LOSSES AND TACTICS

The British losses as reported officially, and no doubt truthfully, are as follows:

The reported German losses are as follows. The actual losses may be much greater:

When the losses above given are analyzed they are found to be much less favorable to the German side than they appear to be on the surface. To begin with, we may eliminate the three armored cruisers on the British side as of no military value whatever. This reduces the effective tonnage lost on the British side by more than 40,000 tons.

The Queen Mary and the LÜtzow offset each other.

If we accept the German claim that the Pommern, which was lost, was actually the old predreadnought of that name, it is fair to say that she offsets the Invincible. There is, however, very good reason for believing that she was a new and very powerful dreadnought. If this is the case, her loss easily offsets that of both the Invincible and the Indefatigable. Accepting the German statement, however, as we have done at all other points, we may say that so far as effective capital ships are concerned, the British lost one more than the Germans. This, after all, is not a very great difference, and it is to a large extent offset by the loss of four light cruisers which the German admiralty admit. In destroyers the advantage is with the Germans.

With regard to the armored cruisers already referred to, it is interesting to note the fact that these three ships were practically presented to the Germans, thus paralleling the fate of their sister ships, the Cressy, Hogue and Aboukir, which, as will be remembered, were destroyed by a submarine in September, 1914, under conditions of inexplicable carelessness. The military loss represented by all six of these ships was small (disregarding the loss of personnel), but they all selected a fate which was so timed, and in its character so spectacular, as to contribute enormously to the lessening of the prestige with which the British navy had entered upon the war.

As bearing still further upon the comparative losses of the battle, account must be taken of ships seriously injured. Of these, reports from sources apparently unprejudiced insist that the German fleet has a large number and that the number includes several of the most powerful ships that took part in the battle. It is known that the Seydlitz, one of the latest and largest of the German battle cruisers, was so badly damaged that it will be many months before she can take the sea again. There are stories of two other large ships which reached port in such a condition that it was necessary to dock them at once to keep them from sinking. Contrasted with this is the fact that the British ships which reached port were but little injured. This gives an air of probability to the story that the German fire tactics provided for concentrating the fire of several of their ships on some one ship of the enemy's line until she was destroyed. This would explain the otherwise inexplicable fact that, while the Indefatigable and the Queen Mary were being overwhelmed, the ships ahead and astern of them were hardly struck at all.

It may well be that the total damage done the German ships by the steady pounding of the whole line vastly exceeds the total received by the British ships. Something will be known on this subject when it becomes clear that the Germans are, or are not, ready to take the sea again. If their losses and their injuries were as unimportant as they would have the world believe, if their victory was as great as they claim that it was, they should be ready at an early date to challenge the British again, this time with a fleet practically intact as to ships, and with a personnel fired with enthusiastic confidence in its own superiority. If, instead of this, they resume the attitude of evasion which they have maintained so long, the inference will be plain that they have not given the world the truth with regard to what the battle of May 31, 1916, meant to them.

A significant fact in this connection is that, regardless of what others may say on the subject, the officers and men of the British navy are convinced that the victory was with them, and are eager for another chance at the enemy, which they fully believe they would have destroyed if night and fog had not intervened to stay their hand.

The net result of the battle as seen by the world, after careful appraisement of the claims and counterclaims on both sides, is that England retains the full command of the sea, with every prospect of retaining it indefinitely, but that the British navy has, for the moment, lost something of the prestige which it has enjoyed since the days of Nelson and Jervis. There is nothing to support the belief that the control of the North Sea or of any other sea has passed, or by any conceivable combination of circumstances can pass, into the hands of Germany during the present war, or as a result of the war.

All accounts of the battle by those who participated in it represent the weather as capricious. The afternoon came in with a smooth sea, a light wind, and a clear, though somewhat hazy, atmosphere. The smoke of the German ships was made out at a distance which must have been close to twenty miles, and the range-finding as Beatty and Von Hipper closed must have been almost perfect, as is proved by the promptness with which the Germans began making hits on the Queen Mary and the Indefatigable. But this did not continue long. Little wisps of fog began to gather here and there, drifting about, rising from time to time and then settling down and gathering in clouds that at times cut off the view even close at hand.

