no damage was done.

  Stralsund now signalled Hipper that she had completed laying her mines in the area of Smith’s Knoll and the admiral gave the order for the raiding force to withdraw, which it did at speed. In the meantime Halcyon despatched a radio signal reporting the presence of the raiders. A third destroyer, Success, joined Lively and Leopard, while three more raised steam inside the harbour. Simultaneously, three submarines, E-10, D-3 and D-5, glided past the mole and out into the open sea in the hope of sinking one at least of Hipper’s ships. In was a vain hope, for the latter were now running for home at full speed. During the pursuit, D-5 struck one of Stralsund’s mines and sank, taking 21 of her crew with her.

  Despite Halcyon’s warning, it was 09:55 before Admiral Beatty’s battle cruisers were ordered south from their Scottish anchorage, followed by the Grand Fleet’s battle squadrons. Part of the reason for the delay was that news had just been received that on 1 November an action had taken place between the German East Asia Squadron and a much smaller British squadron under Rear Admiral Sir Christopher Cradock off Coronel on the west coast of South America. Two old cruisers, Monmouth and Good Hope, had been sunk with all hands. The reasons for the defeat were simple. Slow, under-gunned ships could not hope to get within range of faster, more powerfully armed opponents. The latter would dictate the range at which the battle would be fought, and as the former could neither fight nor flee, their end was inevitable. Cradock was dead but his squadron’s survivors, the light cruiser Glasgow and the armed merchant cruiser Otranto, had made good their escape, as he had ordered them to. He was, however, criticised for discarding a fifth warship prior to the action. This was the pre-dreadnought battleship Canopus with a main armament of four 12-inch guns but a maximum speed of only 12 knots, well below that of any of Spee’s ships. At first Admiral Sir John Jellicoe, commanding the Grand Fleet, could not be contacted because he was aboard a train, but as soon as he was advised of the situation he sanctioned the despatch of two battle cruisers, Invincible and Inflexible, to the South Atlantic under the command of Vice Admiral Sir Doveton Sturdee. The fact that the Royal Navy had actually lost a battle created a sense of shock that completely eclipsed what had taken place off Yarmouth. However, from his perspective as First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchill was unable to see anything more in the German attack than a badly executed raid.

  By the time Beatty’s battle cruisers were at sea, Hipper’s ships were 50 miles from Yarmouth and well on their way home, but thanks to a dense fog both they and the ambush force were unable to enter harbour that night and were forced to heave to in the approach area known as Schillig Roads. This resulted in the most serious loss of the entire operation. Aboard the armoured cruiser Yorck, part of the ambush force, typhus was believed to be present in the ship’s drinking water tanks and her commander, a Captain Peiper, requested leave to return to port. He was given permission to do so, subject to visibility improving. He subsequently denied receiving the condition attached to the approval. The result was that on the way into Wilhelmshaven, Yorck was steered past the wrong side of a buoy and into a defensive minefield in which she struck two mines, then capsized and sank. Fortunately, she went down in shallow water, permitting the rescue of 381 survivors sitting on the up-turned hull, but a further 336 men were drowned. It was a poor exchange for one small British submarine that was approaching obsolescenc
e. Peiper survived but could not be described as a lucky captain as the previous year he had been dismissed from the Blücher for running her aground. Following his court martial for losing the Yorck he was sent to manage a munitions factory in Turkey, an appointment that must have raised a number of eyebrows.