XCVII – Scheer Avoids Destruction
Scheer had devised an elaborate plan to outrun and outmanoeuvre Jellicoe, intending to pass to his north. Fearful that Jellicoe would block his exit eastwards, Scheer was mindful that the option of escaping via the Skagerrak be kept open. He swiftly turned the Hochseeflotte northwards and ordered an increase of speed. The reversal of the Hochseeflotte’s course momentarily confused Jellicoe, who found it hard to discern Scheer’s intentions given the large smokescreen. A north westerly course appeared completely inexplicable – yet the intentions of the German commander were soon apparent to Jellicoe, who ordered his ships to turn north. On the bridge of Iron Duke, Jellicoe sensed that an opportunity was present to place his fleet astride of Scheer’s new course. Squadron by squadron, the Grand Fleet altered its course, with Jellicoe seeking to make good the time lost to the confusion aroused by Scheer’s peculiar change of direction. Scheer forced his ships beyond their design speeds in the attempt to escape Jellicoe, more necessary than ever given the latter’s northward turn. The Hochseeflotte altered course to the northeast, with Scheer hoping that a final burst would put him beyond the grasp of the Grand Fleet and allow him to escape during the night. A race ensued in which one fleet attempted to outflank the other – despite the exertions of the Hochseeflotte, it was a race that the Grand Fleet won. Jellicoe had read the situation perfectly – he had reformed his vessels in line and was leading them on a convergent course with the Hochseeflotte. Scheer’s audacious gamble to evade the Grand Fleet had failed.
By 4:05pm, the Grand Fleet, now led by Marlborough of the First Battle Squadron, was in a position to cross the Hochseeflotte’s ‘T’. Fire between the two, intermittent whilst they had attempted to outmanoeuvre each other, resumed with ferocity, and once again, it was Scheer who came off worse. Nassau, at the front of the German line, was subjected to intense shell fire. Other German ships underwent a similar ordeal as the dreadnoughts of the Grand Fleet directed their immense firepower on the leading ships in the Hochseeflotte’s line. Scheer reacted rapidly when confronted by this new danger, performing another hasty about turn and then swinging hard to port. The Hochseeflotte swept round in an arc, navigating through the towering columns of water created by the shelling of the Grand Fleet. This placed him on his original south easterly course with the added bonus that Jellicoe was heading in the opposite direction. Having had his head in a noose, Scheer escaped again, losing just one destroyer during the complex action, sunk by the cruiser Cordelia. Furthermore, he was able to open a sizeable gap between the Hochseeflotte and the Grand Fleet. Again, Jellicoe turned the Grand Fleet around in order to keep pace with Scheer. Having had more than half of the Hochseeflotte within firing range until Scheer’s turn southeast, Jellicoe was now obliged to attack from afar. For the next hour and twenty minutes, the Grand Fleet and the Hochseeflotte both travelled on the same course, with intense firing exchanged between Jellicoe’s leading ships and Scheer’s rear vessels. The punishment meted out on the latter aggravated the increasingly lamentable predicament of the Hochseeflotte. The pre-dreadnoughts, Deutschland, Schlesien, Schleswig-Holstein and Hannover, slower than their dreadnought counterparts, struggled to keep pace with the main body of the fleet. Scheer, impatient of having to limit his speed to accommodate the design of the pre-dreadnoughts, considered abandoning them. However, he realised their potential sacrificial utility, and clung onto the expedient of maintaining the fleet as a united body. Blücher, having been mercilessly assailed on several occasions, tagged along independently, with her crew keeping the ship in order with superhuman endeavour. Of the dreadnoughts, Kaiserin, Grosser Kurfürst, Rheinland and Nassau had sustained the most serious damage. The superstructures, decks and turrets of these ships were peppered with shell holes; other vessels in the line were similarly damaged, if not as seriously. The battlecruiser Lützow was impaired by flooding; numerous cruisers and destroyers had suffered adversely in the melee that had ensued over the past six hours. It was increasingly evident that the Hochseeflotte was fit only to flee and not to fight.
