Prologue VI – Radcliffe’s Gambit
Extract from ‘Great British Sea Battles of the 19th and 20th centuries’, by Arthur Woodcock
Introduction
It is 1915, and though the First World War had seen mammoth advances by the German army on land and great movements of men and resources from the great empires of the Entente, the seas have so far been a quiet frontier.
The few German ships outside the North Sea had led the Entente Powers, mostly the two royal navies of the Dutch and British empires, on a brief but merry chase through the pacific. And yet in far more important theatres, the stupendously expensive and expansive navies did relatively little.
The strategy of the war at sea, for the Entente at least, has always been fairly simple to follow both at the time and thereafter. The British-led campaign would adopt a large and stringent blockade of the Central Powers, and starve the warring nations of resupply by water. Given how many ships the Royal Navy had at its disposal, this had been thought an easy enough task. However, there were a number of issues with the plan.
The first issue was that it was extremely punitive, assessing everything up to and including food produce as war contraband, and declaring the entirety of the North Sea an ‘active’ warzone that vessels entered at their own risk. This immediately cut Germany off from trade with the United States, and many other exporters, but also antagonised these nations, as well as the two Scandinavian countries who found their coastlines suddenly patrolled by British warships.
The second issue was that this was an expensive and complicated procedure, as the Royal Navy found itself obliged to maintain a ‘distant blockade’, barring the entrance to the English Channel, the North Sea, the Adriatic Sea, and (later) the entire Mediterranean. The blockade then, especially outside the Mediterranean (where French vessels could aid the British), was a massive commitment of money, resources and ships.
The third issue was the German navy. Since the 1890s, Kaiser Wilhelm II unwisely committed to a large and furious naval arms race with the British Empire, concluding only in 1905 with the outbreak of hostilities between the Russian Empire, and Britain and Japan. This left both sides with some truly astounding feats of then top of the line warships, and otherwise a large supply of vessels and sailors to man them. The problem for the British was that, in 1915, the Royal Navy not only had to commit many of their ships to the distant blockade on the ‘wrong’ side of the British Isles, and another fleet in the Mediterranean, but also a Pacific and Atlantic Fleet as well, to ensure no outside powers took advantage of the European war. Germany had no such distractions, and their unified fleet could, in theory, contend with the best of the British in any case.
The final issue, which was becoming increasingly pressing, was the Kingdom of the Netherlands. It was, at the beginning of 1915, in an extremely vulnerable position, cut off from the rest of the Entente powers by both the Germany army and navy. The British could not simply hold the blockade and wait, they needed to reinforce and resupply their smaller, vital ally on the German flank. They also needed to save the Dutch fleet trapped in port, uncomfortably and increasingly close to the front lines.
The Royal Netherlands Navy
The Dutch, despite possessing a vast overseas empire of trading and resource extracting colonies, had rather fallen behind in naval terms (and, admittedly, in every other respect) compared to other great powers. With the end of the arms race between Germany and Britain, and both nations distracted by other concerns, the naval budget was increased, with a view to take the ‘lessons learnt' from both sides and create a modest but excellent navy that would best serve the Netherlands at home and abroad. For the Dutch, they only had to worry about three theatres: the North Sea and home waters, the Congo shipping lanes, and the even larger far eastern possessions in South East Asia.
A large fleet was required to protect the latter, given how many other competing naval powers had fleets in the region. For the former two, it was decided both as a matter of practically and economics, that coastal defence squadrons would be sufficient. Any major assault or invasion for these areas would be via land rather than sea. Batavia was also greatly expanded as a gigantic fortress for both land and sea, and housed dozens of huge naval guns and vast amounts of space for ships to take refuge.
In 1914, on the outbreak of the war, the Dutch had completed the vast majority of a proper modern fleet that was posted to the Pacific, and had just completed one of two coastal squadrons. Upon the surprise invasion via the German Reich, therefore, these ships were trapped within their ports:
Within the Ports / in the Pacific Fleet
6 coastal battleships / 5 ‘true’ battleships
4 cruisers / 4 cruisers and 3 light cruisers
10 destroyers / 12 destroyers
23 torpedo boats / 20 torpedo boats
8 submarines
The Pacific Fleet also contained several gunboats which were hastily redeployed to the Congo.
