Castles of Steel (65 page)

British justice has age-old procedures, immune to modification even in times of war. Here, British subjects had died and jury inquests in the bombarded towns attempted to describe the causes of death and identify the perpetrators. “There has been no attack on an English town by an alien enemy for hundreds of years,” the Hartlepool coroner informed his jury. “Therefore I have no precedent for the guidance of the jury.” In Scarborough, the jury foreman asked, “Cannot we use the word ‘murder’?” The coroner replied that if the jury returned a verdict of murder, he “would have to go through the formality of binding the police over to prosecute someone.” The persons responsible, he pointed out, were the officers of the German ships, and, as the jury was bound to recognize, these persons were unavailable. Frustrated, the prosecutors terminated the proceedings.

Through the autumn, Franz Hipper had been eager to take his battle cruisers to sea and had constantly proposed new operational plans. On November 8, only five days after returning from his abortive raid on Yarmouth, the commander of the 1st Scouting Group had suggested a sortie against British merchant trade in the Skagerrak. The British, he argued, would have been forced by his approach to Yarmouth to bring their battle cruisers south to strengthen their east coast defenses; therefore, a raid to the north might catch them off guard. And if he began sinking British merchantmen in northern waters, the Grand Fleet, or part of it, was bound to rush to their aid. Whereupon, as Hipper planned it, the British warships would fall prey to the waiting U-boats he proposed to station off the Firth of Forth, Cromarty, and the entrances to Scapa Flow.

Ingenohl rejected Hipper’s proposal, but the High Seas Fleet commander recognized that something must be done. Since the Battle of the Bight, his fleet had been fretting at the inaction imposed upon it. Morale was deteriorating. The kaiser had given the Commander-in-Chief a command to hold back the fleet in order to preserve control of the Baltic and permit the release of coast defense troops to alleviate the manpower demands of the army. But William had left a loophole: “This does not, however, prevent favorable opportunities being used to damage the enemy. . . . There is nothing to be said against an attempt of the battle cruisers in the North Sea to damage the enemy.” In the language of this memorandum, Ingenohl recognized that the kaiser, eager for victories but abhorring risk, was willing to settle for smaller, even hit-and-run successes. Specifically, he was willing to expose Hipper’s battle cruisers, but not the dreadnought battleships. Accordingly, on November 16, Ingenohl asked permission to send Hipper alone back to England’s east coast, and on the nineteenth William consented. A submarine,
U-27,
was dispatched on the twenty-first to reconnoiter the coastal waters and locate the minefields between Scarborough and Hartlepool. The mission was secret, so much so that none of the crew were aware of its purpose; when the submarine returned, her captain reported that the shore defenses were weak, that the commercial coastal traffic was heavy, and that an area reaching out as far as twelve miles off the Yorkshire coast appeared free of mines. Planning for the operation continued. The Naval Staff insisted that all four of Hipper’s battle cruisers participate and, because
Von der Tann
was in dry dock for boiler repairs, Hipper’s sortie was postponed until mid-December.

The sudden annihilation of Spee’s squadron at the Battle of the Falklands was another spur to the east coast raid. The Falklands defeat had depressed the German fleet and the German people and Ingenohl believed that Hipper’s sortie might provide a tonic. Practically speaking, too, it was clear that British battle cruisers had been stripped from the Grand Fleet and dispatched to the South Atlantic. Ingenohl did not know which British ships had gone, but he was confident that Beatty’s force was now depleted by at least two. (The Germans never learned of the absence of
Princess Royal.
) An opportunity to attack a weakened enemy should not be ignored; Hipper must strike before these ships returned to the North Sea.

The German plan took shape: Hipper would take four battle cruisers and an armored cruiser (the British Admiralty always classified
Blücher
as a battle cruiser; the Germans, more accurately, listed her as a powerful armored cruiser), four light cruisers, and escorting destroyers to the Yorkshire coast. At daylight, his ships would bombard Scarborough and Hartlepool while one of his cruisers laid mines in the coastal shipping lanes. Ingenohl would support Hipper by taking the dreadnought battle fleet to the eastern edge of the Dogger Bank. The kaiser had forbidden Ingenohl to risk a major fleet action, and the admiral had no intention of disobeying; his hope was to lure part of the Grand Fleet over minefields, thereby harming the British without loss to himself. Ingenohl knew he was stretching his orders and he was careful to protect himself in a manner common in Imperial Germany: he did not tell the kaiser what he intended to do.

