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Anon. - The Jutland Battle By Two Who Took Part In It

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This edition is published by PICKLE PARTNERS PUBLISHING - photo 1
This edition is published by PICKLE PARTNERS PUBLISHING - photo 2
This edition is published by PICKLE PARTNERS PUBLISHING www.picklepartnerspublishing.com
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Text originally published in 1916 under the same title.
Pickle Partners Publishing 2013, all rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means, electrical, mechanical or otherwise without the written permission of the copyright holder.
Publishers Note
Although in most cases we have retained the Authors original spelling and grammar to authentically reproduce the work of the Author and the original intent of such material, some additional notes and clarifications have been added for the modern readers benefit.
We have also made every effort to include all maps and illustrations of the original edition the limitations of formatting do not allow of including larger maps, we will upload as many of these maps as possible.
THE
JUTLAND BATTLE
BY
TWO WHO TOOK PART IN IT
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Contents
TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE JUTLAND BATTLE
A young officer who was on a British ship in the battle of Jutland gives his views and observations on that naval engagement in the following letters, which are published by permission of the Admiralty. He is the son of a distinguished man well known in America as well as England. Part of his letter to his mother, dated June 3rd, reads:
I have seen a real naval battle, and it was not in the least like what I had expected; and it was rather soul-shaking. I had always drawn a mental picture of the two fleets, in line ahead, pounding away at each other, with us (light cruisers) looking on, seeing all that was happening from van to rear, and everything obvious as a cricket match. I might have known from Heligoland that circumstances alter cases; but somehow I never thought of a general action in a thick mist where you could not see half your own fleet, let alone the enemys. But so it was; and vast forms loomed up out of the mist, firing like Billy-o at other ships that were perfectly invisible.
I saw the Invincible my old Invincible blow up like the Bulwark right alongside us, hardly a mile off; a great crimson rose of flame a hundred feet high and perhaps two hundred broad, that rose leisurely, contemptuously, with an awful majestic dignity, to a good four hundred feet; at its very top an immense baulk of ships plating, and many lesser bits. Then the deep red faded out and there remained only a black pall below, merging in the general pall that the many ships smoke at full speed was creating; and above, a new billowy cloud added to the others in the sky, and only to be distinguished by its greater height. Eighteen minutes later (we had altered course back in that direction during that time) and a gentle shower, like the first of a snowfall, of papeterie, fell or rather came drifting down about us from her. The pall cleared from about her in a few minutes sufficiently to enable one to see her bows sticking up above the water at an angle, her red bottom above her grey side, her stern equally sticking up at an angle, red uppermost. There they stayed till we passed out of range of vision, the British fleet passing by on either side, going into action.
....The enemy signalled his final retirement, the day done, with a really lovely star-shell, which quite warmed my heart towards himI who have always loved fireworks; and after all the furious deep red displays of pyrotechnics we had been treated to for over three hours, this gentle, cool, pure white, silent Star of Bethlehem, was quite like the Spirit of Peace coming to brood over us. That was actually the last we really saw of the enemy, for although some of the others got heavily engaged that night, and sank a first-class Hun, WE, at least, got no more work.
There is no more to tell. No one stopped firing when the Invincible blew up, as they did at the battle of the Nile when LOrient did the same; we moderns have got beyond all these courtesies. Nor did we notice the noise of the explosion, which seems to suggest that there were a good deal of other strange noisesas indeed was the case:
4th June, 1916.
The mail has just left with my letter to mother, but I will continue to yourself, and you will get it a day later. It is Sunday afternoon, and what can I do better than write to My Papa, especially as I am feeling writey and purposely ate a light luncheon lest I might feel sleepy!
Well, I wrote you rather a glum note which I enclosed in C.s letter; but on our return we were under orders to use only postcards I am no good at writing postcards
To resume, it was a glum note, .but remember that I was still under the influence of seeing two British battle cruisers blown up just like a childs squib, and that as far as we then knew, we had played a game with the enemy with ships as chips, and had forfeited six to his none. But since then more news has come to hand; tales of sunken battleships (we lost none, you know) and shattered battle cruisers; eye-witnesses descriptions of sunk light cruisers that I had not even seen; a circumstantial account from our revered leader as to HER torpedoing of one of the enemys finest battleships: and the effect of the blowing up of the Invincible and Queen Mary has worn off considerably. It is rather like what , the schoolmaster said of the children who watched our fireworks and cried from tiredness: They will remember the fireworks and forget the tiredness.
I remember lots of things. I remember a Hun light cruiser lying stopped right in the path of our battle fleet, steam pouring from her funnels, and flames spouting from her decks; shells still bursting on her, and the sunlight playing on her well-kept side. He causeth the sun to shine on the just and on the unjust! She was only able to avoid our battleships by the primitive and not wholly satisfactory method ofsinking! I remember also a sight that will last as long in my memory as that of the sinking Mainz and the death of the Invincible. As those were the essence of shattered matter, so this was the essence of triumphant spirit. A little British destroyer, her midships rent by a great shell meant for a battle cruiser, exuding steam from every pore, able to go ahead but not to steer, coming down diagonally across our line (which was rather congested just there), unable to get out of anybodys way; like to be rammed by any one of a dozen ships; her syren whimpering Let me through! Make way!; her crew fallen in aft, dressed in lifebelts, ready for her final plungeand cheering wildly as it might have been an enthusiastic crowd when the King passes. Perfectly MAGNIFICENT! Thank God I am an Englishman! You will be glad to hear that she is now, after all, safe in port. The Invincible had just blown upthe Queen Mary ten minutes earlier; SHE had just been winged, and that was her replyperfectly spontaneous cheering from her crew.
I remember, too, dashing out from where we had been to strafe the Hun destroyers.Somebody said Sub marine! We looked again, and saw it was a destroyer bottom up. None of ours had been near there.
I remember dashing out again to strafe destroyers, and finding their whole line of battle instead. THAT was exciting; but, too, it was one of lifes cherished moments when we had returned to the fold, and . a thumping great battleship made a signal; Who is firing at you? and we replied: The enemys battle fleet. Rien que a!
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