These ships were not nearly enough to contend with the German fleet, however, it was thought, could be enough to tempt them out. Thus, the Entente planned a trap that would unlock the North Sea to safe transport to the Netherlands, destroy the German fleet, and perhaps even allow for naval landings to relieve the occupied zone.
The plan was for the Dutch fleet to sneak out and pass through the Broad Fourteens, and then meet with a British squadron which would escort them to safe moorings along the east coast of England. The Germans would of course give chase, and be caught out not only by the combined fleet, but the far larger British fleet resting off the coast of Scotland, which had detached from their blockade duties.
There were several issues with the plan. The larger fleet could not detach from the blockade until the operation was imminent. The Dutch ships would have to leave port under cover of darkness, and yet be ‘caught’ out on the open water in daylight. The Germans may not take the bait, or take the opportunity to commit some mischief along the Dutch coastline.
However, by late April 1915, with the Dutch army falling against a renewed offensive by the Germans, the Entente had no choice. And so, on the 2nd May 1915, at 4am sharp, the Dutch navy sneaked out of harbour and made for the sea.
Disaster at Broad Fourteens
Unbeknownst to the British or Dutch, the Germans had not been idle in occupied Belgium. Knowing that the Netherlands would soon have to sally forth or die, the Germans had inserted spotters stretching out across the coastline. When the Dutch Navy left port, they were spotted within minutes by these agents, and within 30 minutes, two ‘destroyed’ bases in the occupied zone knew as well. These berths held a dark secret: the vast majority of the German U-Boat service. Thanks to some clever misdirection by both naval officers and military governor Hans Jorgen, the Dutch resistance had no idea these locations had been refurbished and filled by these nautical terrors.
By the time the RNN Fleet had begun their manoeuvres in the Broad Fourteens, 52 submarines were just behind them. At 5.03am, the lead U-Boat opened fire, followed by the others.
The impact was, of course, catastrophic. In the opening wave, several ships, including 2 battleships, were struck by torpedoes. The second wave shortly afterwards was more accurate, hitting over half of all Dutch ships. In a panic, the fleet made orders for full speed ahead, knowing that the fastest submarine of the period could not hope to keep pace with surface vessels. This proved true, however by the time all ships had in fact picked up speed and begun to leave the U-Boat flotilla behind, the Germans had actually emptied their entire ammunition into the Dutch (whilst often touted, this is not quite so impressive as it sounds, as most U-Boats of the period would have held 5 or 6 torpedoes at maximum).
The damage committed in 15 minutes was impressive: 6 destroyers had been damaged, with two of those slowly sinking. 3 cruisers had been damaged, and one already sunk, having been hit a suggested 15 times in the span of 3 minutes. 2 battleships had taken several hits and were taking on water, though the crews were working hard on damage control. Another battleship had been hit seven times, and was struggling to keep pace with the rest of the fleet. The other three were relatively unscathed. The true losses had been amongst the outer layer of torpedo boats, which met the majority of attacks from the U-Boats. Of the 23 that had left port an hour prior, 13 were now paralysed or sinking, and another 2 heavily damaged but moving.
The operation in tatters, the Dutch desperately signalled for help, alerting both the British and the German fleets that something terrible had occurred (it is disputed a great deal by both sides and throughout the years as to how much the main German fleet knew of the events of the disaster before that point).
The commander of the British squadron, Vice-Admiral Lord Radcliffe, had a terrible decision to make. It was clear only that the RNN had been heavily damaged after an attack by U-Boats. They were still many miles from the safety of the British coast, and the main Royal Navy fleet further away still. The German fleet was no doubt on its way, as planned, and yet would catch up to the beleaguered ships well before the RN could arrive in strength to meet them.
Radcliffe made several quick assumptions:
The German U-Boats would be now retreating back to port to restock on ammunition, and may not return at all.
The German fleet would catch up to the Dutch well before the main fleet could arrive, but his own forces could reach them in time if they made best speed towards the Norfolk Banks.
The Germans, upon seeing the weakened Dutch fleet and, comparatively, small British squadron, would engage in full and press their advantage.
They could not, however, defeat them all before the main fleet arrived.
With grim determination, Radcliffe signalled to both the Dutch and British fleets his plan, and made best speed forwards.