At 3:00 a.m. on December 15, Hipper’s flagship,
Seydlitz,
sailed from the Jade, followed by
Moltke, Von der Tann,
the newly completed
Derfflinger, Blücher,
four light cruisers, and eighteen destroyers. One of the light cruisers,
Kolberg,
carried a hundred mines. That afternoon, Ingenohl and the main body of the High Seas Fleet followed Hipper into the North Sea. The armada under Ingenohl’s command that day—eighty-five surface warships—was the most powerful German naval force ever to put to sea. And this did not count the twenty-seven ships that had gone ahead with Hipper. Ingenohl’s destination was the eastern edge of the Dogger Bank, where he intended to arrive at daybreak the following morning. This position would not be far enough to the west to provide effective support if Hipper got into early trouble, but it marked the extreme limit of Ingenohl’s courage.

Meanwhile, twelve hours ahead of the battle fleet, Hipper was sweeping at 15 knots across the North Sea. At first, passing Heligoland, the sea was calm and the weather hazy. At noon, a light rain began to fall. Dutch fishing trawlers were sighted and although Hipper worried that some might be acting as British spy ships, he could do nothing. Toward evening, in rising wind and heavy rain squalls, the German ships passed the Dogger Bank. Showing no lights, the destroyer flotillas closed in on the battle cruisers to provide night protection. When Hipper sighted trawlers carrying navigation lights, he altered course, hoping they would not see the big gray shapes sliding past in the darkness. As the night wore on, German radiomen began to pick up British wireless activity and Hipper worried again that one of the fishing trawlers or perhaps a British submarine had given him away. Nevertheless, emboldened by the knowledge that the main battle fleet was behind him, he steamed forward.

At midnight, one of the destroyers in Hipper’s van began calling the light cruiser
Strassburg,
saying, “Have lost touch. Course, please.” In reply,
Strass-burg
growled, “Stop wireless.” Hipper, hearing the exchange, was enraged. “Doesn’t the ship [the destroyer] know where we’re heading? Can’t they get in touch again at daylight? The fools will give us away.” Silenced, the lost destroyer,
S-33,
certain that she could not regain contact, reversed course for home. Along the way, however, she had an adventure. At 4:00 a.m., approaching the Dogger Bank from the west,
S-33
stumbled into four British destroyers. Thinking quickly, the German captain turned his ship onto a parallel course with the British, hoping to convince them in the darkness that he was one of them. Although he was only 200 yards from the nearest ship, the ruse succeeded, and for twenty minutes
S-33
steamed along in company with her enemies before slightly altering course and slipping away. Again breaking radio silence, the lost destroyer signaled Hipper the position of the four destroyers. Hipper was alarmed to learn that a British force was behind him but reasoned that the destroyers could be gobbled up in the morning by the High Seas Fleet.

An equal concern for Hipper was the rising wind and sea.
S-33
had already lost touch and his other destroyers were taking a pounding.
Strassburg,
now nearing the English coast, reported, “Bombardment off shore not possible owing to heavy sea. Lights visible ahead. Coast not distinguishable. Cannot keep course owing to heavy sea. Turning east.” (The facts were worse than
Strassburg
reported. Some destroyers had rolled so heavily that they had lost their masts, their main decks were two feet under water, and their torpedo tubes, which had been unloaded, could not be reloaded.) On
Seydlitz,
Hipper paused to reflect.
Strassburg
’s Captain Retzmann was trustworthy and his reports and judgment were certain to be accurate. Hipper wondered what to do. Give up the whole enterprise just as he approached his goal? Return home again with nothing accomplished? Hold on with the battle cruisers alone? But could he dispense with the protection provided by light cruisers and destroyers if he sent these smaller ships back to the battle fleet?

Standing in
Seydlitz
’s chart room, the admiral turned to consult his first staff officer, Commander Erich Raeder. Before Raeder could answer, however, Hipper made up his mind.

“We’ll put this through. I’m not going to let my command down.”

“But the light forces—?” Raeder began.

“Will be sent back to the main fleet. Only the
Kolberg
will remain with us. She must get rid of her mines.”

At 6:35 a.m., Hipper signaled
Strassburg, Stralsund, Graudenz,
and the seventeen destroyers remaining with him to turn back and join Ingenohl’s main battle fleet.