Admiral Jellicoe successfully crossed the Hochseeflotte’s ‘T’
After 6:30pm, the ships of the Hochseeflotte were perfectly visible in front of the setting gun, their silhouettes blackened against the horizon. The fleets were heading into the Dogger Bank, and the calculated gunfire of the Grand Fleet continued to reduce the effectiveness of the Hochseeflotte. Under the strain of the unequal contest, the German dreadnoughts often fired erratically and less frequently than their British and American enemies. Cruiser squadrons vied for position between the two battle lines, conducting their own private battles, always wary of the larger ships around them. Two British ‘large light cruisers’, Glorious and Courageous, extravagantly armed with fifteen-inch guns but with perilously thin armour, were kept beyond the range of the German dreadnoughts. A number of hits from German ships had exposed their defensive deficiencies and Jellicoe was careful that Admiral Fisher’s most recent – and wackiest – designs should not be sunk. They happened to be in an excellent position to fire at the German cruisers at will. At around 6:47pm, a salvo of fifteen-inch shells from Glorious plunged into Danzig, which suddenly vanished amidst a terrible explosion. The rear-most dreadnoughts of the German line were compelled to occasionally transfer their fire to the huge light cruisers, successfully forcing their withdrawal. The Hochseeflotte continued its plight as the sun slowly went down, weaving and meandering to avoid the rigid attention of the Grand Fleet. The hopeless Blücher began to trail behind the last pre-dreadnoughts in the German line, bringing it within range of the Grand Fleet’s smaller vessels. Having suffered torment at the hands of British dreadnoughts, she was in no state to resist a determined attack. Destroyers swarmed around the fraught vessel as the Hochseeflotte sailed further away. Ablaze and taking on water, she was an easy target. A succession of torpedo hits finished off the doomed ship, and it slowly sunk beneath the waves – after survivors were picked up, the British vessels rejoined the battle.
On the bridge of Iron Duke, Jellicoe expressed his amazement to Dreyer that the Hochseeflotte was still sailing in good order given the punishment exacted upon it. The damage that his fleet had inflicted was obvious and the decrease in speed was noticeable, but still the German dreadnoughts ploughed on, in line and evidently determined to reach home at any cost. Scheer was equally perplexed at his fleet’s survivability, yet the reports coming from his squadron commanders were far from good. They chronicled in brief a tale of a fleet struggling to survive, its crew diminished and increasingly demoralised by heavy casualties, of constant struggles to control the effects of the steady shelling and the compartmentalisation of flooding. Although no dreadnoughts had yet been sunk, it was apparent that many were on the brink of destruction. Unsure whether his fleet could last until the night, Scheer decided to gamble, and ordered Hipper to lead his battlecruisers against the fore of the Grand Fleet’s battle line to give the dreadnoughts some more time. He hoisted the command to a startled Hipper, who prepared to lead his damaged ships against the brunt of the Anglo-American line. Furthermore, Scheer ordered another torpedo attack, this one to be concentrated against the middle of the line. As the destroyers went forward, Hipper drove his battered ships towards the nearest adversary, the Fifth Battle Squadron, which had resumed its position at the head of Jellicoe’s line. Almost simultaneously, Warspite, Valiant, Malaya and Barham opened fire on the charging battlecruisers. Fifteen-inch shells were sprayed over the ships as they rushed headlong towards the British. Repeated salvoes struck the turrets of Moltke and von der Tann, which shook violently as they were attacked. Flames leapt high on the forward turret of Moltke, but still she fired with the other battlecruisers, responding to the British cannonade in kind. The torpedo attack was executed in a clumsier fashion than those previously, but it was enough to compel Jellicoe to alter course slightly. Meanwhile, the ride of the German battlecruisers had forced the Fifth Battle Squadron to turn suddenly to meet the unexpected challenge. Hipper swung his ships away from the scene of battle and escaped with all haste, two of his ships on the verge of sinking and successfully avoiding the enthusiastic gunfire of Beatty’s battlecruisers, situated to the east. Inflicting a considerable stopping blow, the battlecruisers had landed a number of important hits on Valiant and Malaya. The rest of the Hochseeflotte continued its tortuous journey and Scheer was semi-confident that he had won enough time to survive until night time. The dying light made the fate of Hipper an uncertain one to Scheer, on board the Bayern. He was heartened when he eventually counted five battlecruisers, although it was apparent even from such a distance that they were struggling after their encounter against the Fifth Battle Squadron.
The Grand Fleet fighting at dusk on 7th July
As dusk turned to evening, Jellicoe re-ordered his fleet after the concerted destroyer and battlecruiser attack, which had enabled Scheer to create a safe gap between the Grand Fleet and Hochseeflotte. Jellicoe was frustrated that after a day of attacking the Hochseeflotte, the stubborn vessels of the German Navy had yet to sink, although many were evidently wrecked. The Grand Fleet commander now sought to maintain contact with Scheer as they traversed the Dogger Bank, seeking to preserve most of his ammunition until the following morning. By a miracle, Scheer had suffered the loss of only one major ship – Blücher – an armoured cruiser that was not in the same league as one of his dreadnoughts or battlecruisers. During the day, Scheer had successfully extracted himself from every disadvantageous situation. Yet he knew that his luck would soon run out – he hoped that night would be his saviour.