As the sun dropped toward the horizon it lighted up the western sky with a glow against which the British ships were clearly outlined, forming a perfect target, while the dark-colored German ships to the eastward were projected against a background of fog as gray as themselves. It is interesting to recall the fact that these are exactly the conditions which existed when the British and German squadrons in the Pacific met off Coronel. In that case, as in the present one, the British fleet was to the westward, clearly silhouetted against the twilight sky. And the fate of the Indefatigable and the Queen Mary was not more sudden or more tragic than that of the Good Hope and the Monmouth. It may be that the unfavorable conditions were a matter of luck in both cases. But it may be also that the Germans chose the time of day for fighting in each case to accord with the position which they expected to occupy.

The British complain much of their bad luck, but there are well-recognized advantages of position with regard to light and wind and sea, and the Germans seem to have the luck, if luck it be, to find these advantages habitually on their side.

The British call it luck that both in the battle off Horn Reef and that off Dogger Bank the Germans escaped destruction through the coming on of night. But how would this claim look if it were shown that the Germans timed their movements with direct regard for this—allowing themselves time for a decided thrust, to be followed by withdrawal under cover of night before they could be brought to a final reckoning? A careful study of the operations of the present war shows, on both sea and land, a painstaking attention on the German side to every detail, however small; and instances are not rare in which they have benefited from this in ways which could hardly have been anticipated.

TACTICS

There has been much discussion of the tactics of the battle. And critics, not in foreign countries alone, but in England, have pointed out errors of Beatty and Jellicoe, while many more have come to their defense and shown conclusively that everything done was wisely done, and that the escape of the German fleet and the losses by the British fleet were due not to bad management but to bad luck.

The first point selected for criticism by those who venture to criticize is the initial separation of Beatty's force from Jellicoe's by from sixty to seventy miles. This certainly proved unfortunate, and if it was deliberately planned it is undoubtedly open to criticism. A reference, however, to the letter which Mr. Balfour addressed to the mayors of Yarmouth and Lowestoft on May 8, 1916, suggests an explanation which makes the separation of the two forces seem a reasonable one. Mr. Balfour states, for the reassurance of the mayors and their people, that a policy is to be adopted of keeping a force of fast and powerful ships in certain ports near the English Channel, where they will be ready to sally forth at short notice to run down any force which may venture to cross the North Sea, whether for raiding or for any other purpose. This foreshadows the assignment of a force of battle cruisers to the south of England, and it is altogether probable that Beatty, instead of having been detached by Jellicoe for operations to the southward, had, in fact, gone out directly from the mouth of the Thames to sweep northward toward a junction with the main fleet. This view of the matter is confirmed by the opening sentence of Beatty's official report to Jellicoe:

"I have the honor to report that at 2.37 p. m. on 31st May, 1916, I was cruising and steering to the northward to join your flag."

Another point which has been criticized is the action of Beatty in turning south instead of north when he first found himself in touch with Von Hipper.

It is not clear from the evidence at hand whether he followed Von Hipper in this move or whether Von Hipper followed him. If Von Hipper headed south, Beatty could not well refuse to follow him. Beatty was there to fight if there was a chance to fight, and there is no question that in heading south, whether he was following Von Hipper's lead or taking the lead himself, he took the one course which made the existing chance a certainty.

From this point of view he was right. From another point of view he was wrong, for he was running at full speed directly away from his own supports and directly toward those of his opponent. He thought, and Jellicoe appears to have thought, that the Germans did not wish to fight. But when Beatty finally turned north, both Von Hipper and Von Scheer followed readily enough, although they must have known pretty accurately what lay ahead of them. Beatty's error, then, if error it was, seems to have been not so much in judging the tactical situation as in judging the spirit of his opponent.

Very severe criticism has been directed against Beatty for fighting at comparatively short ranges—9,000 to 14,000 yards—when he had a sufficient excess of speed to choose his distance. This is hardly a fair criticism of the early stages of the battle, as he was then opposed to ships of the same type as his own, so that if he was accepting a disadvantage for himself, he was forcing the same disadvantage upon his opponent. And after all, 14,000 yards is not a short range, though it is certainly much shorter to-day than it would have been ten years ago.