[Hipper had not imagined that the main fleet no longer would be waiting at the designated rendezvous. Only with this expectation, Hipper said later in his report, had he “decided in favor of sending the [storm-battered] light forces back over a long and unprotected space of almost 100 miles.”]

As the light cruisers and destroyers were turning out of the wind onto an easterly course, Hipper divided the remainder of his force. Rear Admiral Tapkin with
Derfflinger, Von der Tann,
and
Kolberg
headed south for Scarborough; Hipper with
Seydlitz, Moltke,
and
Blücher
turned north, toward Hartlepool. The Southern Group under Tapkin performed its task as assigned. Initially, the battle cruisers were having trouble navigating in the thick mist along the darkened coast. Then, a brightly lighted train running south along the shore provided guidance and led the German ships to within a mile of the Scarborough headland. At 8:06 a.m., they opened fire with their secondary batteries of 5.9-inch guns. Meanwhile,
Kolberg
moved south and at 8:14 a.m. began to lay a minefield off Flamborough Head from the coast to ten miles out. The purpose was to block possible interference with the bombardment by the Humber or Harwich flotillas and, in the longer run, to disrupt British coastal trade. After firing for half an hour,
Derfflinger
and
Von der Tann
turned north for Whitby, where they bombarded the signal station and the town. They met no opposition.

The Northern Group,
Seydlitz, Moltke,
and
Blücher,
had a more difficult experience. At 7:18 a.m., when the German ships first arrived off Hartlepool, Hipper could see the streetlights of the town and the flames of factory furnaces. Hartlepool was known to be a defended port and the young captain of the submarine
U-27
, which had reconnoitered these waters, was on board the flagship, pointing out to Hipper the location of the 6-inch guns on the headland and other features of the town and harbor. Hipper’s group did not achieve complete surprise. At 7:46 a.m., a signal station at the mouth of the Tees suddenly demanded recognition signals. At 7:55 a.m., four British destroyers appeared out of the mist to the northeast. The German ships opened fire with main and secondary batteries and, amid a storm of 11-inch and 5.9-inch shells, all but one of the destroyers retreated to the north. The remaining destroyer “with remarkable coolness, in spite of heavy fire, renewed the attack,” according to the German naval history. It fired a torpedo and then it, too, turned back into the mist. Thereafter, the bombardment of Hartlepool began.
Seydlitz
and
Moltke,
steaming slowly northeast of the town, fired 154 5.9-inch shells and
Moltke
thirty-eight 11-inch shells at the Heugh Battery.
Blücher,
to the south, came to a halt in the middle of the bay and fired her 8.2-inch and 5.9-inch guns at the British gun near the lighthouse. The British batteries replied and a brisk artillery engagement ensued. The Heugh Battery hit
Seydlitz
three times and
Moltke
once. The lighthouse gun fired so accurately at
Blücher
that the German ship moved north out of the gun’s arc of fire. At 8:50 a.m., when Hipper’s ships turned out to sea and disappeared, none of the British guns had been silenced.
Blücher
had suffered four direct hits from 6-inch shells. The bridge and an 8.2-inch turret had been damaged, two 5.9-inch guns were out of action, and nine German seamen had been killed or wounded.

At 9:30 a.m., Hipper rendezvoused with the Scarborough-Whitby force,
Kolberg
rejoined, and Hipper signaled Ingenohl, “Operation competed. Course south south east. 23 knots.” At this moment, turning for home, Hipper was about fifty miles to the rear of the storm-beleaguered light cruisers and destroyers he had dismissed three hours earlier. These small ships, even though they were now running before the sea, were still in trouble. For this reason, the light forces had split up, each flotilla or half-flotilla proceeding on its own. Hipper wondered whether he should attempt to regather them about him, but visibility was so poor that he decided to let them continue ahead of him toward the rendezvous with the High Seas Fleet. Wanting precise information as to the battle fleet’s position, Hipper asked one of his officers, “Where is the main fleet?” He could scarcely believe the reply: “Running into the Jade.” Hipper let out “an old-fashioned Bavarian oath,” said Captain von Waldeyer-Hartz. Ingenohl had deserted Hipper; he was alone. Nor was that all. Some of his damaged light cruisers and destroyers out in front—between his battle cruisers and Germany—appeared to be encountering British warships.