Scheer had devised an elaborate plan to outrun and outmanoeuvre Jellicoe, intending to pass to his north. Fearful that Jellicoe would block his exit eastwards, Scheer was mindful that the option of escaping via the Skagerrak be kept open. He swiftly turned the Hochseeflotte northwards and ordered an increase of speed. The reversal of the Hochseeflotte’s course momentarily confused Jellicoe, who found it hard to discern Scheer’s intentions given the large smokescreen. A north westerly course appeared completely inexplicable – yet the intentions of the German commander were soon apparent to Jellicoe, who ordered his ships to turn north. On the bridge of Iron Duke, Jellicoe sensed that an opportunity was present to place his fleet astride of Scheer’s new course. Squadron by squadron, the Grand Fleet altered its course, with Jellicoe seeking to make good the time lost to the confusion aroused by Scheer’s peculiar change of direction. Scheer forced his ships beyond their design speeds in the attempt to escape Jellicoe, more necessary than ever given the latter’s northward turn. The Hochseeflotte altered course to the northeast, with Scheer hoping that a final burst would put him beyond the grasp of the Grand Fleet and allow him to escape during the night. A race ensued in which one fleet attempted to outflank the other – despite the exertions of the Hochseeflotte, it was a race that the Grand Fleet won. Jellicoe had read the situation perfectly – he had reformed his vessels in line and was leading them on a convergent course with the Hochseeflotte. Scheer’s audacious gamble to evade the Grand Fleet had failed.
By 4:05pm, the Grand Fleet, now led by Marlborough of the First Battle Squadron, was in a position to cross the Hochseeflotte’s ‘T’. Fire between the two, intermittent whilst they had attempted to outmanoeuvre each other, resumed with ferocity, and once again, it was Scheer who came off worse. Nassau, at the front of the German line, was subjected to intense shell fire. Other German ships underwent a similar ordeal as the dreadnoughts of the Grand Fleet directed their immense firepower on the leading ships in the Hochseeflotte’s line. Scheer reacted rapidly when confronted by this new danger, performing another hasty about turn and then swinging hard to port. The Hochseeflotte swept round in an arc, navigating through the towering columns of water created by the shelling of the Grand Fleet. This placed him on his original south easterly course with the added bonus that Jellicoe was heading in the opposite direction. Having had his head in a noose, Scheer escaped again, losing just one destroyer during the complex action, sunk by the cruiser Cordelia. Furthermore, he was able to open a sizeable gap between the Hochseeflotte and the Grand Fleet. Again, Jellicoe turned the Grand Fleet around in order to keep pace with Scheer. Having had more than half of the Hochseeflotte within firing range until Scheer’s turn southeast, Jellicoe was now obliged to attack from afar. For the next hour and twenty minutes, the Grand Fleet and the Hochseeflotte both travelled on the same course, with intense firing exchanged between Jellicoe’s leading ships and Scheer’s rear vessels. The punishment meted out on the latter aggravated the increasingly lamentable predicament of the Hochseeflotte. The pre-dreadnoughts, Deutschland, Schlesien, Schleswig-Holstein and Hannover, slower than their dreadnought counterparts, struggled to keep pace with the main body of the fleet. Scheer, impatient of having to limit his speed to accommodate the design of the pre-dreadnoughts, considered abandoning them. However, he realised their potential sacrificial utility, and clung onto the expedient of maintaining the fleet as a united body. Blücher, having been mercilessly assailed on several occasions, tagged along independently, with her crew keeping the ship in order with superhuman endeavour. Of the dreadnoughts, Kaiserin, Grosser Kurfürst, Rheinland and Nassau had sustained the most serious damage. The superstructures, decks and turrets of these ships were peppered with shell holes; other vessels in the line were similarly damaged, if not as seriously. The battlecruiser Lützow was impaired by flooding; numerous cruisers and destroyers had suffered adversely in the melee that had ensued over the past six hours. It was increasingly evident that the Hochseeflotte was fit only to flee and not to fight.