When, in the later stages of the battle, he was opposed to dreadnoughts, it would perhaps have been wiser to maintain a range of from 18,000 to 20,000 yards, but the situation was complicated by the necessity of holding the enemy and leading him to the northward, and it is not possible to say with any confidence that he could have done this if he had held off at a distance as great as prudence might have suggested. Circumstances placed him in a position where it seemed to him desirable to forget the distinction between his ships and battleships, and this is exactly what he did.

Broadly speaking, it must be said that Beatty's course throughout the day was, to quote the favorite expression of British writers on naval matters, "in keeping with the best traditions of the service." And while it was bold and dashing, it was entirely free from the rashness which the British public has been a little inclined to attribute to him since the Dogger Bank engagement.

The only further criticism of the conduct of the battle is that which insists that the German fleet should not have been allowed to escape. And here it is difficult to find an explanation which is at the same time an excuse. Of the situation at 9 p. m. Admiral Jellicoe writes that he had maneuvered into a very advantageous position, in which his fleet was interposed between the German fleet and the German base. He then goes on to say that the threat of destroyer attack during the rapidly approaching darkness made it necessary to dispose the fleet with a view to its safety, while providing for a renewal of the action at daylight. Accordingly, he "maneuvered so as to remain between the Germans and their base, placing flotillas of destroyers where they could protect the fleet and attack the heavy German ships."

Admiral Beatty reported that he did not consider it desirable or proper to engage the German battle fleet during the dark hours, as the strategical position made it appear certain he could locate them at daylight under most favorable circumstances.

Here, then, is the situation between nine and ten o'clock at night, when the approach of darkness made it seem desirable to call a halt for the night—a huge fleet, of more than thirty capital ships, was interposed between the Germans and their base. The general position of the Germans was known, and destroyers, of which the British had at least seventy-five available, were so disposed as to keep in touch with the Germans and attack them during the night. The German fleet was slower than the British fleet by several knots, and if the statements by Jellicoe and Beatty of the damage done are even approximately true, Von Hipper and Von Scheer must have been embarrassed by the necessity of caring for a large number of badly crippled ships. The night is short in that high latitude—not over five hours at the maximum.

And this is the report of what happened at daylight:

"At daylight on the first of June the battle fleet, being southward of Horn Reef, turned northward in search of the enemy vessels, and for the purpose of collecting our own cruisers and torpedo-boat destroyers. The visibility early on the first of June was three to four miles less than on May 31, and the torpedo-boat destroyers, being out of visual touch, did not rejoin the fleet until 9 a. m. The British fleet remained in the proximity of the battle field and near the line of approach to German ports until 11 a. m., in spite of the disadvantages of long distances from fleet bases and the danger incurred in waters adjacent to the enemy's coasts from submarines and torpedo craft.

"The enemy, however, made no sign, and I was reluctantly compelled to the conclusion that the High Sea Fleet had returned into port. Subsequent events proved this assumption to have been correct. Our position must have been known to the enemy, as, at 4 a. m., the fleet engaged a Zeppelin about five minutes, during which time she had ample opportunity to note and subsequently report the position and course of the British fleet."

Here is the mystery of the Battle of Horn Reef, and here we may place our finger on the point at which the explanation lies (if we could only make out what the explanation is) of the reason why this battle cannot take rank, either in its conduct or in its results, with the greatest naval battles of history—with Trafalgar and the Nile, to speak only of English history. It is an unfinished battle; inconclusive, indecisive. And in this respect it cannot be changed by later news of greater losses than are now known. When Jellicoe, with a force materially superior to that commanded by Von Scheer and with higher speed, had interposed between the latter and his base, it would seem that there should have been no escape for the German fleet from absolute destruction. It should have been "played" during the night, and either held or driven northward. How it could work around the flank of the British fleet and be out of sight at dawn is impossible of comprehension even when we have made due allowance for low visibility. And its disappearance was complete. The only German force that was seen was a lone Zeppelin, which was engaged for five minutes. The mystery is increased by Jellicoe's statement that at daylight he "turned northward in search of the enemy's vessels."