Radcliffe’s Gambit
As the sky brightened and visibility became far easier, the Royal Naval Squadron, which had certainly never planned on fighting the entire German navy by itself, sped forth to do exactly that.
At his command, Vice-Admiral Radcliffe possessed:
This was against the German High Seas fleet in full, which as of 1915 comprised:
22 pre-dreadnaughts
17 dreadnaughts
4 battle cruisers
10 light cruisers
60 destroyers
This was, in every way, a suicide mission on behalf of the squadron, and it is doubtful there was not a man aboard who did not know it. It remains remarkable therefore that Radcliffe’s orders were followed promptly, and the men of the Royal Navy held their nerve. It is said, perhaps apocryphally, that the Dutch navy sighted the British relief force at about the time they also spotted the Germans rapidly approaching. The two allied fleets met and hurriedly formed what battle lines they could manage in the few minutes they had before the Germans began testing the range of their weapons.
It was now past 6am, and the sun was rising.
Of the battle by the Norfolk Banks, much has been said and gone over. The German fleet’s great advantage in numbers appears to have, to some degree, hampered its approach, though this was adjusted for. It is also difficult to compare the skill of the seamen involved, given one fleet had already been battered, and was fighting with a great deal of vigour and desperation, whilst the other two were fresh, professional and experienced. Certainly, Radcliffe’s command was to be commended, as he commenced and led the British through a withering battle of slow sacrifice and concession, despite the horrific injuries of both machine and man.
The problem of what would occur when old battleship met new dreadnought was soon answered: the dreadnought would win. However, the durability of the latter ships came at a surprising cost; the megastructure would withstand far more punishment than the crews could survive. This led to a surprising parity in casualties post-battle, though this would not be discovered until after the war.
Whilst tactical skill and artful slow retreating was buying time, and earning the ire and attention in full of the High Fleet, Radcliffe had lost a third of the entire collective force within an hour. The sea was alive with burning oil and screaming men, the air thick with shells and explosions, and everywhere smoke and fumes choked and blinded. It appears this chaos actually aided the British in the end, as it was so complete the Grand Fleet could not only pinpoint exactly where the battle was, but also got within gun range before the Germans noticed their presence.
Faced with the almighty Royal Navy fully aroused and angry, the German fleet commander decided discretion was the best part of valour, and made smoke to fight another day. In the ensuing chase and confusion, various shots by the British managed to bring down several enemy combatants, including a large cruiser which unexpectedly and suddenly exploded, after falling behind her fleeing companions. This explosion marked the end of the engagement, and the two sides disengaged back to their own harbours.
Aftermath
Strictly speaking, both sides had achieved some of their objectives. The Germans had forced the Dutch out of their berths, inflicted a harsh penalty on them and the British fleet, and lived to tell the tale against a large portion of the Royal Navy (albeit somewhat briefly).
On the other hand, the British had secured the Dutch fleet, and that which was not entirely sunk could be repaired and sent out again. For their heroics, Radcliffe’s Squadron had been more than decimated, losing a third of its manpower and dozens of vessels, including most of the cruisers and all but one of the pre-dreadnaught battleships (the Forthright, by sheer ‘good’ fortune, escape by the skin of its teeth, at the expense of a great deal of its crew and one of the Vice-Admiral’s hands).
The immediate aftermath of such events was predictable. The Central Powers were ecstatic, the neutral world was astonished, the Dutch were despondent but vengeful, and the British were all things from the jingoistic fêting of Radcliffe and his men, to extremely angry with Westminster and the Admiralty, to at last comfortable in the continued demonstrated superiority and supremacy of the Royal Navy, even if it could stand to be a bit more prompt.
All of these reactions were, to various degrees, warranted. Radcliffe’s actions most certainly saved the entire Dutch navy from destruction, the Germans had demonstrated their skill and strategic flair for deception and naval warfare, the Dutch lived to fight another day…but at great cost to themselves and their ally.
It was clear to all that the North Sea was far from decided territory and, critically, that the Netherlands would not be getting a rescue anytime soon from the British, not without further risk from a suddenly wary Admiralty. It did however, make Lord Radcliffe’s name, separate to his illustrious family, which would play a not insignificant role in both the war, and what followed.