Admiral Jellicoe successfully crossed the Hochseeflotte’s ‘T’
After 6:30pm, the ships of the Hochseeflotte were perfectly visible in front of the setting gun, their silhouettes blackened against the horizon. The fleets were heading into the Dogger Bank, and the calculated gunfire of the Grand Fleet continued to reduce the effectiveness of the Hochseeflotte. Under the strain of the unequal contest, the German dreadnoughts often fired erratically and less frequently than their British and American enemies. Cruiser squadrons vied for position between the two battle lines, conducting their own private battles, always wary of the larger ships around them. Two British ‘large light cruisers’, Glorious and Courageous, extravagantly armed with fifteen-inch guns but with perilously thin armour, were kept beyond the range of the German dreadnoughts. A number of hits from German ships had exposed their defensive deficiencies and Jellicoe was careful that Admiral Fisher’s most recent – and wackiest – designs should not be sunk. They happened to be in an excellent position to fire at the German cruisers at will. At around 6:47pm, a salvo of fifteen-inch shells from Glorious plunged into Danzig, which suddenly vanished amidst a terrible explosion. The rear-most dreadnoughts of the German line were compelled to occasionally transfer their fire to the huge light cruisers, successfully forcing their withdrawal. The Hochseeflotte continued its plight as the sun slowly went down, weaving and meandering to avoid the rigid attention of the Grand Fleet. The hopeless Blücher began to trail behind the last pre-dreadnoughts in the German line, bringing it within range of the Grand Fleet’s smaller vessels. Having suffered torment at the hands of British dreadnoughts, she was in no state to resist a determined attack. Destroyers swarmed around the fraught vessel as the Hochseeflotte sailed further away. Ablaze and taking on water, she was an easy target. A succession of torpedo hits finished off the doomed ship, and it slowly sunk beneath the waves – after survivors were picked up, the British vessels rejoined the battle.
On the bridge of Iron Duke, Jellicoe expressed his amazement to Dreyer that the Hochseeflotte was still sailing in good order given the punishment exacted upon it. The damage that his fleet had inflicted was obvious and the decrease in speed was noticeable, but still the German dreadnoughts ploughed on, in line and evidently determined to reach home at any cost. Scheer was equally perplexed at his fleet’s survivability, yet the reports coming from his squadron commanders were far from good. They chronicled in brief a tale of a fleet struggling to survive, its crew diminished and increasingly demoralised by heavy casualties, of constant struggles to control the effects of the steady shelling and the compartmentalisation of flooding. Although no dreadnoughts had yet been sunk, it was apparent that many were on the brink of destruction. Unsure whether his fleet could last until the night, Scheer decided to gamble, and ordered Hipper to lead his battlecruisers against the fore of the Grand Fleet’s battle line to give the dreadnoughts some more time. He hoisted the command to a startled Hipper, who prepared to lead his damaged ships against the brunt of the Anglo-American line. Furthermore, Scheer ordered another torpedo attack, this one to be concentrated against the middle of the line. As the destroyers went forward, Hipper drove his battered ships towards the nearest adversary, the Fifth Battle Squadron, which had resumed its position at the head of Jellicoe’s line. Almost simultaneously, Warspite, Valiant, Malaya and Barham opened fire on the charging battlecruisers. Fifteen-inch shells were sprayed over the ships as they rushed headlong towards the British. Repeated salvoes struck the turrets of Moltke and von der Tann, which shook violently as they were attacked. Flames leapt high on the forward turret of Moltke, but still she fired with the other battlecruisers, responding to the British cannonade in kind. The torpedo attack was executed in a clumsier fashion than those previously, but it was enough to compel Jellicoe to alter course slightly. Meanwhile, the ride of the German battlecruisers had forced the Fifth Battle Squadron to turn suddenly to meet the unexpected challenge. Hipper swung his ships away from the scene of battle and escaped with all haste, two of his ships on the verge of sinking and successfully avoiding the enthusiastic gunfire of Beatty’s battlecruisers, situated to the east. Inflicting a considerable stopping blow, the battlecruisers had landed a number of important hits on Valiant and Malaya. The rest of the Hochseeflotte continued its tortuous journey and Scheer was semi-confident that he had won enough time to survive until night time. The dying light made the fate of Hipper an uncertain one to Scheer, on board the Bayern. He was heartened when he eventually counted five battlecruisers, although it was apparent even from such a distance that they were struggling after their encounter against the Fifth Battle Squadron.
The Grand Fleet fighting at dusk on 7th July
As dusk turned to evening, Jellicoe re-ordered his fleet after the concerted destroyer and battlecruiser attack, which had enabled Scheer to create a safe gap between the Grand Fleet and Hochseeflotte. Jellicoe was frustrated that after a day of attacking the Hochseeflotte, the stubborn vessels of the German Navy had yet to sink, although many were evidently wrecked. The Grand Fleet commander now sought to maintain contact with Scheer as they traversed the Dogger Bank, seeking to preserve most of his ammunition until the following morning. By a miracle, Scheer had suffered the loss of only one major ship – Blücher – an armoured cruiser that was not in the same league as one of his dreadnoughts or battlecruisers. During the day, Scheer had successfully extracted himself from every disadvantageous situation. Yet he knew that his luck would soon run out – he hoped that night would be his saviour.