His story ends with something in the nature of a reproach for the Germans because they did not return, although "our position must have been known to them."

Let us consider what the situation actually was at daylight. The German fleet, as a whole, had a maximum speed of perhaps 18 knots when fresh from port, and with every ship in perfect condition. According to the English account it had suffered very severely, many of its units being badly crippled. It is inconceivable that it was in a condition when Jellicoe lost touch with it at ten o'clock at night to make anything like its maximum speed without deserting these cripples. Let us suppose, however, that it could and did make 18 knots in some direction between 10 p. m. and 4 a. m. It would run in that time 108 miles. If, therefore, we draw a circle around the point at which it was known to have been at ten o'clock, with 108 miles as a radius, we shall have a circle beyond which it cannot have passed at 4 a. m. (Plate IX).

If we assume a lower limit for its speed, say 12 knots, we may draw another circle with 72 miles as a radius, and say that in all probability the fleet has passed beyond this circle, in some direction, by 4 a. m. We have now narrowed the space within which the German fleet may be at 4 a. m. of June 1, 1916, to the narrow area between our two circles.

But we know that the fleet, if it is in reality badly crippled, will be under the necessity of making its way back to a base at once, and that the detour which it makes to avoid the British fleet will accordingly be as slight as possible. It certainly will not attempt to reach Helgoland by running north or east. It will doubtless start off toward the west or southwest and swing around to the south and southeast as soon as Von Scheer feels confident of having cleared the western flank of the British fleet. We may then draw two bounding lines from the point which the Germans are known to have occupied at ten o'clock, and feel reasonably sure that four o'clock will find them between these lines. In other words, Jellicoe knew with almost mathematical certainty that at four o'clock on the morning of June 1, 1916, the German fleet was within the area A, B, C, D, Plate IX. His own more powerful fleet was at E and F, still between the Germans and their base, with an excess of speed of at least three knots, and probably much more than this. He searched to the north, and not finding them there, "was reluctantly compelled to the conclusion that the High Sea Fleet had returned into port." He accordingly returned to port himself.

THE GERMAN TACTICS

If it is true that the British blundered in allowing the Germans to escape from a trap from which escape should have been impossible, it is equally true that the Germans blundered in allowing themselves to be caught in such a trap. In the early part of the battle the German tactics were all that they should have been. In turning south, when Beatty's force was sighted, Von Hipper was right from every point of view, for he was closing with Von Scheer while drawing Beatty away from Jellicoe. He was equally sound a little later when he turned north, for he did not turn until he had been joined by Von Scheer. He was still sound when at six o'clock he turned east, refusing to be capped, for there was as yet no threat of any important increase in the force to which he was opposed. His mistake—or that of his superior, Von Scheer—came when the British battleships were sighted to the northeastward, heading down across his course. He knew, or should have known, that he was now opposed by a force overwhelmingly superior to his own and with considerably higher speed; and yet he not only did not attempt to withdraw, but held his course and allowed himself to be capped, thus deliberately accepting battle with a greatly superior force and with conditions the most unfavorable that could have been devised. That he suffered much at this point, as he undoubtedly did, was the result of his own bad tactics. That he suffered less than he deserved was the result of the equally bad tactics on the part of his opponent.

As soon as the British battleships were seen approaching the German fleet should have turned south and proceeded at full speed (Plate X), not necessarily with intent to refuse battle permanently, but with intent to refuse it until conditions could be made more favorable than they were at this time. There would have been no difficulty about reproducing on a larger scale the parallel fight which had marked the earlier phases of the battle; and with night coming on and the weather thickening, this would have reduced the British advantage to a minimum. This plan would, moreover, have led the British straight toward the mine and submarine area of the Helgoland Bight; or, if they refused to be so led, would have made it necessary for them to abandon the fight.

It is true, of course, that they did abandon the fight in spite of the great advantage which the German tactics gave them, but it is equally true that the German admiral had no reason to hope for anything so amazingly fortunate for his reputation as a tactician.[Back to Contents]